#i just got the first book from the library and im so impressed with how accurate they made the show based on the book so far

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

Oh my mother was saying she started watching slow horses with her flatmate and I know she doesn’t like violence because she finds it scary so I asked her like, so is it not very violent then and she said not really. But your gifs are making me reconsider… do you know what other whump it contains btw? I like spy stuff so might watch it anyway but I wanna be excited for whump -S

okay so! i wouldnt say its super violent yeah, but there are a few good moments that ticked my boxes perfectly. i think season 3 was the most violent so far, in general the violence that happens is like explosions, characters getting shot, some fights and chases and some characters die in not the tamest ways, but distributed across the seasons so it's not like constant but still in a way that this one guy is put through the wringer in more than one episode per season.

theres a list here (no story spoilers, just when the hurt happens lol)

[magikdarkholme]

Hello Can I request something cute with a little fluff for Cyclops (Scott summers) he's my favorite maybe with the reader being shy -thank you

— Anytime, Always.

pairing - Scott Summers x gf!reader

summary — partly based on a few wallows songs!!

warnings: pining and yearning,

notes — thankyou for the ask!! ive suddenly got a spark for writing again so here we go!! hope this is okay for you hun :) also you didn;t specify if it was fem or gn, so i went with fem reader as that is what im used to!!

masterlist

I hope you whisper close when you lean in, lean in so please give me some kind of reason, reason

You had always admired Scott Summers. He was an amazing leader. A leader of a team that had a tough time taking orders- Logan. An amazing teacher to all of the Students. He was everything you wanted and more. But you had never plucked up the courage to say anything to him.

The two of you had always been close, but you felt like he saw you as a sister. Which crushed you. Storm had told you a few times that you should say something. What could go wrong? She would always say, rubbing your back softly. But she didn't understand, if he didn't feel the same way, your friendship would never be the same.

The hallway outside the Danger Room was dim, lit only by the low hum of flickering overhead lights. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, cooling off after training. Your pulse hadn’t settled—not from the session, but from him. You could still feel the heat of Scott’s palm when he’d helped you up earlier, his touch lingering long after it was gone.

Now he stood beside you, close enough that your sleeves brushed every time one of you shifted. He said nothing at first, just let out a slow breath that fogged the air between you.

“You did good today,” he said, voice low, like it was meant for you alone. “Quick on your feet.”

You glanced at him, trying not to let your smile give you away. “Thanks. You didn’t hold back.”

“I don’t when it matters.”

You wondered if he meant it—to test you, or maybe to impress you. You could never quite tell. Around others, Scott was composed, controlled, careful. With you, he sometimes let that slip. Just a little. Enough to make you hope. Enough to make it hard to breathe.

He shifted his stance, shoulders brushing yours, but still didn’t step away. “You always get this quiet after training?”

“Only when I can’t figure something out,” you said honestly.

“Like what?”

You hesitated. The words were there, pressed behind your teeth like something fragile, dangerous. You could’ve told him—how your chest tightened every time he looked at you like you mattered, how badly you wanted to reach out and hold onto something more than friendship. But instead, you shrugged.

“Just… stuff.” You spoke shyly.

He didn’t press, but he didn’t move either. The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It buzzed. If he leaned just a little closer, you might’ve reached for him. If you’d said one thing more, he might’ve understood. But neither of you crossed that line.

When he finally stepped away, it was with a small, unreadable smile. “See you tomorrow?”

You nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

And just like that, the moment passed—but it lingered, heavy with everything you didn’t say.

Can't think of the last time that i truly smiled, Till you looked up at me, could you stay a while?

The library was empty, as it usually was this time of evening. Golden light spilled in through the tall windows, dust floating like snow in the quiet. You sat tucked in your usual corner with a book you weren’t really reading, knees drawn up, trying to disappear into stillness.

You didn’t expect him to find you here. But you knew his footsteps anywhere.

Scott stopped just inside the room, visor catching a glint of light. For a second, he didn’t say anything. Just stood there, watching you like you were the first thing that had made sense in a long time.

He didn’t smile often. Not really. Not unless it was for the team, for Charles, or when pretending to be fine. But this wasn’t that kind of smile. This one was small, quiet—real. It appeared the second you looked up and met his gaze.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked.

You shook your head and moved your legs so he could take the chair near you. Not too close. Just enough.

Scott didn’t talk right away. He rested his elbows on his knees, looking around the room like he needed a reason to be there that wasn’t you. But he kept glancing your way, like just being near you gave him something he hadn’t had in a while.

After a moment, he said, so softly you almost didn’t catch it, “I don’t even remember the last time I smiled like that.”

You blinked, startled. “Like what?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back in the chair, letting the quiet settle again. “I’ve just been... kind of stuck lately. Everything feels like a mission. Like a job I can’t turn off. But when you looked up at me just now... I don’t know. It felt different.”

Your heart stuttered. You looked down quickly, not sure what to say, hoping your face didn’t give anything away.

Then he asked, “Could you stay a while?”

The question landed between you like a thread—soft, gentle, almost nothing. But you felt it. A pull. A shift.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. And so you stayed, two people sitting in silence, not needing words. Not yet.

Just that shared stillness. Just that almost-smile.

It's just something about you. All the things that you do, Make me see the end through

The rain had started just after training, soft and steady against the windows of the common room. You sat by the window, curled into the corner of the couch, a mug of tea cradled between your hands, trying to hide how your heart still hadn’t slowed since he'd smiled at you during that last sparring match.

Scott was standing nearby, pacing slightly, arms crossed. He was quieter than usual, like something was sitting on his chest that he didn’t quite know how to shake loose.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

You glanced up at him, instantly nervous, though you weren’t sure why. “About what?”

He stopped pacing and turned toward you, his voice lower now. “You.”

Your breath caught, fingers tightening slightly around your mug. “Me?”

Scott ran a hand through his hair, almost frustrated, like he didn’t know how to explain it. “It’s just… something about you. I don’t even know when it started. Maybe it was always there. The way you listen. The way you see people, even when they’re trying not to be seen. I think I’ve been trying to hold it all in because I didn’t want to mess up what we have.”

You stared at him, heart pounding, throat dry.

He stepped closer now, carefully, like he didn’t want to spook you. His voice softened.

“All the things that you do… they’ve kept me going. Even when things felt like they were falling apart. You make me want to see it through. Whatever’s next. Whatever’s waiting.”

You set your mug down with trembling hands and stood, unsure if this was really happening. “Scott…”

He reached for your hand — gentle, but sure — and held it like he’d been waiting to do it forever.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “But if you feel it too… just stay. Right here. With me.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. You just stepped forward, into his arms, into that space that had always been there between you but had never been filled — until now.

And when he leaned down and kissed you, it wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was steady. Certain.

Like something that had been written long before either of you were ready to admit it.

[hardtobethebardbitch]

I want all your thoughts about Maya and the Three as well as The Book of Life (remember I'm Mexican bitch so I reserve EVERYTHING LATINA RIGHT to judge your answer >:3)

*claps hands together* HERE WE GO TIME TO YAP ABOUT THE BEST MOVIE EVER.

I literally grew up watching this movie. My earliest memory is showing it to my best friend at a sleepover when I was like 6.

My entire WORLD as a kid was Book of Life. Got my first phone, what was the first thing in my music library? Book of Life. Every birthday and when I was sick, what would I pick? Book of Life. Hell, I wrote a self-insert as Manolo's older sister who was best friends with Maria and in love with Joaquin(before I figured I was gay, but like...Joaquin)

I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE IT WAS A JUKEBOX MUSICAL

Once I found one of my favorite cover artist Annapantsu's rendition of Can't Help Falling In Love With You, and I thought, "yes, she's seen Book of Life!" Ectasy of Gold? Saw those beer commercials and thought, "Hold up-" I heard Radiohead for the first time and I went, "Wait this was in Book of Life!"

But my God, I as a white person of European descent, adore Dia De Lose Muertos. It is my favorite holiday right after Halloween, because it's my excuse to watch Book Of Life on repeat. I know it entirely by heart, and-although I've now forgotten-I used to scare my sister because I could sing I Love You Too Much and The Apology Song in Spanish, without knowing a lick of the language otherwise. I HAVE A COPY OF A NOVELIZED VERSION OF THE MOVIE, ITS IN SPANISH, AND I UNDERSTAND EVERY WORD.

Okay okay, now onto the actual movie other than my experiences.

This thing is one of the best pieces of media I've consumed in literally forever. While it has certain flaws-pfft what am I saying, IT HAS LITERALLY LIKE ONE MINISCULE FLAW, AND I CANT EVEN PIN IT DOWN.

Im going to treat this as one of my movie reviews, just so I don't make this an entire essay lol

Plot: DUDE, THE PLOT?? it's just-beautiful. Just imagine it for a second, as if you were part of this as a main character like Manolo. You are in love with your best friend-your other best friend is in love with her too. You continue with your life, still in love even after she leaves for finishing school. When she returns you do your best to impress her, despite the fact you're kind of the village loser. You die, and when you get to the afterlife you find out that your love life has been betted on by literal gods, just cause they're bored?? I am shocked Manolo kept his cool as much as he did. And then the freaking bandits?? The battle?? I just fucking love this movie man.

10/10

Music: JUKEBOX MOVIE ALERT!!! Except one-I think two?-songs, everything is from somewhere else. And my gods, the conversion from whatever they used to be into the style of the movie is ASTOUNDING. I completely believed that Creep was supposed to be played on guitar like that. And then I could go on for literal hours about The Apology Song-and most of it would just be screaming in joy. I DON'T UNDERSTAND, IT'S JUST SO GOOD FOR NO REASON?

100/10

Animation: How the hell do I explain this with words? Just look at it yourself.

LOOK AT IT!!! Care and love was put into every single frame and it SHOWS.

10000/10

Writing: I do have to admit that maybe, occasionally, from time to time, rarely, the writing is a little strange. But then when there's real heavy scenes-okay who am I kidding, the writings amazing. Humor, pacing, and everything in between-they made due with what they got, and they left ZERO CRUMBS. JUST LOOK AT THD GRANDMA

Queen. AND THEN THIS FUCKING SCENE I JUST-

"Don't forget me."

Waiter! You forgot my tissues!

Characters: I...cannot stress enough...how much I love everyone in this movie.

Manolo? Peak. He molded what my type would be. Selfless, strong, but allows you to be independent, a complete pathetic cat to his lover. His conflict can be felt by anyone with disapproving guardians, or even those who just had disappointed figures in their life. And Diego Luna???? Fuck. Perfect character right there.

Maria? Badass. Likes to lead a little on, but what girl hasn't? She's the leader's daughter and has a pet pig. Need I say more? And Zoe Saldana fucking smashed the role.

JOAQUIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

I LOVE Joaquin. When I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and my friends pointed out Channing Tatum I went, "JOAQUIIN" and they stared like I was senile. I do honestly believe that he is extremely underrated within this niche Fandom. Just saying, I had an epiphany a few years ago: How did Joaquin feel?

Maria was believed to be dead. Blinded by grief he tells his best friend that it should have been him. I entirely believe that he was the one to return to the tree. To apologize, of course. And what does he find? His best friend, dead. He doesn't have anyone left. Maria comes back, and he can only imagine the pain she's feeling. He hates that General Posada is only thinking of marriage at a time like this.

And if he hadn't been the one to find Manolo? Then it was Carlos. And Joaquin watched as a man he respected carry his best friend's body out of the fog from the lonely dock. Or perhaps Carlos buried him right under the tree, and returned with nothing but grief.

And he completely accepts Manolo and Maria's love! He definitely felt hurt, but I'm sure it took a minute because he was just happy Manolo was alive man. He'll find love, I'm sure he will. He'll get a medal from me, no doubt.

Im simply saying, Joaquin had the most development of everyone in this movie.

La Muerte and Xibalba? Peak on and off married couple. La Muerte is hot as hell, and Xibalba's hilarious. Candlemaker, peak. Carlos, peak. The Mariachi Brothers, peak. Luis, peak. Carmen, peak. Book, peak. Even the detention kids were so incredible!

100/10

Overall movie: This movie has so many layers, and it can be enjoyed by all ages. I have enjoyed it since I first watched it, and I will adore it until I die. I will have this play at my funeral, and all you sick fucks are invited.

100000000000000000000000000000 x infinity/10.

And MAYA AND THE THREE???? UGH. MADRE DE DIOS I WANT TO CRY THIS THING MADE ME SOB.

I heard my dad call me from the living room. It was during COVID so I was a little under the weather. I go to the living room, and he's showing a new release on Netflix: Maya And The Three.

I CRASHED OUT. I was SCREAMING at him, begging him to give me the remote. I almost cried right then and there.

AND THEN I STARTED WATCHING?!?!?!!! AND IM INSTANTLY HIT WITH...ZOE SAL-FUCKING-DANA.

AND THEN...DRUMROLL...

DIEGO LUNAAAAA

(I'm fine guys I swear.)

Guys...this thing reignited something in me. The absolute fabulousness of the entire show screamed "Gutierrez". While no one was bursting into Radiohead this time, I swear my heart gave out from all the absolute nostalgia I was getting, and the new story that was tugging my heartstrings in a direction they had never gone.

(You can only imagine how I felt with that La Muerte Xibalba and Candlemaker cameo lol)

I adored every character, but I feel like one can guess who my favorite was haha...

Hes so pathetically down bad for Maya and I can't blame him one bit. LOOK AT THAT FACE!!! I wanna squish it.

Man his reincarnations are gonna feel that lovestruckness. (*cough,* MANOLO, *cough*)

This entire thing, even with all the deaths, I just adore.

I FELT THAT SCREAM WHEN ZATZ DIED. I FELT THAT SCREAM FROM MAYA DEEP IN MY CORE.

AND THEN THEY BROUGHT BACK THE MISBEGOTTEN SON OF A LEPROUS DONKEY BUT JUST A LIL DIFFERENT I CLOCKED THAT IMMEDIATELY AND SCREAMED.

And, of course the ever popular

Rico, Chimi, Picchu, Lance, Daggers, Shield, Camazotz, Puma princess, Micte, Queen Teca, Chiapa, Apush-I love every single character in this show.

AND THEN ALL THE THREE SYMBOLISMS JUST ARGGH

I can't go on man, I'm either gonna die of euphoria or pass out I have been writing this for almost an hour now. But it was so worth it, and I hope it was worth your time too.

No retreat, no surrender.

I am so behind on my French.

[ranting-writer]

On Childhood Neglect and Brothers

Dave sat boredly in the meteor's library, watching Rose and Kanaya flip through books.

He himself had been booted from research duty, Rose finding his lack of focus, doodling, and wandering annoying. It wasn't his fault reading all these weird books was boring! He needed something besides little ass letters on a page to occupy his mind.

Little ass letters on his laptop, now... Now that was something special and worthy of his attention.

He opened up his laptop and plopped on his headphones to listen to music while he messed around with random applications. MSPaint, Minesweeper, his old Type-To-Learn program, Limewire (dear God he was impressed his computer wasn't riddled with a robo-plague from that thing), until eventually that was boring too.

He sighed as he pulled up Pesterchum.

No one was available to pester and no one had pestered him. Not even a screech from Karkat demanding he watch another shitty romcom.

As his eyes trailed the list of chumhandles, his eyes paused on an orange username. It wasn't his messages with Dirk, well, not the current Dirk. It was his Dirk.

Bro.

They hadn't used the chat service much since they literally lived together. They could just bother each other in their respective spaces. However, the service had been useful when Bro was out doing his rap ventriloquist thing, or printing Game Bro, or whatever else Bro did. If Dave needed or wanted something, he was able to just send a message and Bro's pda or phone could pick it up.

Hesitantly, Dave clicked on the chat to read old messages.

" --turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 20:27--

TG: yo

TG: you coming home anytime soon

TG: i was sort of praying for left overs of whatever food denniss girlfriend made

TT: Chill.

TT: You'll get your damn meatloaf and beans, lil man.

TG: oh fuck yes

TG: I haven't had meatloaf in fucking ages

TG: why dont you ever make anything like that bro

TG: can you cook or no

TT: I could if I wanted to.

TT: I just don't want to.

TT: Especially not for your ungrateful ass, like shit. I bust my balls to feed you in the first place and you just take food and abandon me to my futon alone. Like a jackass.

TT: I thought I raised you better.

TG: holy shit

TG: ill come eat the leftovers with you when you get home damn

TT: Amazing.

--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified[TT] at 20:39--"

Dave stared at the chat, gnawing on his lip. In hindsight, he wondered how serious Bro had been in calling him ungrateful and a jackass. Bro had insulted him plenty before, usually during a classic rooftop strife, but that was strifing. This was a casual chat about meatloaf. What weirdly struck Dave then was the fact that he genuinely couldn't remember this chat, let alone the fact that Bro's weirdo friend had a girlfriend who could cook.

That wasn't to say he really knew Dennis well enough himself to say whether or not the guy had a girlfriend, but it felt weird that he couldn't remember it.

Whatever.

Random chat about meatloaf and cooking that was super short. Moving on.

"--timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 8:43--

TT: Yo.

TT: I know you're sick this morning, but I need you to do something in the house. Well a couple things, but yeah.

TT:....

TT: Dave.

TT: Daaaaaaave.

TT: Answer me Dave.

TT: If you don't answer me right now, I will die.

TG: jesus fuck dude

TT: Ah good. Death averted and now I can tell you your chores.

TG: dude im sick dont you think making a sick person do chores is a little

TG: oh i dunno

TG: counterproductive

TT: Chill, lil man. I'm not making you clean the toilet or something.

TT: Firstly, I need you to get the swords out of the fridge. I'm bringing home actual groceries today since I got a little extra from my gig last night.

TT: And since I remembered food exists and is definitely something I eat.

TG: uh-huh

TT: Put the swords wherever, so long as they're out of the way and can't cut us. That is if they can, I know they're pretty shitty. Got a couple from the gas station.

TT: Secondly, I need you to go downstairs one level and ask Mrs. Wilkins if she has our mail. Apparently a package got delivered but I didn't see it and it wasn't in the office.

TT: Got all that?

TT:...Dave oh my fucking God.

TT: Did you fall asleep again?

TG: can you shut the fuck up

TG: im doing what you fucking asked

TT: You wanna try that again, you little shit?

TG:.....

TG: im putting the swords in our storage closet and im about to go check for our mail

TG: im sorry

TT: That's better. No strife tonight.

TT: Get your personal stash ready too. I got you the fancy apple juice and those weird yogurt nibs you like.

TG: yogos?

TG: hell yes

TG: thanks bro

TT: Yup.

--timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 9:22--"

Dave stared at the exchange, terror clawing at his gut.

"You wanna try that again, you little shit?".

He remembered every time Bro had a tonal switch up. Normally, Bro was hard to read, but it was safe to assume he was typically content or even happy. Usually, that made the tension in his voice all that more noticeable when he got irritated with someone, usually Dave. Bro being irritated with Dave usually led to a strife, especially if Dave didn't correct the behavior or apologize.

Dave remembered a time when he was probably seven. He was playing with a ball in the living room, barely big enough to actually get his little hands around the hilt of a sword, let alone strong enough to actually properly lift one. He'd accidentally bounced the ball off a wall and through a window to the street below.

Bro had kicked his ass for it, berating him the entire time. Bro had at one point even called him a "useless brat, better off left in the crater he was found in".

Back then, Dave thought it was a weird way to refer to their mother, but with the new context he had, he knew better. Bro had at one point thought about just leaving baby Dave in the crater with the meteor with the dead horse.

Yet, mixed with the fear was nostalgia.

Bro had bought him his favorite juice and favorite snack, and was letting him keep them in his room. He didn't have to hide it later that night. He remembered the excitement he'd had for that, on top of the excitement for the spaghetti Bro made that night too. Bro had even surprised him with Olive Garden bread sticks!

And that's sort of what sucked total ass about remembering Bro and growing up with him. When things were bad, they were really, really bad. Dave would have bruises and scrapes, hiding them away with tapes and shirts too warm for the Texas spring. He'd take butter sandwiches to school with a Hi-C carton and try to ignore it when people mocked his shades, which hid a black eye.

When shit was bad, Dave had to help Bro be a person again. He cleaned the futon, and fixed Bro Chef-Boy-Arde on the stove, feeding Bro the scalding sauce and ravioli with cold centers. He'd pick up Bro from the shower sometimes and dry, dress, and tuck him in because if Dave didn't feed the both of them, Bro would forget to eat.

But when it was good, man was it so, so good.

Bro taught him to skateboard and even bought him a small collection at one point. Bro helped him turn his room into a red room for developing photos, and even kept up buying film for his camera. They'd eat pancakes and eggs for breakfast and go out to a museum just so Dave could see dead things and prattle on about how something was preserved.

Bro brought him weird, but cool gifts. Bro helped get his comic out to the Internet, advertising it himself, just to help and encourage Dave to continue his passions. Even strifing was fun!

The combination of pain and joy was hard for Dave to wrap his head around. Sure, he knew Bro was a shit guardian. He knew that. But when Bro was kind or loving, or affectionate, he put his all into it. He wasn't an "I love you" type of person, but getting Dave a preserved fetus in a jar had to be pretty close to saying that.

It was hard to accept that Bro was a bad, if not an abusive, parent, but Dave knew it in his heart to be true. But try as he might to feel angry about it, he just couldn't. He loved Bro dearly, despite the shit Bro put him through.

Dave sighed heavily, struggling to process through these feelings, when a notification came through. It was Dirk.

Dave hesitated then opened the chat.

--timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 23:56--

"TT: Hypothetically speaking, if you were to wax poetically about how you describe people, how would you describe our friends or myself?

TT: I ask because Karkat has inspired me.

TT: His rants are truly to be admired for their poetic and analogous nature, if nothing else.

TT: But I do wonder if others, specifically you, as you are, in fact, a Strider, have any ability to describe others like that. Maybe with less insults and profanity but... Yeah.

TT:....

TT: Are you okay?

TG: yeah sorry

TG: i got caught up in the sheer surprise of being messaged at this hour

TT: Fair.

TT: Although, is time even real around here?

TG: through sheer will and hate for shit that's not appropriately timed so help me god i will make it so

TT: Ha

TT: Fair enough, Mr. Knight of Time.

TG: anyway

TG: what the hell are you going on about exactly

TT: Sorry.

TT: I was trying to take a nap because I'm tired as shit, but Karkat was screeching up a storm outside my room about something. And I found it amazing how many analogies he could fit into a single tirade, while being borderline poetic about it.

TG: oh yeah he does that

TT: So it got me thinking.

TT: You are prone to long winded analogy yourself.

TT: I was wondering how...

TT: Whimsical I guess?

TT: You could be about it. Waxing poetic as I said prior.

TT:.....

TT: You okay, man?

TT: Okay I'm a little worried I somehow annoyed you.

TG: shit

TG: no you didn't

TG: sorry i fuckin zonked out trying to think

TT: Oh.

TT: Yeah I do that sometimes.

--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 00:23--

TT: Dave?? "

Dave put his things back in his sylladex and quickly left the library. He needed to actually talk to Dirk in person. He needed an actual voice in his ears that wasn't Rose's picking at his psyche. Again.

----------

In his room, Dirk paced uncomfortably. His relationship with Dave wasn't exactly... Extremely tight yet. Even though this Dave wasn't actually his version, the Hollywood superstar director that is, he still admired Dave immensely. He looked at Dave as if the guy had hung the sun and stars. He didn't want to ruin their friendship by being clingy or needy or whatever else has apparently pushed Jake away.

Dirk stopped and looked up as Dave came in. "Oh. You're here."

Dave plopped down on Dirk's bed, groaning into a pillow. He felt like crap and just wanted the universe to stop for a minute. Well, technically he could do something like that. Obviously on a smaller scale, just for himself, but that ran the risk of creating a time loop he wasn't exactly prepared to track right then. He sighed as he felt Dirk's hand on his back.

Dirk murmured, "Wanna talk about it?"

Dave stook his head and sat up. "No," he started. "I mean, yes, but no, but... I dunno, dude. Family is confusing."

Dirk nodded. "Oh I know," he agreed. "But, I don't really have any experience with it. What's got you all antsy and crawling up your own ass?"

Dave shot Dirk a look from behind his shades before replying. "It's just my Bro."

"Just?"

Dave groaned again, rubbing his face in frustration. "I'm struggling to see him as good or bad."

Dirk tilted his head a bit, confused. "Why can't he be both?"

"Because he was a guy who went to extremes, and I'm struggling to figure out where exactly his feelings around me land on his Extreme Bro-motion Scale."

"Elaborate."

Dave sighed and laid down, explaining his prior thoughts and realizations around the chats he'd read. How Bro was fantastic and fun one day, but could be cold and ruthless the next. He described his complicated relationship with food because of the kitchen situation, but also described Bro's struggles with taking care of himself, let alone Dave.

Dirk listened patiently, letting Dave ramble and rant for as long as he needed. When Dave finally finished, Dirk hummed a bit before speaking. "Hmmm, it sounds like he was a complicated person," he said finally. "Abusive and not at all suitable to parenthood, as it were. But also it seems like he did give a shit."

Dave stuck his hands up in the air. "That's what I was thinking!," he exclaimed in frustration. "But how can that be accurate?!"

Dirk sighed and looked at the wall, trying to avoid looking at Dave. "Maybe he just... I dunno, didn't know better? Maybe he thought it was right? Based on how I am as a person, I can easily see how my messed up sense of what's helpful could actually cause a lot of damage in the long term.

"Now, it was possible he was just acting like every other abuser, and was making you think the good moments were worth the bad on purpose... From what I understand though, parent-child abuse can be more emotionally complex."

Dave stared at the ceiling, anxiety tumbling about on his gut like a heavy load of laundry thunking about in the dryer. This certainly felt more complicated than Bro just wanting a punching bag. It felt manipulative and genuine. It felt real and fake. It felt like...

Like...

It... Felt like Dave didn't really know his guardian's mind well at all.

And that was probably the worst part for him. He just didn't know. Sure, here in the meteor, they could pass through the dream bubbles and maybe he'd see Bro and could ask about it, but would it even be his Bro? Would Bro even be honest with him? Or would the guy shut down and snip at him to ready himself for a strife in anger? But maybe he didn't need to know.

Maybe, hopefully rather, Dave could just put his worries and questions aside. If he got answers one day, he'd be happy, but if he didn't....

Okay, he still needed to work on Letting That Shit Go 101.

For now, he sat up and leaned on Dirk. "I'll probably still end up defending him a lot..."

Dirk nodded and rubbed Dave's back. "That's alright," he assured Dave. "I doubt you've properly processed his death, let alone your entire childhood."

Dave sighed heavily and nodded. He definitely still struggled with seeing Bro's impaled corpse.

But maybe, just maybe, with Dirk at his side,he could process things at his pace, and without judgement or weird Freudian accusations. He smiled as Dirk hugged him tightly. Maybe he could actually forget about the reasons for his abuse one day, and leave Bro and his anxieties (mostly) behind.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/23/2024

listen i got my last job through one of youse on here so weirder things have happened: i got fired bc the nonprofit wasn’t doing so hot. let me know if you have a weird data/database or market/tech research job. i promise my worksona is so so so nice and pleasant to work with. remote only, looking more in the $75k range but can be a bit flexible if it’s a cool enough job, i am in the central time zone of the USA and will not need sponsorship anywhere but DO need the cadillac of healthcare and dental plans. portfolio, publication list, and linkedin with my government name available on request!

listening

both of these are from my sister! this is another FULL ALBUM rec (good lord). The Offline’s album La couleur de la mer is a soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t exist, inspired by his long walks in the fog on the French Atlantic coast. a little spacey, a little soul, very sixties/seventies neonoir. i am quite fond of the very first track, Thème de la couleur de la mer.

she’s also sent me a bunch of tiktoks with Perfect (Exceeder) by Mason and Princess Superstar. hell of a goddamn music video for this thing. mid-aughts clubbing music at its finest. stopped me from dissolving into a puddle of emotions on the way to and from the vet today bc it’s too goddamn bouncy to be sad around

reading

im reading a trilogy i want to discuss as a whole whenever the third one comes through as a library hold, and a book by a friend. i do not typically talk about books or fics by friends here bc none of them have ever asked for critique, and i dont want to play favorites or inadvertently miss someone’s work. so here’s a story about porn on Wikimedia, which is the kind of database drama and technical arguments that fascinate me.

given the number of articles from 404 Media i shout about here and elsewhere i really should sign up for their $5/mo subscription tier when i have a steady income again

watching

somehow missed Star Wars Visions 2, their second anthology of weird little shorts. i was not super impressed by the overall storytelling this time around, but it was fun to see them reach out to more global studios and see a wider range of styles. there’s some goddamn incredible stop motion in here.

i particularly enjoyed Journey to the Dark Head, which not only has some interesting fringe Force believers and beliefs but has one of the sickest anime bullshit lightsaber fights in this season. this one is by Studio Mir, most known for the Legend of Korra.

also really liked The Spy Dancer by Studio La Cachette, partly bc it’s incredibly beautiful and i like when Star Wars leans into art nouveau, and partly bc it felt the most like a complete short story. emotional arc and everything! strong beginning middle and end! this IS a really low bar, but a lot of the shorts this season did not have a coherent little story to tell or a strong emotional arc, or fumbled their arc partway through, and were just kind of vibes and animation showcases? nothing necessarily wrong with that, also how i felt about most of the last collection. my expectations are underground for any Star Wars media.

playing

as is tradition i dithered about this section the most. this is more of a What’s Next? planning ramble.

the laptop gets shipped back to my old job today so i will no longer have a working modern computer. i have to dig the switch out and see what’s up. maybe start a whole new run in breath of the wild or whatever the last pokemon game was. i think i also have the sword boyfriend game everyone was up in arms about two years ago? and i think i am somehow part of a switch family plan that lets me have some older games?

this section may look very different in the next ??? amount of time until i get a company laptop again. or finally replace the motherboard on my personal desktop but that sat in my car for several weeks during the heat wave this summer while i did not have an apartment and i am really REALLY afraid to open that box.

oh the free epic game this week is a platformer, a genre i have historically not cared about. godspeed to those of you who do

making

soup bc aldi had alphabet pasta and that jolted me out of myself for long enough i was briefly convinced making alphabet pasta soup would fix me. so i found this recipe while in aldi. despite this not being a very good soup or a very good recipe, i feel a little triumphant bc i now know enough to brown the tomato paste before putting it in the soup. unfortunately i overcooked the pasta. there’s kind of a lot of texture happening here, and i wish i had chopped things finer, but i will probably steal my best friend’s blender tomorrow and blitz some of it down.

it’s edible. im going to eat it all. it will not be going in the rotation

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

reader x xander Hawthorne please 🥺

xander hawthorne x fem!reader

hcs about meeting & dating xander hawthorne

a/n: HI IM BACK! & tysm for the request!! xander is so underrated 👎 thats my bae fr🫶 currently working on other stuff but wanted to do this request bc i immediately had ideas for this!! i still don't completely get how school worked in the books, so if there's any wrong info please bare w me. if this wasn't what you had in mind feel free to send a specific request! again, this is kinda fic like but still calling it hcs.

word count: 7.3k

warnings: long backstory again, mentions of death, sexual themes. (pls lmk if you see anything else that should be labeled as a warning)

you’ve always lived on the middle side class of things. you were, thankfully, never poor, but also never rich enough where you could afford the more luxurious things in life.

your mother owned a small bakery 3 blocks away from your home, while your father worked for an electrician company. both jobs were stable enough to provide for necessities and both your parents enjoyed their occupations.

your parents always told you to never worry about money, but it still made you reluctant to ask them for things you wanted in fear they couldn't afford it. which is why you always tried to fix your problems yourself.

if you ever needed money, you would work for your mother at her bakery in exchange. while it was still your mom giving you the money, it made you feel better that you earned the cash. 

you later found yourself working at the bakery even without needing money. you liked working with your mom, and it was fun to learn how to make different types of sweets. 

at school, you were always a studious person. you worked hard to get a's and never anything below. you wanted to make your parents proud and feel as if their hard work toward the family wasn't for nothing. 

you knew it would be practically impossible for your family to afford your college career without going into debt. so you always looked at scholarships and what they looked for in students, so you tried to make yourself appear well-rounded. 

you joined student council, mathletes (although math wasn't your forte),library club, chess club,art club, film club, yearbook, culinary club, asl club, and a few others over the years. to say your schedule after school was always booked was a major understatement.

although your favorite was always the art club. you never even knew you had an artistic side until you joined. you explored it more with your membership and soon became quite good. 

during your freshman year you took your first art class. you were excited to learn under a professional for the first time. 

after a few lessons, your first major assignment was realism project; draw somebody in your everyday life. 

you were both excited and a bit nervous. you had drawn people before, but never someone you knew, and you wanted to make a great first impression on your teacher. 

you ended up choosing your mother as your muse; your father could never stay still enough to be drawn. it took a lot of long nights when your mother wasn't working to finish your drawing. you could've just taken a photo of her and drawn that, but you pushed for the extra mile of drawing her from real life.

you were satisfied when you finished, and your parents were in awe by your work - telling you over and over how talented you were and your teacher would surely be impressed. still, you were anxious about turning it in the next day in class. 

your assignment was a big hit with your teacher, you got a perfect A+. she commented on your beautiful handiwork, noting that your drew from real life. she also advised how you should consider switching to an advanced class since it was obvious you were already beyond a beginner course. 

you wanted to decline at first, being intimidated by the thought of being in a class with others who were just as good or better than you - but your gut instinct told you it was the right choice to make. 

it proved to be right because by the spring you were already one of the best in your art class. you expanded into all types of art: abstract, realism, expressionism, digital, etc. your favorite and most notable works tended to be the realistic ones of people, place, and objects. art had become a part of your life in the best way. 

you entered a numerous amount of competitions and always come back on top; it got to the paint your shelfs had all been filled to the brim. you parents of course were elated with your success and were never prouder. 

you soon were able to make some money with your art skills as well. you got commissioned for mainly portraits of family and friends, mostly to give as gifts or to have in their household. it made you feel proud someone out there had a piece of your art and that people loved your work enough to want you to paint their family. 

the biggest commission you've ever taken was a 40x30 portrait of an older man. the request was anonymous, so you weren't sure who the man was or if the request was for himself or another person. 

the project took a few weeks due to your work load and having to paint such fine details on a huge canvas. you were happy with the outcome and were astonished to find out the anonymous buyer had given you 10k for your work. it was way over your normal pay grade.

your success didn't end there. in the summer before your sophomore year, you received a fancy envelope in the mail. it was addressed to you and sent from heights country day school. 

at first, you were confused as to why they would send you anything. everyone in texas knew of heights country day, it was one of the best private schools in the state. almost all parents want their kids to be a student there, but the tuition was awfully expensive, so if you weren't rich you were most likely not getting in. 

you didn't wait to tell your parents before your ripped open the envelop in anticipation. you unfolded the letter inside and skimmed over the introductions.

you were shocked to find out you were being awarded a full paid scholarship to attend heights country day school for the rest of highschool. 

your first thought was to assume it was a prank, or a scammer trying to get your info. but you examined the letter further; the seal of the school and the dean signature did look quite authentic. then you noticed the number listed on the bottom of the page. 

you figured you should just call and check for confirmation. you told yourself the worst case scenario would be they laugh at your face and tell you the letter isn't real. 

you definitely did not want to inform your parents until you made the call, that way if it wasn't real, their hopes wouldn't be crushed and they would never even know about it. 

it took an hour of pacing in your room to finally work up the courage to make the call. you kept tour expectations low to avoid disappointment. 

the secretary of the school was quick to pick up after two rings, and you briefly explained the letter you received. you held your breath for a second until she told you to "please hold for a moment." 

when she returned she informed you you were being transferred to the dean's phone. your nerves were through the roof at this point. you wanted to believe it was a good sign the dean wanted to talk to you, but maybe he wanted to tell you himself the letter was unfortunately a phony and they do not give scholarships to art students.

the dean finally picked up the call and you both exchanged greetings. from there he explained how the letter was, in fact, very real.

the school had seen a work of yours and dug deeper into your portfolio and academic career. they were very impressed with your achievement, especially given your age. the board was all unanimous in agreeing to offer you the scholarship because of your artistic talents and would love for you to become a part of their school. 

the rest of the call was a blur to you. when the call ended you stood stunned in your room for a minute. you had to pinch yourself to remind yourself this was real and happening. 

once you snapped out of it, you were jumping up and down in joy. you truly were elated to possibly be a student at one of the top private schools in texas or even the country. 

you wasted no more time informing your parents when they arrived home. they also thought you were just pulling their leg, but after you told them you had confirmation - you swear their jaws hit the floor. 

your parents were just as excited for you. your mother took the liberty of baking all your favorites in celebration, even lemon scones, which were your favorite.

before you knew it, summer was over, and it was time to get back into school. you spent the rest of your break prepping to attend heights - gathering books, supplies, and a uniform (which was mostly paid by the school). 

this was your first time wearing a uniform, and you were a bit delighted to wear it. it was a burgundy blazer with a navy crest embossed, with the school motto in latin, a white dress shirt, and a pleated plaid skirt. 

it screamed, "i go to a really expensive private school."

it was nerve-wracking that you were now going to school with some of the richest and elite children in america. you'd hope it wouldn't be obvious where your social class stood, or if it was, they wouldn't think of you any less for it.

you did your best to stray from stereotypical assumptions, but then again you've never interacted with people of a such higher social class - you really had no idea what to expect. 

nonetheless, you wanted to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, so you held your head up high when the first day came around. 

the school in no way looked like a regular public school, it shared way more similar qualities with college campuses. it was beautifully constructed, and you had a feeling the inside was even more stunning.

your parents dropped you off in front of the twin archways of the school, wishing you a good first day, and they were only a call away if you needed anything. you responded with your goodbyes and now stood on the pavement of heights day.

a part of you was glad your parents left so soon; you loved them to death, but their older modeled car stood out amongst the other deluxe cars parked and driving into school grounds. the last thing you wanted on your first day was to stick out like a sore thumb.

you took a deep breath before you took your strides through the front door.

you were happy to see no one gave you obvious looks and stares when you walked through, like those of a movie. everyone seemed preoccupied with their own things. you were silently thankful for that.

you made your way to the office on your own; luckily it was very near the front entrance with a big sign that said 'office of registrar'. making it very easy for you to find it without having to awkwardly ask another peer.

you walked to a desk of who you assumed was a secretary and gave her your name and stated your business. she instantly recognized your name and made a swift move to hand you your schedule.

the secretary informed you about the school's modular scheduling, which means they operate on a six-day cycle, and classes meet anywhere from three to five times a cycle. you were free to fit in lunch where you saw fit. you honestly didn't quite grasp it, but you figured you'd just learn along the way.

she also let you know another student had been assigned to show you around school. that's how you ended up meeting rebecca laughlin.

rebecca was a shy and a bit nervous girl, but seemed sweet nonetheless. you briefly got to know her as she showed you the different rooms; the archive room, the reflector (basically the cafeteria you realized), gym, the art center etc.

she was in the same grade as you, and had a twin sister named emily also in the school. from the small mention of her sister you sensed it was likely a sore subject. you took over from there talking a bit about yourself and your interests.

rebecca mentioned she was also new this year, having moved to texas just recently with her family but frequently visiting before that. she was able to go on a private tour with her sister over the summer, which is why she knew the place quite well already.

you two chatted a bit more until the tour ended. the last stop was the art center, and you were more than thrilled to go inside and check it out. rebecca was about to enter along with you before she saw her twin sister and people who you assume were her friends , a boy and a girl.

you turned around to glance at them and saw they were waving her over. you could tell rebecca was hesitant to just leave you for them, but you reassured her she provided an excellent tour. she reluctantly went off toward her friends, not before giving you her number and letting you know if you had any questions you could reach her.

you took a peak back at where rebecca and her friends were walking away. they all look straight out of a teen vogue catalog. emily was identical to rebecca, same red hair, eyes, and face. you could tell emily was more confident than rebecca however. there was another girl, dark eyes and even darker brown wavy hair - she was so beautiful it felt unreal. and lastly with them was a boy, he was quite tall, dark-skinned with light honey brown eyes, and a head full of curly hair. he was handsome and easily fit in with the rest of the model-looking girls.

you must've looked a second too long because he turned his head in your direction and you both made eye contact.

you quickly snapped your head away,not waiting for his reaction, and made your way to the arts center. you cursed yourself for being caught looking a bit, and now you were slightly embarrassed.

when you reached the arts center, you were amazed. it was a big building with different rooms, it was decorated as if was a museum, marble floors and pillars, archways, etc. and everything about it was engaging.

you took the time to explore the whole place; you found several different art rooms you assumed were open to students, different supply closest, classrooms for teaching, and even a few soundproof rooms. at some point you ran into a few teachers and got to know them and what they taught. you had a few of them in your schedule, so it was great to know where their classes were.

before you knew it, it was time for your first class and then eventually to your last of the day. for lunch you had opted to eat what you brought from home in the archive because you didn't feel like going through the anxiety of finding somewhere alone to sit in the refectory.

it ended up being ironic because you made a friend in there who was also eating lunch. you were sitting alone at small table when a blonde haired girl with her lunch approached you.

her name was mia, and you both instantly clicked. mia had noticed you eating at the table alone and thought she'd introduce herself since she hadn't since you on campus before. she was also a sophomore, seventeen, and she was part of height country day dance team.

she has almost always eaten in the archive since her freshman year; she enjoyed the quiet and privacy since few students ever ate or hung out there too long - you both had that in common.

after that great first meeting, the two of you became best friends. you would occasionally have a class or two with her depending on the schedule, but you both always made time to see each other throughout the day and eat lunch in the archive room.

she later on introduced you to a few of her other friends, that were now your friends as well. they were all pretty wealthy, but it didn't change the fact they were all genuine and friendly people. the fear of making friends at your new school was gone by the end of your first week.

that's set up the rest of your fantastic first year at heights country day school.

you fit in immediately with the art center and other art peers. you all carried the same passions, and it was very fun to learn from others. of course, you all intimidated to be around people so advanced and mostly rich, but it only pushed you to work even harder.

your teachers were all so great. they were also tough critiques, being professionals and all, but you took any critique you got with stride- making you a better artist.

your non-art-related classes were more difficult and work-loaded than you were use to, but you were quick to catch up with the rest of the class.

a few kids at school were stuck up and pretentious, but mostly the students weren't too far off from normal teenagers. and like high school there were cliques and popular people. you never bothered yourself with any of that, yet you always heard three reoccurring last names - hawthorne, laughlin, and calligaris.

you knew laughlin meant rebecca and emily, and it didn't take you long to figure out the other last names must belong to the other two people she was with during your first day. it made sense to you they were well-known, just their looks alone made you feel like they're superior to you.

you could've asked mia or literally paid attention to gossip around you if you wanted to know the first names of the boy & girl with the laughlins, but it honestly slipped your mind. frankly, you were too occupied with navigating your new school life to really care too much about it.

the most shocking event to happen that year was the dead of emily laughlin.

you weren't close friends with rebecca - you two did have a few chats and texts here and there; she once or twice joined mia and you in the archive. but you still felt horrible her sister died and felt the need to reach out.

you gave her your condolences when you saw her back at school, and let her know you were there for anything. she thanked you, but you could tell she needed space to grieve.

you still felt the need to do something, so you came up with the idea to make her a portrait and gifted it to her wrapped. you didn't see her reaction to it (she opened it when she got home), but she let you know she deeply appreciated it.

after that the rest of your year was quick to come and go. and before you knew it, it was summer again.

your summer stayed uneventful, but fun. you worked almost full-time with your mom in her bakery and spent time with your friends.

one afternoon, you were working the counter and you saw a familiar face walk in - a certain handsome, honey-eyed, curly-haired guy.

you greeted him as you normally did customers and asked for his order. he replied, asking for blueberry scones.

you nodded and went to get the scones from your display. that's when he spoke up again, commenting on how he'd seen you from school.

you were taken aback he’d remembered you but you nodded agreeing and replied you were new sophomore year.

"what happens to be your name, baker girl?"

"y/n. and what happens to be yours, new customer?"

he gave a dramatic offended look, hand over his heart - "you mean your telling me you don't know the name of the most dashing man at heights country day school?"

you shrugged, "i suppose not."

"when then i ought to fix that, the name is xander, milady," bowing down to give a kiss on the dorsal side of your hand.

oh he was charming alright. 

to hide your blushing face you busied yourself with packing his scones into a paper bag and rang him up to the register. 

"very serious question...how do you feel about blueberry scones?"

"they're good, but i think the lemon ones are better." 

you've never seen someone look so taken aback as xander did in that moment. he looked as if he'd just got the news his favorite boy band broke up. 

"are you alright-"

"what do you mean you prefer the lemon ones!"

xander then went into a tagent on blueberry scones stomp the lemon ones any day, and only psychos favored the lemons. you countered his claims, defending your favorite treat. you both were going back and forth until a bell rang throughout the bakery, signaling a customer has entered. 

"i suppose that's my sign to take my leave, but trust this debate is not over."

you rolled your eyes playfully, but you fought back a smile at the implication you two would speak again. 

he handed his black card to pay, and you tried not to look astonished at his casual display of the card. as you were swiping his card, he pulled a scone out of his brown bag and laid it on the counter in front of you. 

"here, it's my treat. this is the start of my fool-proof plan to convince you blueberry scones are far more superior." 

you tried to decline or offer him a refund for that scone, but ever the gentleman, he wouldn't allow it. he was out the door before you could protest anymore. leaving with a, "until we meet again," and a wink. 

you hated yourself for liking his annoying handsome beautiful smirk. 

as he requested, you did eat the scone. you admit blueberry is delicious, but nothing compared to the citrus of your lemon ones. plus, you found a new motivation to keep favoring them. 

that was the first of xander's many visits to the bakery that summer. always the same order, and always leaving one for you to eat. he really was on a mission to change your mind. 

sometimes out of spite you'd slip in a lemon scone into his bag to rile him up when he opened it. it always resulted in xander coming back the next day throwing a dramatic hissy fit. you kinda found it cute. 

you two continued your light banter about scones, but ventured into different topics such as school, hobbies, and exploding robots (his favorite topic). even as you worked behind the counter aiding customers, he was there talking your ear off. not that you minded at all, it was nice to have someone other than your mom to talk to. 

you found out xander was very smart; he builds replicas of star wars droids and was a three-time world champion at building machines. you'd never known someone with such intellect. whenever you brought it up, however, he'd brush it off saying it's a family thing and his brothers are much wiser. 

you briefly got a synopsis of his family, and it was quite intriguing. he had four half-brother; nash, grayson, and jameson - all sharing the same mother, but none of the boys' fathers seemed to be in the picture. all of them were basically raised by their grandfather, tobias hawthorne, who was obsessed with riddles and games. he sounded like an interesting man to say the least. 

you opened up to him a bit about your family and getting a scholarship into the school. which now looked not as impressive talking to a genius yet, xander was amazed at this, asking to see some of your work. 

you were suddenly self-conscious about your art. you thought a rich guy like himself probably had seen hundreds of artworks better than yours and done by people younger than your age. 

so, you lied and said you didn't have any pictures, and that you'll show him another time. you're gonna stall that as much as possible.

you guys later exchanged numbers, now being able to communicate outside your bakery hours during the week.

xander favorite thing was to spam you with pictures of himself eating blueberry scones, and you swore you were gonna block him everytime.

summer went by in a flash, and the school went back into session; you were entering your junior year. 

xander and you continued to hang out all the time, even more than you did with your own friends. he was always the one to find you around school, no matter the schedule you had that day.

he loved to sneak up on you and jump scare you, making your heart leap out your chest everytime. you would hit his arm in retaliation everytime and swore you were gonna unfriend him if he didn’t stop. you never actually did though.

xander made sure to pull you out your comfort zone. he sometimes dragged you (sometimes physically) to the refectory to go and eat with him. occasionally, his friends would join as well. rebecca was easy to talk to since you already knew her, and thea was…. complicated, but she had her good parts once she warmed up to you. 

you then demanded xander eat lunch with you and mia to compensate for eating at the refectory every now and then.

he obliged, but you told him it was better if he didn’t after he got kicked out the archive for talking loudly. he swore the archive keeper had it out for him.

he continued the ritual of giving you a blueberry muffin made by the chefs of his home. sometimes you'd bring your own lemon scone and give it to him, negotiating that you'll eat your scone if he eats his.

he'd always agree, but eat it begrudgingly. you swore he was warming up to the scone.

you two took your hangouts to after school. if you worked, it'd be at the bakery and if not, you'd go to the park and just walk.

you invited him over to your house one day after school, xander excitedly accepted. you were a bit nervous he'd think poorly of your home since you were sure he lived in a glorious mansion.

you introduced him to both of your parents, and they greeted him kindly, but your mom embarrassingly asked if he was your boyfriend.

you were quick to make a joke to cover your pink cheeks, "mom, we'd never work out we have complete different tastes in scones."

xander cut in, "well, you know what they say, opposites do attract."

was he flirting with you, or were you reading into it? and why did you like it.

xander ended up really enjoying your house; he even once said he found it more peaceful than his own. so, you guys now frequently hung out at your house after school to talk, banter, study, and or even help each other with projects.

even though you tried to avoid it, xander ending up seeing your art.

it was unintentional; you were seated at a table in an art space working on a sketch, of whatever came to mind, with your earphones in. you didn't hear xander walk in and call your name.

you noticed his presence when he swiped your drawing book. you quickly took out your earphones and tried to reach for it back, but he'd already seen your drawing. and to make matters worse it was a sketch of him.

you were mortified, but he just looked at it in admiration.

he asked if you made it, and you shyly said you had.

"can't believe you were trying to hide your talent from me. now, as an apology ur going to let me keep this."

you immediately said no, and went to take it out of his hand. but xander was quicker and took the page from the journal and held it above his head, out of reach.

after a lot of jumping to reach it, which was required because he's very tall, you gave up and let him have it. xander was pleased with that, and has carried it everywhere in his wallet since then.

he now always pestered you about your art, wanting to see it or wanting you to make a piece for him. you had to admit, you found it flattering.

to make it fair, you wanted to see him in action working on something. he was delighted to show you his robots, and some of his process making them.

you were amazed at his talent, but he could be careless at times.

for instance, you two were in the lab room and you were watching him working on a new formula to fuel his robots. he turned on bunsen burner and before you knew it, it exploded.

he ended up with a missing eyebrow, and you were laughing hysterically. you still have pictures of him without it much to xander's dismay.

you knew you'd grown a crush on the charismatic guy, but you were too scared to admit it.

you weren't sure if he felt the same way, and a part of you felt silly for even thinking he would.

you confided in mia about it, and she was convinced xander was head over heels for you. but you still weren't quite sure, and you didn't want to damage a really good friendship.

in middle of october, xander's grandfather, tobias hawthorne passed away.

he wasn't at school that day, but you assumed he was out sick or doing something important. it wasn't until you heard the news from peers talking about it did you put it together.

you immediately sent him a text sending your condolences and asked if he needed anything.

you didn't hear from him for the rest of the week, which worried you - but you knew, like rebecca, people tend to want their space when loved ones pass.

it was a friday night, you were studying for an upcoming test in your world history class on monday, when you hear a sound from your window.

you ignored it at first thinking it was a wondering animal or just trees against each other. but then you heard it repeatedly, and you realized it was sounding more like a tap against the glass.

you carefully slid your curtains from the window and took a peak outside. you then came face to face with the boy you hadn't seen all week.

it took you a moment to register it was him, you yelped at the first sight of someone outside. but then he started motioning for you to open the window and then you noticed it was xander hawthorne.

you unlatched the lock on your window and slide it open enough he could fit through. but it didn't stop him from tripping on your window still and falling onto the ground with a 'thud'.

"shh! my parents might've heard that!"

"wow, instead of helping a poor fallen man up, you scold him. what ever happened to warm hospitality?"

you ignored him and held your hand out to help him up. once he was stood up, you waited for him to explain why he was here.

he went on to say he didn't have a specific reason, he just needed to get out of his mansion home. "the first place i thought of to go was here, with you."

you swore your heart leaped when he said that. you were praying to whoever was listening that your face wasn't a tomato. how do you even respond to such a heartfelt statement?

luckily, you didn't need to respond to that because he was quick to follow up his words.

"actually, you seem to be the first person i think about every day. no matter what i'm doing, I'll start to think of what'd you be saying if you were there. anytime i see the sunset, my thought shifts to what it look like if you painted it. hell, i've even found myself eating, yes eating, lemons scones because they bring me reminiscence of you."

xander crept closer as his words flowed out. and you were frozen to your spot. heart pounding louder as he took another step closer to you - leaving less than a foot of space between the two of you.

unsure of how to react you said the first thing that came to mind.

"well, uh, maybe you should think about inflation that usually keeps my mind busy." idiot. why do you open your big mouth.

xander gives you a grin, obviously amused at your nervous rambling like the little jerk he is. he was so close to you, you were embarrassed at the possibility he could he your heart pounding.

he moves his right hand to the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek - eyes never leaving yours. you didn't have the strength to look away or even move, as if he was a vampire who compelled you to stay still.

"i've never known someone to get red so easily as you."

you then realized how much of your face was burning, and then after that statement it heated up even further. stupid nervous system.

"i didn't think your face could get a deeper scarlet than it was a moment ago," he laughs, "it's quite adorable honestly."

oh, god. this guy had your heart fluttering at after calling you adorable.

"i wonder how red you'll get when i kiss you."

you did not have a moment to process what xander utter because at the next second his collided his lips upon yours.

nothing prepared you for how exhilarating kissing him felt. your knees gave out a little, and xander was quick to keep you steady. you weren't even ashamed, stuck in a trance by the kiss. it was as if a scene from a jane austen novel had come to life.

boy, was he a good kisser. it was unfair really, how perfect he could he at anything he wants.

when the two of you pulled away, he was the first to speak up.

"you're about as red as crayon right now."

that was enough to bring you back to reality and shove him.

immediately after that night, the two of you began dating.

at first you thought it was unsaid that the both of you were now dating, but you should've known better than to believe xander hawthorne would take the subtle way.

the following monday you were in the refectory waiting on xander, who'd ask you to meet him there. however, you hadn't seen him yet, so you just sat down at an open table.

suddenly, you hear some sort of a mechanical noises coming from behind you. you turned you heard toward it and nothing could have prepared you to see a life sized R2-D2 robot gliding straight towards you - holding flowers in its utility arm.

what the hell was in your breakfast that morning?

when it made it way in front of you, you were completely stunned. you could feel the gazes of people in the room also witnessing this. the robot look scarily realistic to the ones in the star wars movies, xander really was a genius.

the robot extended another arm to reveal a small envelope. you took it in your own hand, along with the flowers.

WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?

a. yes

b. a

c. kiss me

you rolled your eyes at his antics, maybe genius was an overstatement. then you noticed some scribble at the bottom.

p.s. NUTR NUAORD

at first sight of the words - you thought you were having a stroke, but then you figured out you had to unscrambled it to reveal the words 'TURN AROUND'.

of course, xander was always one for puzzles.

you follow the directions of the note and saw the man himself standing before you with a basket full of both lemon and blueberry scones.

"a tough choice, i know. personally, option c is the most appealing."

you wanted to smack the smugness of out him, but instead you opted to answer with letter c.

dating xander was chaotic to say the least, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

you two were never allowed to go on ordinary dates, xander always made sure they were memorable.

for your first date he took you to an escape room, but reserved the whole thing just for the two of you. xander was obviously a pro at the game, but you were quick to figure things out as well. the two of you got the quickest escape time.

at the end of it, he gifted you gold chained necklace with an 'x' and a golden key. you wore it all the time after.

another time you were taken to a amusement park, also reserved for the two of you. you clung on to xander on the scariest rides, much to his enjoyment. it wasn't until the end you saw how there had been pictures taken of you both while on the rides - your expression being fear on almost all of them while your arm was tight grabbing xander's. of course his face was just his charming giant grin of excitement.

he made sure to keep them all and put it as had lock screen despite how much you told him not to.

xander was now way more lenient about the lemon scone thing, and you can proudly say he even enjoys them now. nonetheless, the tradition at lunch is still on-going.

the most nerve wracking part of your relationship was meeting his family.

you learned just how rich xander and his family are. you knew he came from a lot of money, but you were never informed he was related to a billionaire. you couldn't comprehend how having that much money was possible, but xander, of course, acted nonchalant about the whole thing. rich people.

his brothers were all pleasant to meet. nash was the nicest, similar to his brother, he was a charmer with a country accent. grayson was more closed off, and didn't say a lot, but greeted you nicely. jameson, was a wild card, he was a bit drunk, but everyone collectively chose to remain obvious to it. he was also very flirty with you, but you knew it was mainly to annoy xander.

apparently it worked because the following day jameson was found with green hair.

you were introduced to his aunt and mother. his aunt was also pleasant, keeping greeting formal. his mother was.... interesting... the interaction was small, but based on some remarks and backhanded compliments; she looked down on your lower status. xander was quick to defend you and apologize after.

you later were asked to open the front door with a jumble of keys that all looked the same. you assumed this was suppose to be a test of some sort, but you weren't a mastermind at puzzles games like the other hawthornes.

instead, you found a big rock near the front entrance and smashed it against the door locks until they broke.

the brothers looked all bewildered at your action. xander was the first to burst out laughing, come around you to wrap and arm on your shoulder and kiss your forehead.

"that's my girl. who needs logic when you have big rocks."

xander was your biggest supporter in everything. he loved every piece of art you made, and never let you scrap or throw any of it anyway. anything you ever drew or painted him, he would keep it framed and hung in a section of his room dedicated to your work.

he shows up to every art show you have, bragging to people around how his amazing girlfriend painted the work. you always blush in embarrassment, but it never failed to make you happy.

you showed the same support for his activities as well. you cheered him on at my robotic competitions and you were his assistant in helping with small tasks during his building and experiments.

xander made robots were mainly made for doing simple things in overly complicated ways. he also occasionally gifted you robots for small annoying tasks you would offhandedly mention to him.

for instance, xander was walking you to your next class, carrying your backpack as he always insisted it was his job to do. you joked about how you wished he was always around to carry your stuff so your arms wouldn't be so tired.

a few weeks later he gave you a small robot designed to carrying items such as a backup and books. he even gave it wheels so it could follow you around the school like a puppy.

with xanders extroverted personality, it shouldn't surprised you he is not opposed to any PDA. which thea always gags to in the background if she's there to witness it.

he always has his arm around you, preferably your waist, or interlocks your hands together. he loves to gives you random kisses on the forehead or cheek. xander's favorite thing is to surprise you with a kiss on the lips in public, just so he can see you blush.

your first time with xander was very romantic and he made sure it would be. there were candles all over his bedroom and rose petals scattered on the ground. 

although xander was known for being a bit cocky, he was just as nervous as you that night, wanting to make everything special just for you. 

once he made sure you were comfortable - it was like a switch flipped - his cocky persona was back ten fold. 

let’s just say the next day you couldn’t feel your legs, nor could you hide the multiple purple marks left on you. 

of course, ever the gentlemen he was - he made you breakfast in bed the next morning. 

you were even more shocked to find out that was his first time. why is he miraculously good at everything?  

you hung out a lot more at the hawthorne mansion, xander showed you different passages around it. the house was so huge it felt like you've only ever seen 50% of it.

you grew closer to the other hawthorne brothers, taking part in family game night. you after a game of their version of chutes and ladders, you were quick to turn down some offers to play a game.

you also became good friends with avery grambs, you had first met her at the will reading, xander inviting you for moral support. you related to how out of place her and her sister felt around highly rich people.

the events of the will were shocking, but you were happy to find out she'd be sticking around. her moving into the mansion made it easier to hang out with her. you helped her adjust to heights country day and became close.

you and xander both helped avery with what you could in solving the clues his grandather left behind for avery and the hawthornes. although, you kept quiet about the fact xander knew a lot more than he was telling.

however, xander was reluctant to let you join them on anymore research after almost getting shot at when you went along with avery and jameson.

you’d never seen him so mad at his brother, cursing him up and down for putting you in that situation.

xander was insistent for you to stay behind from then on, but you relented and kept tagging along with the others on their little scavenger hunts. xander realized he couldn’t stop you, so he forbid you from going on any clue hunts without him by your side.

it was cute how protective he was, but a little annoying too.

one day you were walking around the mansion with xander looking for jameson, who had wondered off to who knew where. you came across an unfamiliar office. you had asked xander who it belonged to and he informed you it was his grandfathers, now technically avery's.

the two of you entered the office space, you figured xander was curious if anything had changed since his grandfather's passing or if he had maybe left another clue behind.

you were looking around until you eyes came across something behind his desk - a large portrait of who you assumed was tobias hawthorne. upon further inspection, you came to realize another thing.

you painted this portrait.

"holy shit."

even beyond the grave tobias hawthorne keeps on spurring surprises.

[genshinlover101]

Hey.

Could you maybe do some Relationships HC(including how we might have met) about Ganyu(or any other Female orMale characters really) with a chubby(just little chubby) Male reader? This is my first time ever requesting smthn like this. Hope im not doing this wrong. Auf Wiedersehen!

Them w/ a Chubby S/O

Characters: Ganyu, Lisa, Thoma

Warnings: none

A/n: hi hi! I chose more motherly characters who aren’t stern or anything so I hope this is okay

• Ganyu met you on the way to Wanmin Restaurant. Every now and then she likes to treat herself to Xiangling’s cooking. You being there daily, noticed such a pretty lady was always sitting alone, and you scored yourself a dime.

•Ganyu herself wasn’t the most comfortable with her weight. She was on a strict diet even though she daydreams about the most delicious cuisine from Wanmin. She was afraid she wouldn’t fit in if she overate.

• So when she met you she began liking herself more. Not only did your acceptance of her boost her confidence, but your acceptance of your own body was an inspiration to her.

• If you ever felt insecure she’d give you a little slap on the wrist. You were barely scraping the border from skinny to chubby, and she thought you were adorable just how you are.

Ganyu and you lay in your bed doing your own little things reading separate books. Today was the only day you both got a break, and you both preferred to spend it in a comfortable silence doing something you enjoyed.

Since it had already been two hours you relaxed in abstract ways, particularly Ganyu’s decision to lay on your flat stomach. You felt a little uncomfortable, insecure at the fact that she probably felt a plush feeling over what most considered attractive which was a set of abs.

After all, Ganyu was such a beautiful woman, she probably had many men lined up for her hand in marriage, “Ganyu… you wanna lay somewhere else? It’s probably not comfy on my stomach.” You tried to elude her somewhere else.

“Hm? No, not at all. It’s actually pretty comfortable like a little pillow”

“That’s exactly it though-? Aren’t you icked at the feeling?” You question, at least… you thought most women preferred the rock hard build. But apparently not Ganyu.

“Huh? Of course not why would you say that? If you were bone-thin it would hurt to cuddle you.” She said shyly, she secretly appreciated just how you were.

• Lisa met you when you were checking out a bunch of books about exercise. Lisa looked you up and down and even though you weren’t in the best shape, she thought you were overreacting. You looked perfect in her eyes.

• Lisa being the tormenter she is would crack jokes about you. But she would never cross that line between teasing and bullying. In fact, her teasing was secluded to flirting.

• Lisa isn’t the most proficient cook, but if she noticed you’re at home starving to death she would spring to action. Probably checking out a cookbook from her library to impress you.

• If you felt insecure Lisa would drop all the teasing till you felt okay with yourself again. She might have a heart-to-heart with you about how perfect you are depending on how it’s affecting you

You walked into the library gently. It was your silent safe space where you could relax because everyone’s eyes were glued to a book instead of potentially you. Lisa noticed you immediately though.

“Hey there big guy.” She ran her fingers through your arm to latch on, pressing her body against yours. Looking up at you adoringly, she asked “Whatcha doing here cutie?”

“You know exactly why I’m here Ms. Lisa,” of course she did. But she liked to push your buttons knowing your shy nature.

“Ara~, of course, silly me. You’re here for lil ole me, aren’t you? I’m flattered.” People your age mostly fawned over celebrity figures like Diluc, never you though. So you weren’t used to the special attention Lisa gave you.

She noticed your rose-colored cheeks, before bringing a book out of thin air and tapping your belly with it. “Here ya go. I’m just playing, I know you were looking for this new edition so I put it on hold for you the moment it was returned.” She winked before walking off to resume her duties.

• Thoma first met you on his way to pick up groceries from Inazuma City. When you reached for a can of chicken broth so did Thoma, and your hands interlocked. You both were shocked nonetheless but it was a fateful encounter.

• Thoma being the male wife, would cook you anything and everything. It doesn’t help that he was a killer cook too, his kindness would just feed into your addiction. Your favorite from him was his hot pots.

• Thoma would support you on anything, he thought you were still adorable even while stuffing your face with food. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with you physically.

• If you said you wanted to lose weight and go on a diet? He would say no to all your requests and be the gatekeeper of your bad habits.

You sat frustrated, man you wanted to lose weight so bad. But no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t seem to shed even five pounds. You think Thoma noticed because he brought his hand on your shoulder curious as to what was stressing you out.

“What’s the matter love?” He asked in a chipper mood. It comforted you to be surrounded by such a happy guy, let alone being your boyfriend. Man, you felt so lucky.

“Ah- it’s nothing Thoma, you don’t have to concern yourself with it.” You placed your hand over his with a soft smile, trying to brush his concern away.

“It’s about your weight huh?” He asked. He knew most of your concern lied with your weight, you were openly insecure and he hated when you talked down on yourself when all he saw was perfection. “Listen, you’re fine just how you are. Don’t pay attention to anyone who tells you otherwise. After all, who’re you trying to impress? Them or your boyfriend.”

He was right who were you trying to look good for? You already had the most perfect man in all of Inazuma, plus eating made you happy, especially Thoma’s cooking. It would probably make him sad to suddenly reject his efforts.

[rainy-sys]

rainy willow’s little list of source memories (long post,,!)

once, in the human realm, luz was trying to teach us how to bake, because she had heard that a couple of us had never even had cookies! hunter and gus ended up eating all the chocolate chips from our batter and our bags and they both got super sick,, i brought them both some soup later and hunter was laying face down on the couch while gus was leaning against it with his head back,,, gus told me he wasn’t going to have the soup, and hunter didn’t react (he could have been sleeping,, which he deserves), but i found two empty bowls in the sink later,, gus said “HE DRANK THE SOUP. LIKE A CUP OF MILK”, which sounds accurate,, i think he had both of them,,, i noticed both of them were seemingly sleeping when i came in, so i decided to keep singing to myself (which i was doing when i was making the soup originally), so im not sure if those two heard that, but i hope they didn’t, i was rusty that day (hence why soup was being made anyway)! gus says that hunter drank both things of soup because he knew i made them, but i’m not sure, ehe,,!

i raise to you: hunter talked to me so much when he was reading cosmic frontier,, i think i remember a couple characters, but mainly one’s character motives,, he ranted on and on and it was really nice to just listen to him talk about something so happily,,! he also once went on an errand run with camila and she took him to the library,, he found the rest of the cosmic frontier series there, plus checked out a couple more books about plants, birds, and other nature-y things,, luz and gus say he did that to impress me, which makes me blush, but i think the bird one was more aimed at flapjack, ehe,,,!

speaking of flapjack,, i remember that i made him a little nest once, but he never used it because he deemed hunters hair and neck space to be more comfortable,,

we went to see horror movies a couple times,,! the first time was shown in an image at the end of thanks to them, but the second time we brought camila with us, and she accidentally instinctually threw her shoe at the screen because she got so worked up,, we uh,, had to leave the theater, but we saw the rest of the movie when it came out,,!

gus took a bite of luz’s azura dvd and camila had to go buy a new one,, he felt awful both physically and emotionally for days after!

amity and luz went on dates a couple times, but every time they’d go out, the rest of us would hide specific items and wait to see how long it would take for someone to notice they were gone, hehe,,! >:]

gus saw a human realm squirrel for the first time and Flipped Out

amity learned that cat videos are a thing and she Loves Them

i liked watching funny or scary videos with hunter,, he’d either laugh for five minutes straight or point out how dumb a joke was, or when it was a horror video, he’d pretend he wasn’t scared at all, and without fail, every time, a jumpscare would scare the crap out of him right after,,,!!

there was a time that we went to the dog park because luz realized that we hadn’t seen dogs really and ghost did Not like it there,,

(i will be doing another one of these when i remember more!!)

[massivetyrantduck]

We're back! Incorrect quotes part 3 let's go

Warriors, texting in the group chat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like?

Steam(im experimenting with names for him): *Sends a picture of of a syringe with an apple slice shoddily edited inside*

Legend: *Sends a picture of a shot glass with an Apple poorly drawn inside*

Hyrule: *Sends picture of person dunking a Basketball into the hoop but replaced the basketball with a poorly resized apple*

Warriors: I hate all of you.

~

Steam: It’s nice to be wanted, you know?

Legend: Not by the law!

~

First: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game...

Wind , nodding: Knife Monopoly.

First: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

~

Twilight: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a.

Legend: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory.

Sky: Fuck you.

~

First, seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK??

First, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW!

~

Time: Wake me up-

Steam: Before you go go

Wild: When September ends

Warriors: WAKE ME UP INSIDE

~

Time: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!

Wild: Bet you I can!

Steam: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

~

Time: Guys where did Wild go?

Twilight: They got arrested.

Time: How the hell-

Wild: *bursts in through the window* The cops are after me, I thought it would be fun to steal crackers and throw them at people.

~

Wind : I like to think of myself as a semi responsible adult here.

Hyrule: Sky is 70% of your impulse control and you know this Wind .

Sky: I feel like Wind is the more responsible one of us two though.

Wind : We are both 70% of each others' impulse control.

Sky: Just two lil beasts in pinwheel hats spinning on the merry-go-round at dangerous velocities, holding each other’s hands so the other doesn’t fall off.

~

Wind : Oh, my God. Do you know what this is?

Time: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

~

Legend: Maybe the real monster was the friends we both literally and figuratively murdered along the way.

~

Twilight: So... what’s goin’ on?

Steam: You want the long version or the short version?

Twilight, hesitantly: The short one, I guess?

Steam: Shit’s fucked.

Twilight: Oh. Well, yeah, that’s definitely not an optimal situation.

~

Hyrule: I am very small and I have no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress that I'm under.

~

Time: Hey, Joe said he's coming over this afternoon.

Hyrule: Cool.

Time: Do you know who Joe is?

Hyrule: JOE MAMA!

Wind , not even looking up from their phone: Damn, that backfired.

~

Time: I have an idea.

First: A good idea?

Time: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

~

Legend: We’re about to do the tazer challenge. You want in?

Twilight: What's the tazer challenge?

Steam: We taze eachother, then drink. (no Steam my hc is that ur 17 and my hc is drinking age in hyrule is 18 dont underage drink)

Twilight: How do you win?

Legend: What are you, a lawyer? You want in or not?

~

Warriors: Do you have a bobby pin?

First: Yeah. *searches in their hair*

First: Oh, no, wait. I’m not a nine-year-old girl.

~

First: Some of us are still ‘it’ from a childhood game of tag.

Steam: way to just fuck me up on a Tuesday.

~

Time: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone.

Hyrule: Mine just says "Hyrule no."

Time: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

~

Twilight, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha.

Legend: Do you think other people can’t hear you?

~

Hyrule: My assistance will be an act of beneviolence.

Legend: ...Don’t you mean benevolence?

Hyrule: No.

Legend: *proud mentor noises*

~

Legend: I'll offer you some friendly advice-

Wind : I don't want your advice.

Legend: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

~

Hyrule: You know, studies show that keeping a ladder in the house is more dangerous than a loaded gun.

Hyrule: That's why I own TEN guns.

Hyrule: Just in case some maniac tries to sneak in with a ladder.

~

Time: Stressed.

Four: Depressed.

Twilight: Possessed.

First: Obsessed.

Wind : Impressed.

Warriors: Chicken breast.

Everyone: ...What?

Warriors: I just wanted to join in.

~

Hyrule: Good morning.

Wind : Good morning.

Wild: Good morning.

Warriors: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

Four: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS!

~

Warriors: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

~

Four(Blue and Vio): BWWAAAAAAAAAA! Oh, you hear that? That's the wrong opinion alarm.

Time: That is not something you actually have installed.

Four: Sorry, say again? I couldn't hear you over my alarm that YOU SET OFF with your WRONG-ASS OPINION.

~

Time: If I run and leap at First, they will most certainly catch me in their arms.

Time, running towards First: Coming in!

First: No! I’m holding coffee!

First: *Drops coffee and catches Time*

~

Time: You know you can die from that, right?

Sky: *smoking a cigarette* That’s the point.

Wind : *drinking alcohol* We’re trying to speed this up.

Legend: *Eating raw cookie dough and nodding*

[viseralantlers]

incubo (c!georgenotfound x reader)

warnings: derealization, blood, nightmares (lore george related content)

requested: no

note: im psychic i wrote this last night just to be clear also incubo = nightmare : ) <3333

“Hey George! You ready for the election announcement tomorrow?” y/n smiled up at me, but I couldn’t see where we were, as if our surroundings were just now piecing themselves together. Their face seemed soft, out of focus, yet sharp around the edges. 

“Election?” I mumbled studying how their face seemed off, were their eyes two different colors?

“Yea! You and Quackity! I think you would be a good vice president to be clear. You got my vote for sure!” their smile somehow got bigger, inhuman, unsettling.

“y/n, where are we?” 

“Don’t you know, George? You’ve been here so long.” A trail of blood began to run from their nose down their neck. The floor disintegrating where it had been glued together just seconds ago. 

“y/n?” they smiled at me still, frozen, a grim painting whose eyes followed my movements.

“So so so long, George.”

------

We laid outside my new home in the soft grass that gently waved in the wind. Our bodies created imprints in the ground. y/n’s eyes were closed beside me, the sun caressing the slopes of their face. A bee buzzed somewhere near, pollinating the poppies I had so carefully planted near the fence.

“I’m almost glad L’manburg got blown up” y/n spoke softly, the breeze ruffling leaves nearby “maybe all of them will finally figure it out.” 

“Yea, maybe” I chuckled watching as their eyes crinkled at the edges. “I doubt it, but I hope they do,” I don’t know how I felt about the war, I felt removed, I’d guess. I didn’t partake, other than being declared king as a desperate attempt to steer Eret away from picking up a sword against Dream.

“And you are now big king George. My Majesty” they laughed at me as they crawled closer and pretended to bow onto the grass littered with weeds that took the shape of flowers.

“Oh shush” I thought about what Dream had said “I don’t think it’ll last long anyway.”

“I hope it does, for the dream SMP’s sake.” y/n nestled their way into my side.

“Think I could be a good king?”

“Mhm.” They hummed as they tilted their head up to look at me. The wind blew through my hair and when I closed my eyes to block out the sun it was black. Y/n’s body beside me cold and wet? I didn’t dare open my eyes.

------

“Kinoko Kingdom’s newest member, y/n!” Karl’s face was engulfed with peer joy as he led y/n through the streets of our new kingdom. I trailed behind still in awe at how quick the buildings had seemed to have risen from the ground overnight. “First we gotta show you the first building, THE LIBRARY!” Karl feigned being overjoyed by the prospect of reading.

“Honestly, impressed” y/n laughed alongside him as he led them inside. I watched through the door like a stranger in what I knew to be my new home.

“Hey, George, come in! Don’t hang around outside” y/n called to me with a wide smile. I felt my heartbeat quicken as I cautiously followed them into the room that had walls lined with books. 

“Honestly, I think I’ve maybe read three of these,” Karl said running his hands along the spines of multicolored books.

“I thought you curated this library, Karl. Isn’t it like the reason we are here?” I inquisitively asked him, confused over the confession.

“Oh yea haha, must have forgotten, or something” he scratched the back of his neck taking out a book from one of the many shelves. I opened one myself but I was met with the same phrase over and over. 

‘Are you awake right now? Are you awake right now? Are you awake right now? Are you awake right now? Are you awake right now? Are you awake right now? Are you awake right now? Are you awake right now? Are you awake right now?’ 

I dropped the book as the words seemed to jumble themselves in my head. y/n spun around to look at me when they were alerted by the sound of the book hitting the wooden floor. 

“George?” They slowly picked up the book, flipping it over to read the cover “Why did you drop, uhhhhh, a book of fairy tales?” they laughed as they stepped closer to me to return the book to its place on the stuffed shelf.

“Must have been a misprint or something” I watched as y/n’s face warped from a gentle smile to a malicious grin and I felt my stomach fill with butterflies determined to escape.

“Please wake up.” There’s blood on my hands.

---------

A white bed in the middle of a field, singing birds swooped above the ocean of grass. 

Am I still dreaming?

[ickle-ronniekins]

silent confessions

request from nonnie! “Hey erica! I have a request for you, it's a bit challenging i think but I'm sure you'll do perfectly. Imagine like, the fake dating trope with fred, BUT at the end it's a george x reader? Like, imagine george feeling uncomfortable and jealous seeing the reader and fred acting like a couple even though he knows its not real and stuff anyway im obsessed with your writing love you bye”

pairing: fred x reader, george x reader

word count: 3.8k

A/N: wait, i loved this request. so different from the normal fake dating tropes! i hope this lived up to expectations.. idk why i just feel like my writing sort of sucks in this?? wah, idk, sad, feedback pls? also we’ve got some POV changes in this but they’re pointed out ayyyee, thanks for enduring the fluffiest fluff ever bc that’s all i have to give you hooligans

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan

You

You could practically hear the smirk that grew on his face — he wasn’t exactly being subtle. He took his place next to you in the Great Hall, ignored the fact that you were removing spellbooks and quills from your bag to begin your work, and didn’t bother to heed Snape’s warning glance.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Fred’s voice was a little too sweet for your liking; sweet as sugar, in fact. You knew this voice. It’s the voice he always put on whenever he needed a favor — whenever he wanted something from you. You didn’t look up from the table.

“Whatever it is, I think I’m going to pass.”

He scoffed and closed your spellbook. You grunted in annoyance; you were positive he wasn’t going down without a fight, but you supposed you still needed to try, even though you knew in your heart that this was a fight you wouldn’t win. You turned toward him and he batted his eyelashes at you.

“Dear, dear Y/N — you won’t pass when I tell you what’s in it for you.”

“What type of chaotic mischief that you have planned could possibly be beneficial to me?”

He digested this; you were right, and he knew it. He just shrugged, though, took in your rejection and tried to use it to his advantage.

He nodded across to the other end of the Gryffindor table; there sat Angelina Johnson — fellow Gryffindor, member of the DA, Quidditch captain and, to your most recent knowledge, Fred Weasley’s crush. Again. Boy was crazy about her.

“Thought we already tried this, Freddie?” you sighed, stealing your spellbook back from his very tight grasp and opening it to your desired page. He huffed a bit, and you were quite sure he was remembering the disaster that was the Yule Ball, just a year ago.

You noticed a small grin lift his cheeks; he looked rather smug now, which made you worried. What was it, exactly, that he had planned? “I know last year didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped.” Right. Fred had gotten a little too sloppy on his date with Angelina. She’d been a bit turned off. The night ended and she never pursued anything else; he was so embarrassed, neither did he. Fred Weasley? Embarrassed? The word wasn’t even in his day to day vernacular. But boy, was he shook.

“But it was a long time ago — besides, she’s been sending me all types of signals.”

“I don’t think her eye rolls mean she fancies you, Fred.”

He jabbed you playfully in the ribs. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. I know she fancies me. I just know it. You don’t go on just one date with Fred Weasley.”

You scoffed at his air of egotistical confidence; you shut your eyes at the prospect of him maybe going to someone else for help. Much to your dismay, it didn’t happen. He just stayed where he was, resting his chin on his hand, peering at you longingly as if his staring alone would convince you to say yes to whatever he had up his sleeve. After a few minutes, you said, “If I agree to help you, you prat, will you leave me alone?”

“Can’t say leaving you alone would exactly work with what I’ve got planned,” he replied, relaxing now, tapping his foot underneath the table and not taking his eyes off of Angelina. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Relax, Y/N, I’m not going to pin you against the wall and snog you, if that’s what you’re so worried about,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. You felt as though your throat was closing up at the mere thought of it. “Just some hand holding, things of the like. Need to make her jealous. Need to make her realize what she’s missing.”

You groaned in frustration. “Can I take back what I said?”

“Nope,” he answered brightly. “You can’t. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Don’t get in too deep, though. No falling in love with me, alright?”

You felt a pang in your chest; you weren’t in love with him and you never would be. He was your best friend and nothing would change that. You knew it and so did he. You felt worried, though. What would others think? What if Angelina did get jealous — but in a bad way? Or worse — what would George say?

His was the only opinion that mattered to you, truthfully.

So that’s how you came to be Fred Weasley’s “girlfriend”, and when you both finally told George what Fred had strategically planned, you were relieved and also a bit upset at how nonchalant he seemed; a small grin tugged at the edges of his lips which sent you into a tizzy. You tried your very hardest to hide your disappointment; you didn’t want to let on how absolutely mad you were for him. So, you supposed, when you thought about this ridiculous stunt one night in your four poster, fake dating Fred would certainly squash any and all suspicions George had (if he did) about you fancying him.

“How’s my favorite couple?” he’d asked teasingly one day in the middle of the common room, sinking into the couch on the other side of you. Angelina then popped in through the portrait hole, and Fred placed his hand on your knee, stroking it absentmindedly. You felt a dull ache in your heart when you saw George’s eyes dart toward Fred’s hand.

Angelina had done the exact same thing; you were able to see a very faint shade of pink flush her cheeks before she stormed upstairs to her dormitory without a word to any of you. Fred immediately dropped his hand and you felt your muscles relax, but not without a quick squeeze to your knee and a cheeky grin. “Brilliant, Y/N,” he said, earning himself a dull grunt from you. Not that you’d done much, or anything, for that matter. But still, your heart felt sore at the thought: you wanted, more than anything, for George to reach over and gently graze your knee, pull you into him, kiss your temple as Fred had been doing the last few weeks.

The dull ache in your heart just seemed to grow stronger.

George

“Help me!”

You frowned. “I’m already in the middle of the other favor your lovely brother asked me to do,” you told him with a slight twinge of annoyance to your voice; however, it wasn’t difficult for him to detect a bit of cheekiness, too — especially when he saw the slight grin that spread itself across your lips.

“I just need some help with this stupid Potions essay.”

George noticed you soften at his request; he supposed it wasn’t as time-consuming as pretending to be someone’s girlfriend, and was rather elated when you agreed. You pulled out your desired books from the shelves in front of you and pointed at an empty table in one of the rows. “Let’s get started then, Georgie.”

But the truth was, he didn’t really need help. He was actually doing surprisingly well in Potions, for the first time since he began at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to let it get to his head, though. He figured there wasn’t anything wrong with getting some extra assistance.

It wasn’t assistance that he yearned for, though — it was you. More importantly, time spent with you. Any time — which he found himself getting hardly any now that you were “dating” his brother. He was first impressed at the idea that you’d decided to help Fred with his ridiculous request, and spent most of the time hanging around you teasing you and taunting you mercilessly for it, earning himself adorable laughs and flustered looks in return. But now, as he watched Fred press featherlight kisses to your temple and snake his arm around your waist at every given moment, all he felt was resentment. Jealousy. Hurt.

He felt himself feeling guilty; he shouldn’t be allowed to feel any of those things, because Fred didn’t know. Nobody knew. Nobody knew how he felt about you. Also, this whole stupid thing was just a ploy, anyway. So he suppressed those feelings everyday until he ended up alone in his dorm room, where he’d kick his trunk and scream into a muffled pillow while he let his brain unwind and digest the day's events.

“Ah — work here is finished,” he said after a few hours in the library. Much needed hours, in fact. He watched as you slowly placed your spellbooks back into your bag. “Thanks for your help.”

And in between those bouts of jealousy and resentment came moments of clarity, moments of affection, overwhelming feelings of admiration toward you. “For you?” you started, a gentle smile on your lips as you placed a hand to his knee, “Anything.”

You

You woke up before the sun and groaned; it was Saturday. Four Saturdays, in fact, since Fred had asked you to embark on this silly endeavor with him. Three Saturdays since you’d begun wondering when this would finally be over. Two Saturdays since Fred had told you sooner rather than later. One Saturday since George had noticeably become off balance.

You felt a pull at your heart when you popped through the portrait hole with Fred and Ginny later that evening after a much needed trip into Hogsmeade; you chewed nervously on the sugar quill you’d purchased as you placed yourself next to the roaring fire, Fred taking a seat next to you on the couch when Ginny made her way to the girls dormitory.

You didn’t know where George was; he hadn’t come to Hogsmeade. Or maybe he did, and he’d just very successfully avoided you both as you ended up, hand-in-hand, wherever Angelina was. With the exception of a few measly youngins on the other end of the common room, you and Fred were alone.

“Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“I really need to talk with you.”

He looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet he had clutched in his hands. He furrowed his brow and placed the paper on the table in front of him, criss-crossing his legs and peering at you longingly. Then he turned cheeky and wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Must be important,”

You cleared your throat and felt your heart thundering against your ribcage.

You opened your mouth to speak and closed it just the same. You didn’t really know how to ask what you wanted to — to tell him what you wanted to. So instead, you opted for, “How much longer d’you think this is going to last?”

“I dunno — a few days, or so. Why?” He raised his eyebrows. “Sick of me already?”

“Ha-ha,” you replied sarcastically, jabbing him in the chest. “I just — I’m a bit worried —” you broke off and let your mind wander for a moment. You thought about truthfully telling Fred how you felt. Guilty. Upset. Lonely. In love with someone who didn’t seem to notice. Worried he’d find someone else. “I just hope Angelina isn’t getting the wrong idea.”

Fred digested this. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, you want her to run to you in a fit of jealous fury, right?” he nodded curtly, taking this in. “I just hope she doesn’t see us together and instead, turns the other cheek. Looks the other way. Finds somebody else. You know?” But it wasn’t Angelina you were worried about.

Fred thought about this for a moment. You watched as his cheeky expression turned rather stoic, and then a bit grim. “I never thought of it that way.”

Suddenly, you felt extremely worried. You started, “No, no, you know what? I’m being silly — she wouldn’t, because she’s absolutely mad for you, too. Just forget I said anything, okay? I reckon she’ll be round to snatch you right out of my hands this week.” You laughed, but it felt foreign in your mouth. Fred noticed.

“Y/N,” his voice suddenly sounded a lot less like his own — more concerned. “What’s going on?”

Just then, George popped through the portrait hole with Ron, Harry, and Neville. You met his gaze and let it linger for a few long moments. He then smiled brightly, as if he hadn’t been acting strange this entire past week. With a quick wave to you both, ignoring Fred’s motion to come and sit down, he made his way straight up to the boys dormitory. Fred shot you a glance, and you answered his previous question.

“Nothing, Fred,” you sighed, silencing him before he could ask you if you knew what was up with his twin. You hated how painfully true your next words were. “There’s absolutely nothing going on.”

George

George was outside in the courtyard with Ron, Harry, and Ginny. He’d been doing his best to avoid you and Fred at all costs, which was pretty hard when you were his best friend and Fred was his twin. But he tried.

He found himself growing incredibly uncomfortable around you both; the sheer sight of Fred slinging an arm around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, calling you his “love” — it sent George spiraling. He didn’t want Fred doing those things. In fact, he didn’t want anyone doing those things. Only him. He wanted you to be his love.

“Georgie?”

You took him by surprise in the courtyard; the others were immersed in a conversation about bets, or something. He, though, was peering up at you, doing his very best to not look as bloody nervous as he felt.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer; you pulled him to his feet and immediately brought him back into the castle. You found an empty classroom and sat yourself down on a desk across from him. He had to resist the urge to spill his guts, tell you everything, grab your face in his hands and confess his unwavering love for you.

So instead, he opted for a generic, “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure..” you started timidly. He could see the shyness in your eyes and he didn’t like it one bit. You? Shy around him? You’d never been. He hated that this is where it had gotten too. “Are you mad at me?”

He was very much taken aback at your forward question; way to cushion the blow. He swallowed a few times, trying very desperately to dislodge the lump that appeared in his throat and hoped to Merlin that he could fool you. “Mad? Of course not. Why would I be?”

You crossed your arms, now looking a bit angered. George felt his insides constrict. “We haven’t spoken in days.”

“I’ve just — been busy,” George lied. His jaw tightened. “Assignments, and things. Detention. You know,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood, “the usual.”

You smiled back, though it was a broken sort of smile. Lonely. It took everything in him not to lean over and kiss it right off of your mouth. “Are you sure? You’d tell me if anything was wrong, right?” He swore he heard more than yearning in your voice; he scolded himself silently for being dishonest. Was your voice breaking? “You’re my best friend.”

Inside his pockets, he clenched his fists. He was going to go for it. Who cared about Angelina? Fred could get her without this ridiculous bloody stunt of his. And George needed to tell you before you fell for his twin, for real, and the both of you ended up heartbroken. He stepped forward, but before he could do or say anything, you slung your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. He felt revitalized at your embrace, like he was reentering his body after having been off balance for months. His fingertips found your hips and he focused solely on the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your body pressed tightly against him. When you both parted, he took your hands in his. He wet his lips and took a steady deep breath. “Honestly?”

“Darling!”

Fred’s voice, much to George’s dismay, came from the classroom door. Damnit. How had he found you both? The door was closed! Frustration, anger, and gloom raced through George’s body; he was about two bloody seconds away from decking his brother for interrupting. But he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. Fred didn’t know. George sighed through gritted teeth, let your hands fall out of his, and backed away slowly.

“”C’mon, love, we’ve got dinner,” Fred called, sounding much happier than George would’ve liked. To him, Fred said, “you coming, mate?”

“Be there in a minute, Freddie.”

Fred grinned brightly and left you both standing in the middle of the classroom, the tension still hanging in the air. You turned back from the door, a solemn sort of look on your face, and asked him, “What were you going to say?”

“Oh,” George’s voice got caught in his throat, “just — been a little stressed. Knackered from class more often than not. Reckon I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You frowned. He knew that you were aware not to press on; that was all the information he was going to give. You took a deep breath. “As long as we’re okay?”

“Of course we are.”

“Okay,” you said. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m famished. Let’s go eat.”

You

“Did I do something wrong?”

Fred was standing across from you in the common room, arms crossed, shoulders back, and a smirk growing on his face. He laughed at your nervousness. He’d just told you that things were over between you both. You’d asked, of course, just to be courteous. But you were actually pretty bloody excited. “Of course not, Y/N. You’ve done quite the opposite, actually.”

“Meaning?”

Fred walked over to you and placed his hands on both of your shoulders. He wet his lips before a huge, cheeky grin swept itself across his face. He squeezed you. “Angelina cornered me this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows. You were suddenly feeling much more invigorated. You grabbed his face out of pure excitement and shook him. “And? Keep bloody on, would you?!”

He threw his head back and laughed haughtily now. “Haven’t seen you this excited since before we began this,”

“Sorry,” you calmed down and frowned a bit. “Reckon I haven’t been the greatest “girlfriend”...”

A soft smile found its way across Fred’s cheeks. You furrowed your brows in confusion, hoping that he was going to tell you that he and Angelina were finally, wonderfully, officially together, which meant that you and Fred didn’t need to be. But he caught you completely off guard and said, “Don’t blame yourself too much. I reckon it’d be difficult to pretend to date me, especially when you’re in love with someone else.”

You were certain that your heart had jumped directly into your throat; your entire body went rigid at his words. He knew? Who else knew? Did George? Did everyone?  “I don’t.. know what you’re on about, Freddie.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” he teased, pulling at your hair and shaking his head. “C’mon. You think I didn’t notice? Each time I’d drop your hand, or unwind my arm from your waist, I saw you steal glances at him.” Fred leaned in to get closer to you and you noticed a light shade of pink wash over his cheeks. Had you been silently confessing your love for George this entire time? “He was stealing them right back, you know.”

You swallowed thickly. Did Fred know more than he was letting on? Where was George? “He was?”

“He’s in the Great Hall.” It was evident to you that Angelina was watching from the other end of the common room, and she was smiling brightly. No doubt, Fred had told her everything. You turned back toward Fred and grinned nervously. He took your hands in his and squeezed them. He simply said, “Go get him already, would you?”

And as quickly as your feet could carry you, you ran swiftly down the staircases, through the corridors, into the Great Hall and all the way to the front, where George was sitting, pouring over a bit of parchment, looking positively ghastly. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins like fire; your cheeks felt hot and flushed and each and every muscle in your body ached from running so bloody fast. “Ah,” he said brightly at the sight of you. “Come here to help me, have you? This assignment is a right load —”

You cut him off, ignored this completely and pulled him to his feet; he peered down at you with a confused expression and opened his mouth to speak, but you cupped his face in your hands, pulled him forward, and kissed him. The muffled moan that escaped his lips gave you your answer — he was certainly shocked. However, it didn’t take him long to melt into it; he was kissing you as though he’d never kissed anyone in his life, like the pure feeling of your lips moulding together with his was the very oxygen pumping through his lungs at that very moment. His hands were tangled in your robes, but he eventually found himself stroking your spine delicately with his fingers, earning himself slight whines from you as he laughed cheekily against your lips. From behind you somewhere, someone said, “Hey Y/N, you do know that’s the wrong twin you’re snogging, right?”

“Oi, shove off, Finnegan!” you called, parting from George only for a moment. “I know which twin it is!”

You turned back toward George and the two of you let out a bit of relieved laughter, limbs still entangled together. “I’ve got a confession to make,” he began, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from pouncing on you, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Yeah?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Pretty difficult to do anything about it when you’ve been dating my brother the last month or so,”

“You’re right,” you told him, pulling a bit on his tie, “but I’m pretty sure he broke down and told Angelina everything.”

George raised his eyebrows at you in surprise. You continued, “Pretty sure he got sick of me being a mopey “girlfriend” because all I wanted to do was be with you instead.”

His sweet smile turned rather sensual. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” you told him straightforwardly, running your hands through his very messy red hair.

Somewhere in the distance, over the sea of people watching you both, Seamus Finnegan shouted, “Wait, has it always been George?”

George actually snorted a bit at this; then he bit down on his lip again, wiggled his eyebrows at you, and asked, “Well — has it?”

You didn’t break your gaze, though; instead, you let your eyes linger on George’s for much longer than you normally would. You were pretty sure that you could hear the steady thumping of his heart against his ribcage, and his eyes washing over you like a cool tide completely sent you into overdrive. Suddenly, you were feeling much more confident than normal. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. “Yeah,” you said to George, pressing your lips to his once more, “it’s always been you.”

reblogs, comments, feedback, and all of the above are always appreciated!

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 4 (Nessian AU)

A/N: I know I haven't been able to update as fast as you'd want me to but I'll try to fix that. Your comments and feedbacks are very much appreciated. Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: None really

1652words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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The best way to keep whatever problems one has out of their mind was to do something they liked. That was the only way Cassian kept from spiraling. Since sending the woman to her own house, Cassian had more than a few moments when he wanted to repeatedly slam his head against a wall. That’s why he spent most of his time sparring with Azriel. He won’t admit he was simping for that woman in his free time too. Or maybe that was always.

Now, sprawled on a couch in front of the TV, with nothing to do but stare at a blank screen, Cassian led his thoughts to the box he kept all unwanted thoughts locked in. He thought about Tomas, her ex-boyfriend. Funny, he thought. I know her ex's name but not hers.

It took him a little too long the other day to realise they didn't exchange names. Again. He once thought that maybe she was purposely not giving him her name. That maybe, for her, he was just a random stranger who happened to save her life. He snorted. Surely anyone would know the name of the person they saved or was saved by— stranger or not. He supposed he'll have to make do with pronouns for now.

After she left his home, it took every scrap of self-restraint not to beat this Tomas dude to pulp and let him rot in the same alley he had the misfortune of meeting him in. He may or may not have been the cause for some extra injuries. Cassian appreciated the woman’s attempt at mercy. He, however, didn’t trust Tomas at all. He was dubious about just handing him over to the police. Who’s to know he won’t frame him and the woman for absurd things? Anyway, he left a note in Tomas’s house saying something like “Step out of line, lose your favourite part of anatomy. Name it and have it for your meal.” He made sure he printed so that no one would recognise his writing. Yet, all this didn’t calm his nerves one bit. He presumed he’ll have to stay on guard for some time now.

Now, back to the girl. He sighed. He didn’t dare change the sheets in his guest bedroom. He didn’t even let Mor use the room when she came over last weekend— which he could bet created suspicion. No, that room was only open when he craved her scent. He even realised one of his shirts was missing. He shrugged it off thinking he would've left it somewhere and just couldn't find it. Once she came to his house, he was constantly thinking about her. So much that now he started pinching himself often. It was the only way he could stop thinking about her— by creating physical pain.

Cassian glanced at the clock on the wall. 2.30 in the afternoon. He walked to the refrigerator and checked his freezer compartment. Huh. No ice-cream. He sighed, grabbed his jacket and keys and headed to the mall to get an ice-cream with a pout. He’ll have to leave for Rhys and Feyre’s first anniversary only around 5.30 to prepare everything. He has enough time to get an ice-cream and probably hang out for some time. Good enough to stop thinking about her. Or so he thought.

***

Nesta wasn’t sore anymore. Her headache was gone almost a week after the incident. Her nose didn’t hurt anymore. Okay, maybe a little bit. It didn’t hurt unless she bumped her nose against something. Today, her nose was dully throbbing because she hit her nose against a pillow yesterday. A very, very soft pillow and yet it hurt this much.

The man’s first-aid and medicines were really helpful.

It really wasn’t fair that he excelled at basic first aid too. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good. With black tattoos swirling over generously muscled arms and shoulder-length dark hair curling at the edges and gloriously tanned skin and hazel eyes with minute flecks of green and brown when taken a closer look at and dimples and—

A quiet “Who is it?” snapped Nesta out of her moping. She looked up to see Gwyn walking to her.

“Who is what?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. Gwyn's pursed lips and glare conveyed that her act wasn't enough.

“Who are you thinking about?” Gwyn clarified.

“What makes you think I'm thinking about someone?” Nesta retorted.

Gwyn sat on the chair next to her and started assisting with classifying the unceremonious heap of books on the table to be kept back in its correct positions on its own rack.

“Nesta,” Gwyn sighed, “Clotho assigned you this stack almost an hour ago. And you've barely finished a third of the stack. Normally, you'd finish stacks bigger than this in an hour. So there's clearly something.”

“It wasn't anyone,” Nesta mumbled.

As usual, Gwyn saw through her lie. “You were twirling your hair,” she said flatly.

Heat inched up her neck. “I was not!”

Gwyn murmured a “uh-huh” and they lapsed into an easy silence till they were almost over.

Gwyn's eyes lit up as it normally did whenever she got an idea. “Is it him? The guy you came with that day?”

Nesta scowled, “How do you know…” she broke off when she realised which 'that day' Gwyn was talking about. Nesta fought back a blush. “No, no, this isn't about him. We don't know each other. Much. Like, we've seen each other a number of times? That's it. Nothing else.” Cauldron, the first part was a complete lie. But at least the rest are true. Will Gwyn happen to know his name? Maybe I ought to ask her. Or maybe I shouldn't.

She should, she decided. She cleared her throat. “Uh, Gwyn? Do you happen to know his name?”

Gwyn frowned and asked, “He hasn't told you yet?”

Nesta shook her head and answered, “No, we, uh, forgot. I guess. We haven't really exchanged names.”

Gwyn nodded and smiled. “Well, he is—”

“Gwyn!” a voice called. “You can't expect me to come over to you and beg for you to help me. Help me only if you want to or don't work under me.”

Gwyn’s eyes widened. She abruptly stood up and mouthed, “Merrill. I gotta go. I’m so sorry.” She all but ran to Merrill, the very strict librarian Gwyn was working under.

Nesta sighed and continued her work. There wasn’t much left so she was able to finish fast. She picked her things and left the library with a word to Clotho, heading to the mall.

***

The best way to keep whatever problems one has out of their mind was to also eat something they liked. So, ice-cream it was. After having his ice-cream, Cassian was aimlessly walking around the mall. Here, not more than a month ago, he met her for the first time. Almost a month ago. He huffed out a breath. The fact that he was pining for her this long blew his mind off. He—

“This is your fault— not mine. I’m not taking the blame for this,” he told her. They bumped into each other. Again.

Her lips quirked up. “It is kind of my fault. But blame this—,” she poked his chest, “— for making my nose hurt again.”

Just like that, his mood sobered. “How are you?” he asked.

She pointed at the cafe to her left. “Coffee?”

He nodded. Who was he to say no to her?

So they ordered coffee and talked about everything and nothing. He grinned and she laughed. He laughed and she smirked. He wouldn’t say he knew her well but he’d never seen her so carefree. Her laugh was like nectar for a starving man. Her eyes bright and welling up with tears from laughing.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed this much,” she said.

Cassian put a hand on his heart dramatically and said, “I know, I know. I’m very funny.”

Her lips kicked up a notch. She straightened as if she just realised something. He was about to ask when she drawled, “So I just realised that we still haven’t exchanged names.”

Oh. Right. Of course. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Usually, when people meet, they start with introductions but in our case we’ve literally bumped into each other three times and still we don’t know each other.” He shook his head and extended his hand. “Well, hello there. I’m—”

His phone rang in his pocket. Fuck. He was going to kill whoever was calling him now. He was so close to knowing her name. He pulled out his phone to see an incoming call from Azriel. He apologetically looked up at her and said, “I’m sorry. I wish I could choose not to take this call and instead kill this idiot but I can’t. Just give me a moment, okay?”

She nodded and he picked up his call.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

“It’s 5.30 already, you idiot. We’ve got to get the things ready for the party. Mor already went to get the cake and you’re not even at home. Where on all earth and hell are you?” came Az’s faint voice.

“15 minutes only? Mother above, I’m coming.” he said.

Az’s “make it fast” was the last thing he heard before hanging up. “I wish we could stay here and talk forever,” he said to her, “but I have something up in a short while and I totally didn’t realise time was passing this fast. I’m so sorry. It was nice talking to you. Really. And I wish we could meet again. Though without the bumping part.”

He grinned when she smiled and said, “Bye. Have a nice day.”

“You too,” he called back. He didn’t want to think he imagined the subtle look of disappointment on her face because hell, he was a walking epitome of disappointment right now.

taglist:

@shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @ddsworldofbooks @irenethaleia @sjm-things @dontgetsalmonella

[seriouslysam8]

Hello, Sam!

I have just started reading your series Moments in Time that I saw Breanie recommended and I must say, it is absolutely wonderful so far!

Croup: This was not at all what I expected! I stumbled across this universe recommended on Breanie’s tumblr and thought I better start in order. PUH-Tunia really is a bitch! You can just see the abuse already inflicted on him and he’s only three! The mental anguish of a three year old being told he can’t have nice things because he breaks them can’t have been good for poor Harry! No wonder’s so unsure of everything later on. Yelling at him because he’s sick like it’s his fault! Im surprised she even gave him medicine! Wanting him to sleep outside in the “frigid air” and only deciding not to because the neighbours might see really says a lot about her personality. Ive never read anything from Petunia’s point of view before but well done. I hate her even more than before. I look forward to following this new adventure that is your moments in time universe. Great read!

The Boggart of Grimmauld Place: This was just so heartwarming! Harry getting to spend even a little time with Remus and Sirius at Grimmauld Place was what was missing from canon. Memories of his grandparents, learning about them. It was just lovely! When Harry is ashamed of wanting Sirius to embrace him a little longer my heart ached for that poor boy who never got to feel real hugs and affection. He thinks he should be ashamed for wanting to feel it and he shouldnt! I blame for petunia for that. I meant to say that in Croup how she touched his forehead to check for a fever and he flinched like he’d been expecting her to hit him. Poor poor little Harry. I love how you play on the connection here between Harry and Sirius and even parallel it to the Potters and Weasleys. Harry being surprised that he would be in Sirius’ will at all. Harry just being surprised that people care about him. Makes me want to just give him a hug! What abeautiful story! Thank you.

Hide and Seek: This was so fun! I love the thought of them all playing hide and seek in Grimmauld Place and everyone joining in! Remus and Tonks making out in the cupboard was the best! It was definitely my favourite part and Sirius just teasing them! Hermione thinking something happened between Harry and Ginny. I loved how Harry opened up a little to Ginny. You could see he was actually really comfortable with her in a way he’s not with people. Absently massaging her wrist, touching her. He was caught up in her without realizing he was caught up in her. Adorable! The second addition was wonderful! I love how Ginny just took control, loosening his tie, taking off his jumper… they are the superior couple! While I am a tad disappointed to not see them making out at the end, I loved this story. Thank you.

Seventeen: Wow! This was a story I didn’t know I needed. Harry and Ron lovingly admitting they’re brothers warms my soul. I love that touch of giving them matching watches! Was that canon? If not it should be. Mrs weasley feeling guilty over Sirius is so like her. She loves and cares for Harry as if he’s her own son and it’s wonderful to see. The last bit with Ginny was perfect! They definitely had to do more than the uninterrupted kiss and I love how Harry just basked in her. The end made me so sad! His heart breaking over missing her birthday, lost opportunities. Very beautifully done! These one-shots are amazing and I look forward to reading more of them. Thank you.

The Demise of Walburga Black: This was absolutely amazing! The image you crafted of them laughing like lunatics as they destroyed her portrait was awesome! What I like most so far about your writing is how you gently weave in Harry’s relationship with the Weasleys. I love the idea of George moving in with him and Ron, that Harry would offer his home to him like that. I love that Harry goes to Mr Weasley for renovation advice. I think its so hot that Harry would renovate the Muggle way (so sexy to see men in a tool belt and I’m going to assume he’s shirtless and sweaty). I love that it was Angelina’s idea and how you casually had Ron toss in that George and Angelina were already sleeping together. George not really being drunk, is that because he drank a lot to cope with Fred’s death? I think it is. Harry’s reaction to being caught by Mrs Weasley, how his guilt eases into pleasure that Mrs Weasley would call both himself and Ron George’s “younger brothers” and his glee in being lectured by her in a motherly fashion. And dont even get me started on the scene with Ginny! The way he gushed on his drunken ramblings about making a home with her and wanting to raise a family and her not wanting to get her hopes up because he’s so drunk! I laughed out loud when Harry said that drunk Harry wants to do dirtier things with her or something like that. Just wonderful all around! Where’s Teddy in this story? I know he lives with Andromeda in canon but I thought I read that you have Harry raising him. Ah well, maybe the next tale will answer that question! Thank you.

That’s all I’ve had time to read so far, but I just wanted to say thank you for writing such a rich and vast universe! I can definitely see why Breanie recommends you so much! I have a few questions if you don’t mind.

1) What made you decide to write a story about Harry’s early childhood from the point of view of Petunia instead of Harry?

2) Do you think Petunia and Vernon physically abused Harry when he was little? It’s fairly obvious he had psychological abuse, but do you think there was more?

3) Do you think Ron and Hermione knew Harry had never played childish games like hide and seek as a child? Do you think the others knew and that’s why they all agreed to join in?

4) When do you think Harry actually started to notice Ginny? Was it in his fifth year and he just didn’t realize or do you think it was later? There is the scene where she puts him in his place over the possession bit and of course when they get kicked out of the library together. What are your thoughts?

5) Was it canon that Ron and Harry have the watches of Mrs Weasley’s brothers?

6) Do you believe George could handle his alcohol better because of his age or were you insinuating he had become accustomed to the drink after losing Fred?

7) Where is Teddy when Harry lives at Grimmauld Place? From the summaries of your stories I got the impression Harry raised him. But I haven’t read any further so I may be wrong.

Sorry for so many questions, but I am curious. I look forward to reading more. Thank you for your time. You’re amazing and I love your work! Thank you.

I have been following your review journey and getting more and more excited the further you get into the universe!! I am going to try my damndest to answer all these asks you’ve sent today but I have an incredibly busy weekend, so it may take me a little bit to answer them all especially if you’re asking specific questions since I won’t have access to my computer a lot. So, I will answer all your asks, but give me the weekend because I want to give you the best and most detailed answers I can!

1.) Honestly, Croup and Brontide (I promise, no spoilers) are the reason I started this as a series. I mentioned Harry had croup a lot as a child in Brontide and then wanted to write a companion piece. I thought, what better way to demonstrate Harry’s childhood then telling a story through Petunia’s POv because she’s absolutely horrible. Plus, I didn’t think I could get into the mindset of any other POV for that story.

2.) I definitely think there was physical abuse as well. It’s indicated in the books (Harry knowing to dodge away from a frying pan or something). So, I do feel they did physically abuse him as well. He has a few scars to show from it.

3.) No, I don’t think they knew. Maybe some suspected it but not know. I think everyone was just sick of cleaning Grimmauld Place and wanted to do something fun. It didn’t matter it was a child’s game. They just wanted something to do.

4.) I think he started to like Ginny as a friend in fifth year. I think he started to notice her as someone more than just Ron’s little sister. I don’t even think he noticed how he felt comfortable around her in fifth year either. I like to think all the dots started to connect earlier than 6th year but Harry just didn’t know what it all meant. Then 6th year come and he’s like crap… I really her! But it was building, unknowingly, to Harry before then. Ginny had been slowly forming into her own person in Harry’s mind and he felt comfortable and liked what he saw. He just didn’t connect it romantically at that time.

5.) No, the watches isn’t canon. I wish it was though. Honestly, when I wrote it, I totally forgot they mentioned Ron getting a brand new watch in canon until months after I wrote the story.

6.) George was a bit of an alcoholic after the war. It’s mentioned more in-depth in Brontide. But he definitely held his alcohol better because he has been spiraling into alcohol abuse for months by that point.

7.) So, again it’s mentioned in Brontide, but Teddy lived with Andromeda for the first year of his life before Harry gained custody of him. Andromeda didn’t feel comfortable with Harry raising Teddy at first. Once she got to know him and see how much Harry cared for Teddy, she handed over custody to Harry so that Teddy could live a more normal life and have parents and siblings.

[theonlygamergost]

French homework and a Dream - fd!au. ( part 1 / 2)

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay ctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

This fic was corrected by the lovely @im-default

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Techno and Dream did the fatal mistake of choosing French over Spanish and now they have to suffer the consequences together

next part --->

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy~

Lunch break was sacred for Techno, it was that magic moment where he sat at a table alone, in the corner of the cafeteria with a book of his choice to read and block out the chaos of the fellow students. You know what they say: if you can't find peace, create your peace.

With lo-fi music or classical piano in his ears, he would peacefully eat his lunch, recharging his social energy (already consumed in the first half of the day) by not talking nor seeking company. Even though, from time to time, he would get some visitors:

One of his brothers could drop by if they needed to talk to him or they were also already feeling exhausted, Skeppy would also sit with him and try to initiate conversations, in vain since Techno ends up ignoring him unless he needed something important.

All in all, Techno didn’t allow anyone to disturb or interrupt his moment of peace, neither he liked sharing his book or music with anyone…

Well, anyone apart from Dream.

In between the rivalry for the smartest kid and best (nerd) Minecraft pvp-er, the two had started frequenting now and then, maybe studying at the library together or grabbing a bite after school before parting ways, all in all, they found to have a similar love for quiet company and taste in music.

So, to see Dream sit next to Techno, steal one of his earbuds, and tug the book a little closer for him to read as well wasn’t rare, but a treat to see.

“TALK TO ME TECHNO!!!” Skeppy had been trying to get his friend’s eyes off of the book for about five minutes or so, just to get completely denied by an unbothered and concentrated face. “Techno pleaseee!!!! I need attention!” his head fell on the table, “...I can tell” he finally replied while turning the page.

Skeppy groaned and went on bothering him for another five minutes.

Techno sighed, “Can’t you go bother someone else?” Skeppy was about to complain again, but a familiar laugh made the both of them stop and look at the direction it came from, “You’re so needy Skeppy”.

The boy in the green hoodie placed his tray next to Techno’s, leaving his backpack on the seat next to him, “YEAH! And this stupid pig isn’t giving me any attention!!!” after a second of silence they all giggled at Techno being addressed as “Pig”, something that only Skeppy could get away with. Not even Dream could call him that without either a complaint or a casual roast coming from the other teen as a consequence.

“Have you studied for tomorrow’s French test?” He took a bite of… whatever the cafeteria had made that day, he couldn’t really tell since it was so… revolting-looking, but it didn’t taste that bad and Dream was pretty hungry. Skipping breakfast was a habit of his so whatever he could eat at lunch was fine by him, it just needed to fill him up until the end of the day.

“Nah… I can’t remember some of the verbs, let alone when and how to use them” he replied before sipping on some water, “Same… some words are unpronounceable too… “ Dream and Techno both made the grave mistake of choosing French over Spanish as a second language, Techno made a very bad first impression with the teacher and Dream overslept three lessons in a month, let’s say that if they didn’t do good on this test… they could kiss goodbye a good French overall vote at the end of the year.

Skeppy exploded in a loud laugh, banging one of his fists on the table meanwhile holding his stomach, “Sucks to be you!” they sighed in defeat, Skeppy got convinced into choosing Spanish by a friend so he couldn’t relate to their problems since legends told that the Spanish teacher was a very nice person.

“I’ll leave you two to your nerdy problems, later losers!” Dream told him goodbye meanwhile Techno simply waved.

The blonde boy stretched his arms and grabbed both his phone and diary out of the backpack, flipping through it he nudged the other boy lightly, “We only have French for tomorrow… wanna study together?” Techno hummed a reply as the blondie took one of his earbuds, Techno reacted with a question: “Want to study at the library or..?” Dream’s head tilted, “Or what? We don’t have another place to study” Techno furrowed his brows for a second, “Well… no, you’re right”.

The reply made Dream curious, but he limited himself to finishing his meal in silence, enjoying the quiet company until the bell rang.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s already six pm?! We haven’t even finished memorizing this stuff!” Dream groaned in frustration while Techno just dropped his head on the book in front of him, they had been studying for two hours interrupted only by a bathroom break, and they weren’t even half-way done with their homework.

“This will be the only low grade on my paper this year…” the low murmur was muffled by the fact that Techno’s head was still slumped on the books, “Oh come on…”, Dream rubbed out the tiredness from his eyes, “I know that I won’t get anything done once I get back home, my ADHD goes crazy when I’m studying French… it knows I don’t want to study it so it makes me think about everything but that!”, the blonde boy chuckled, “I can never focus when It’s French too…”

Well, that was a slump, both of them knew that going part-ways wasn’t going to work… If they wanted a decent grade they had to have a study partner.

So Techno took a shot in the dark.

“Ok listen, I’ve got a plan:  come sleep over at my place, my desk it’s a bit messy but if I throw everything on the ground we’ll fit, you can’t eat dinner with us because Phil already cooked it and it’s not enough for five people, it’s not enough- but we can go eat somewhere”.

Dream froze in genuine shock: he had never gone to the Pandel house, nor he had ever been invited by Techno anywhere really, he was usually the one that asked him to grab a bite together, Techno only ever asked him to study, and that was already pretty rare. So getting such an out-of-nowhere invitation to eat together AND sleep at his house was… very surprising.

“Uhh… sure, can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Techno nodded, “Well then…  should we go eat now so that we have more time to study later?” Techno nodded again and they started packing up their stuff, grabbing books and pencils that scattered on the table while studying.

“McDonald’s?” Dream proposed, “McDonald’s” Techno replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, they were crunching on some fries, Techno texted the Pandel chat about Dream sleeping over, Phil agreed almost instantly, telling Techno where he could get some blankets and an additional pillow, the problems were Wilbur and Tommy that didn’t like the idea of having Dream in their house, (because they had a Minecraft server where they and Dream had a bit of a… “difference” of opinions…) but Techno told them to cry about it and closed the chat, reassuring the boy in the green hoodie that he could spend the night with him.

On their way home, Techno had noticed by reading the notifications that the Berry brothers had proposed a last-minute movie night, to which the other Pandel’s agreed, already counting Techno off, so it wasn’t a surprise that they met Wilbur and Tommy leaving when they arrived.

“I’m glad we are leaving, two tryhards together must be a revolting sight” Wilbur adjusted his coat as Tommy tied his laces, “I’m glad you guys are leaving too, we really need to study and my desk is a bit small, we can use the kitchen until you come back” Dream stifled a giggle, the passive-aggressive energy the Pandel had when speaking to each other was very entertaining, Techno turned to him and pointed at the clothes hanger behind the door, “Put your jacket there, oh and don’t forget to take your shoes off, I’ll get you a pair of slippers, Eret’s one should fit you”

He opened the closet to almost disappear in it, “Bye big D! Have fun with TechnoNerd!” Dream cringed at Tommy’s goodbye while Wilbur snickered at it, “Bye… and please don’t call me that ever again”

The front door closed as Techno dropped a pair of dark blue slippers in front of him, he thanked him, grabbed his backpack and followed the pink-haired boy while looking around:

the living room and the kitchen were in the same room, there was also no proper table, not that there was room for it, so he guessed that they ate on the kitchen counter.

There were four doors in the room, the first one on the left before the kitchen, a pig sticker gave Techno’s room away, on the other side of it, next to the couch, there was a door with a big sign spelling “NO BITCHES ALLOWED” with an evil smile scribbled next to it, he guessed that was Tommy’s room.

Not too far away from Tommy’s room, there was another door, but this time nothing was on it, and the fourth door was to the right of that blank door aka on the opposite side of the front door. He guessed one was a room and one was the bathroom, there was a hole next to the fourth door though…

Techno sat on one of the stools and opened his backpack, “As I’ve said, we can stay here until the others come back, if you need the bathroom it’s this one” He pointed at the door directly behind him, door number three… but then…

“Why is there a hole next to that door” Dream pointed at the forth door, Techno smiled briefly, “Uhhh… It’s a long and secret story, but to give you an idea that is Will’s room” He blinked a couple of times to let the information sink in, Techno snapped him out of it by waiving his pen in front of his eyes.

“C’mon nerd, we have work to do.” To which Dream apologized and sat next to him, taking a deep breath before opening the french textbook.

[yournameyn]

Feeling Deeply

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

A/N: Aaaaaa this is the first fic I'm posting ever ever. It's basically a way to follow the red thread of my desires. OC is named Brishti. She's Indian. She's Bengali & curvy & an introvert. This whole fic is 90% going to be a slow burn fluff fic about two introvert nerds getting to know each other. Seriously there's like hardly any real angst, maybe slight angst about okay when are these two going to bang - if you look very carefully but basically its just slooooow fluuuufff. Hopefully you all like it. Please let me know what you think. Current Chapter: This one is loooong. Remember this is all happening in the 1960s. OC & Namjoon are both really well off first gen immigrants. In this chapter we have our couple coming closer together - talking about some issues they've both had in their lives. Also this is the chapter where you'll get to know one of my favourite Namjoon songs and like why the OC is named what she's named. Also just a reminder because im a bit paranoid - Rim Jhim (referred to as Rim) is our OC Brishti. Its a pet name that's introduced in this chapter. And Namjoon being the wordsmith that he is makes it shorter, with the korean meaning of the word.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface-ish Chapter 1

Chapter 2

And so it went for the next few days, the two of them quietly discovering each other. They were finding out the normal, casual, small things - how he didn’t like mint chocolate, how she loved bitter black coffee. Since both of them worked, they decided to split the chores at home. It worked out great because Namjoon liked to sweep & Brishti loved to do the dishes. They both struggled to cook but they decided to learn how to cook each other’s cuisines. So she was learning how to make kimchi (the green onion one) & he was learning how to prepare daal (the yellow one). They split the rent & decided to create a separate bank account for their savings. Talking about money increased warmth because they discovered that neither valued it excessively.

Slowly, they began talking about things a little more intimate. Meanings of names were revealed. She was impressed that his name meant genius. And he loved that hers meant rain. Pet names were introduced. He called her Rim - an even shorter version of her daak naam Rim Jhim. He told her to call him Joon. She looked away, smiling, then - silently telling him they’re not there yet. What he didn’t tell her was that he was already making up a fairytale about Joon, the genius & Rim, the brilliant jade that makes him so.

They spoke about books the most. Between them, they had half the globe's literature covered. She had read Indian authors & Russian & Spanish ones. He loved Korean authors, Japanese literature & all the Greek Classics. He geeked out about philosophy & poetry while she nerded over nature writing & music. They spoke about how they might take a look at other European writers & musicians together. To that end, Namjoon brought home a book of love poems by Rilke.

He hadn’t told her that he wrote poetry too. He hadn’t mentioned anything because it seemed like an indulgence of the past, poetry. But that night everything changed. After a late dinner, Brishti had asked to read aloud from the book he’d brought. As she read ‘To Music’, Namjoon saw tears float in her eyes. Secretly, something inside him had wept too. And just like that, he knew he would begin writing soon.

Each week the two watched late shows of classic hollywood musicals in a nearby theatre because they’d decided against a tv in their home - opting, instead, for a record player. Meeting for a movie each of the two Fridays they’d spent together so far was an experience both looked forward to - not only for the movie. In the darkness of the movie theatre, they experienced the first glimpses of intimacy. Soft smiles, whispering, silent glances, hands caressing each other. He loved how she laughed with abandon. She loved that he would tear up during the emotional scenes.

Her smile was getting wider, warmer toward him, Namjoon noted everyday. He’d been sleeping separately since their wedding night because he wanted her to feel safe. He was mostly okay with that except if he thought about it… If he thought about a time when he would get to touch her - Namjoon almost felt dizzy with feelings.

This happened the most when he saw her read by the window, he ached to touch her. That was her - Brishti - that was who she was at her core. Reading, running her fingers through her short hair, staring out the window, thinking, looking at clouds & then going back to reading. She was still quiet, but less so. She spoke about the rain and the trees and when she was happiest, he learned, when she really trusted that no one was going to judge her, she spoke about the moon. It had happened twice in the last few days.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. As though that needed reasoning, he thought about it at the office too. It wasn’t the only answer he could come up with but Namjoon had never seen a body like hers. She didn’t seem brittle or delicate, the way most women looked - or were “supposed to look”. She didn’t care what a body is supposed to look like, at least, it seemed that way to him. Brishti’s curves were not subtle. She was short and while almost everyone was shorter than him, Brishti was just… sexily so. She’d do these things… seemingly normal, everyday things but they would quickly, embarrassingly, inspire an arousal in him. Like, that thing she did, when she stretched after waking up or even if she stretched her arms or her neck… for some reason that turned him on so much, he’d have to hide… or excuse himself. His breath hitched, everytime he thought about how he hadn’t still actually seen her body.

Brishti, too, enjoyed looking at him from afar. Sharing, creating a living space with a man was never something she thought she would enjoy. They had exchanged the basic stories of how they had reached each other.

Namjoon had said, “I’d met a couple of women… girls… but they just seemed either plastic or porcelain… you know? I mean, not all of them could have been that but that's how they… presented themselves? You… I saw your photos in a pile that the matchmaker labelled ‘rubbish’”

“What?!”

“Yeah… I’m sorry but it’s actually a compliment to be labelled ‘bad’ by a matchmaker. That’s why I was looking in that pile in the first place… when I heard you wanted to keep working… Honestly I was so relieved...”

She smiled, “At least you got a look at me… I didn’t even know what you looked like till we met. I had no choice at all. A boy had agreed to marry me - despite… me… so that was the end of it. That was the bargain with my brother… otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to work either.”

“Wow… I’m so sorry, Rim. That’s really… really unfair.”

“Hmm yeah… I just figured if I can keep earning & the man turns out to be wrong, at least I can leave.”

“That’s… thanks for not leaving...”

Brishti smiled, “I got lucky...”

Namjoon understood, then, that Brishti might be an introvert but that did not mean she was shy. She made him blush & laugh. She made him speak without inhibition. The more time he spent with her, his feelings poured out.

“Thanks… It’s been really nice to share this home with you. Just to have you to talk to… My life was not going that great...” he said.

Brishti nodded, even though she already knew this. Whatever he said, strangely, she could see a deeper melancholy behind it. They spoke about being strangers in a strange country. She told him how she had to fight at the library for Tagore to be considered classic literature. How she was slowly but surely, being accepted in the oddball group that ran the library. She was not the only non-english person there, so things were easier for her. Besides, true readers had always been more accepting of the different.

Something made her regret sharing her happiness about this because his struggle in this foreign land was far more intense… she could sense pain behind the words he used. Namjoon did not enjoy his job the way she did. He worked overtime most days and came home bone-tired. Kim Namjoon was in many ratraces at the same time - races Brishti felt he didn’t want to participate at all. Being a lawyer, being an asian - the ‘model minority’, being a slightly well-off Korean in a sea of white men, in a sea of less fortunate asians who were being treated much worse than him. Trying to create a name, an identity of his own was wearing him out... chipping away at his soul.

Brishti sometimes saw him and saw a great banyan cutting itself down, trying to be a shrub just to fit in. When she asked him how his day was, he always smiled. It was real, the smile and yet it couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. Something that was beginning to bother Brishti more and more, these days. He... had begun to matter more and more these days.

Now, about two weeks into their marriage, she was experiencing butterflies about the smallest things; Things like watching him sleep on the fold out, bringing him coffee in the morning. She felt a pull deep inside her take over when he would come out of the shower in the bathrobe, skin glistening from the shower & musky man-scents launching her body in a fantastical arousal & her mind in overdrive. Somedays, Brishti even went for a shower after he’d been, just so she could soak in his essence & bathe in a trance she had never felt before.

On their third weekend together, Namjoon didn’t have to go to work the whole weekend. He’d spoken to his superior at the firm to let him have weekends free - after all, he was married now. Post lunch that Saturday, Brishti and he kept unpacking, organising while talking (well, later on, it was just coffee & talking) into the early hours of Sunday. They spoke about things they loved, people they had loved. About fictional crushes and real ones. Both of them spoke about their past relationships. Something Brishti was delighted about - especially since Namjoon told her he was not the type to hold someone’s past against them.

Brishti couldn’t believe it when Namjoon had correctly guessed, “It was the photographer, right?”

“What-?! How- Where- How did you…?” Brishti couldn’t even form a question.

“Your photos, at the matchmakers… something was different. All the other pictures women give out for arranged matches seem... fake. Yours were… real… private. You looked comfortable… looked like you were being teased...” What he didn’t say was how much it seemed in those pictures like she was with someone she truly liked… maybe even loved.

Sat on the ground opposite Namjoon, Brishti kept her gaze on him. It unnerved Namjoon that she could really see him. She unnerved him further when she said, “You should say what you aren’t saying… or… asking?”

“Did you love him?”

“Not really… it was just... a different kind of friendship… ended almost as soon as it began. But I- I don’t regret it. It wasn’t the kind of love-” she trailed off. She looked away, smiling but trying to hide it. The same way she had in the photograph.

He pressed further just to tease her “Kind of love...?” Namjoon was intrigued because she was blushing now & he wanted to plant a thousand pecks on her. Instead he said, “So you can just… stop what you were saying? Mmm. Okay. I see.”

She looked at him then, “I’m feeling… a lot… of… different things these days. Especially because of a couple of dimples...”

Just like that, she turned the tables & his dimples appeared. He blushed, “Yeah… same. I mean… you don’t have dimples but I’ve-”

She nodded to let him know she understood. And then asked, “Uhm... Have you… had sex?”

Namjoon bit his lip, “Yeah… yes. I... had a girlfriend in law school. It… uh… wasn’t serious… for her.”

Brishti looked away nodding, as if stopping herself from saying something.

He looked at her… knowing what she probably wanted to say. He wanted to hug her but he only said, “It doesn’t matter, does it? For me it doesn’t. Doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex too… I know how people can be about virginity… I- honestly… it's just another way to control people.”

She looked at him with a mixture of emotions. She took a minute to compose herself & then said, “I’ve never met a man like you… and it's a little confusing and annoying… Not that you are annoying… not at all. It’s just the world is annoying because this is how low the standard is for a man. A man accepting that the woman has a past makes him… forward…? But of course the woman has to… because, well, he’s a man and he has needs. We’re all told that… Shirley... who works with me… she knows it too. Women just aren’t supposed to talk about their pasts. All women.”

She paused & got flustered further because of how dedicatedly Namjoon had been listening. It really seemed as if he was taking notes. The serious expression on his face, it made Brishti's ears feel hot. Almost as a distraction, she went on -

“It's crazy but that seems to be the only thing THE WHOLE WORLD has agreed on - they can’t agree on one way to make bread but they all agreed that women are inferior. It’s such a basic thing to just let me work… because I want to… but it's annoying that it makes me feel lucky. My best friend had to go through hell because she thought she could trust her husband with the truth about her past… so it makes me feel lucky that… you won’t…”

Namjoon could see the pain in her words. Maybe that’s how she could always sense the pain in his words, he thought.

After a calming silence passed over them, he spoke - “I won’t. I don’t really know what it’s like for a woman. And… maybe you won’t like to hear this, but… I was the same, Rim... I was the man my society had trained me to be. Everything changed when I came here. When, for the first time in my life, I understood what it’s like to be treated inferior. Since then, I just… I cannot be the cause of a feeling like that within anyone... So… you’re right. I’m not doing anything everyone shouldn’t already do. All of this should be normal. Expected. Hopefully the world learns a bit faster…”

Brishti smiled at Namjoon. She chuckled when tears pooled up in her eyes. He instinctively reached out for her & placed a hand on her leg, just below her knee. A jolt went through Brishti and she looked surprised. He did too. Namjoon retracted his hand immediately & looked away, blushing. That’s when Brishti laughed out loud. She stood up. And asked him to stand up, silently.

He did. It always made Brishti’s heart flutter just how gorgeous and tall he was. Someday, she would tell him. Someday, she would show him. For now, she couldn’t help feeling bashful as she asked, “Can I get a hug, Joon?”

This was the first time she’d used the pet name that he’d asked her to call him by. This was what his family called him. And her using this name assured Namjoon of just that - she was becoming family. Her question had made his heart flip. He moved without really thinking, because this is what his body had wanted since the day he saw her. He pulled her up in his arms. He felt like he was melting. She was soft. Warm. Beautiful. And in his arms.

Brishti gasped a little when Namjoon had scooped her up in his arms. She was on her toes, literally & figuratively. She held onto him, less as a hug & more as support… at first. Then, she felt his arms… the strong arms that she had been ogling at, around her. It was as if a knot came undone, within her, suddenly. And in its place, the softest silk suddenly flowed through her body.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. The same essence that she’d been soaking in after he had showered, that she had been breathing in whenever he would pass by or reach past her. The essence that she had now become so hungry for that she had been secretly sleeping with the shirt he’d worn from the laundry basket. That essence was now all over her. Her chin turned up, resting on his shoulders, her cheeks touching his, her hands - on their own - reached the nape of his neck and began to play with his hair.

When she did that, Namjoon held her tighter, pressed her on to him. He felt her body react to his. One hand reaching her shoulder around her back, he moved the other closer to her waist, so his hands could fold over her curves. He could feel her breath hitch when he did that.

Brishti was revelling in the feeling of his hands, his fingers, feeling his fingertips press into her - that was a feeling she could never have imagined making her so... so... drunk. She was drunk. She ran her hands up and down his vast back, all the way up to his hair. All of a sudden she could feel herself overcome with emotion. Tears began pooling in her eyes again. And she said, before it was too late, she said, “Thank you, Joon, for everything… thank you.”

When he heard the tremble in her voice, Namjoon pulled away, just so he could see her. Brishti quickly retracted too - to wipe off her tears, trying to laugh off the silliness, apologising. Namjoon replied, “It’s okay… I understand… I… Thank you, Rim. I hope you… you know what I mean...” What he wanted to say, what he hoped she understood was that she was what was helping him come alive. But being unable to, Namjoon knew someday he would. Someday soon.

Brishti nodded to say she understood. Namjoon tried to lighten the atmosphere, saying, “You’re not… just anyone, you know? So… maybe you should tell me something I could do which is… not just basic decency, but something that can be considered truly feminist, you know. I’d love to do that for you.”

Brishti smiled and nodded. She suddenly felt tired & almost of its own accord, her body stretched into a yawn. She said, “I’ll think of something. We- I should go now… Do you want- anything?...” Brishti was delighted about how drunk she had gotten from one hug. It was exciting that she knew she’d be sleeping with the sweater he had tossed in the laundry basket tonight. She decided to take a bit more time to enjoy being intoxicated without a substance, together and alone.

Later that night, as Namjoon laid on his fold out sofa, alone, he thought of how great it had felt to have Brishti in his arms. To have someone who wanted to know about his day. To feel her heartbeat, like raindrops, knocking on his chest like it was a window pane, almost as if asking to be let in…

Thoughts like these, they made Namjoon reach for the notepad & pen that he always kept close by. He wrote. He wrote of being world weary and suddenly having a friend. Suddenly feeling like the world wasn't rushing him, that he didn’t need to run, that he could take time, be slow, be a poet. His heart tugged at his pen as it wrote lines about what it felt like to have someone cry for him. To have someone be full of feelings for him, to have someone to embrace his weary body. He wrote about how he missed that embrace and yet it was okay… as long as she was still here, maybe not just next to him, yet. Maybe someday. It was okay because she asked how he was every day and Brishti was here, forever. Namjoon felt tears run down his own face, as he titled the first poem he’d written in almost five years - Forever Rain.

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Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please please let me know what you thought! Get into my messages about it! I would love nothing more than to hear what you felt about this!

[sachiwrites]

some friends to lovers hcs for sakusa pls? i've been thirsting over him for a while and seeing him in the recent manga chapters plus season 4 is just--

same fam, same. its been a whole mess over here. yikes this got long

— you are 210% that neighbor who his parents rely on to acclimate their son into being a somewhat decent member of society. is it a hardy task for someone at the age of six? yeah. was sakusa an absolute shit at that age too? of course. but he stopped that one kid from pulling your hair in class that day so he’s basically your unofficial hero. even if it was only because apparently you had ‘cooties’.

— naturally you continued to have this unknown disease for most of your life. but apparently so did everyone else in Japan. except when you got older it simply became known as- physical contact.

— “kiyoomi, why don’t you play outside with your friend?”

—“ they’re dirty.”

— sticks and stone may break your bones but the mud streaked across your face and hands would most certainly kill sakusa. or at least that’s what you thought at the age of seven when you went grab him off his front porch anyway. he sort of whined and pushed you for it, causing you to fall back on your rear, much to his parents obvious disdain. or as so you gathered as you smirked over their shoulder as they carried you inside, earning an extra few years of sakusa’s ire.

— “yoomi, lets play tag.”

— “it’s kiyoomi. and no, play by yourself.”

— “sakusa-san, yoomi doesn’t want to-“

— “run”

— the two of you were ‘reluctant’ friends until the age of eight. more or less, sakusa was required to spend at least half an hour outside with you a daily. half way through that the tenture you had mercy on him and introduced him to video games within the safety of his own home. sakusa has zero interest in crash bandicoot, but he likes you a little more for your concede.

— but his parents knew what they were doing when they put their son’s social reputation into your hands. for a while you were his only friend but occasionally you were able to integrate him into society. through little things like sitting down your lunch next to his and offering to be his partner in project.

— “i don’t need your help with this.”

— “maybe, but i need yours, so pretty please.”

— sakusa was a young genius and it would benefit you to take advantage of that feature. call it payment for all your years of servitude.

— the only time you found yourself not needing to be a crutch in his life was when he was playing volleyball. it was an option during recess to give the students an opportunity to scout out interests in athletic ventures. the sport was almost too perfect for sakusa- as an indoor requirement with almost no physical contact. it was his niche. a part of society that catered to his needs in a way that didn’t require your intervention.

— naturally, others began taking notice of his talents. other students were more likely to invite him for games during breaks- most knowing to keep their distance and touch to a limit. his own enjoyment of the sport slowly geared him towards pseudo-friendships that allowed him to play more and garner his skill set.

— “im going to try out for the volleyball club.”

— of course you knew this much. it was what he was so obviously looking forward to the most in junior high. it was just his decision to share his own thought with you the struck home.

— “yeah? i guess i should get some cheers ready for you games, eh?”

— he flinches away from your enthusiasm, his face portraying a mistake in letting you know so soon. but not once did he ever deter you from coming. in fact, you continued to be made aware of each an every upcoming match regardless of importance.

— “we have a practice match against haizen today.”

— wasn’t the most significant but he invited you so you’d be there. probably more vocal than you needed to be but he could mark your attendance and that’s all that mattered.

— a small part of you was worried that volleyball would take your place. it obviously had more suitable attributes than you. but it almost became a staple in your evolving relationship.

— in fact the first game you missed inflicted the first real argument you could remember having with sakusa. it surprised even his parents when you met him the next day to walk to class. you were use to a quiet shoulder but not a cold shoulder.

— “is something wrong?”

— it continued for most of the trip until you couldn’t take it anymore and reached for his arm. instead of shaking you off, he turns on you, gaze lit a flame with an emotion you didn’t recognize.

— “i had a game and you didn’t show up.”

— thinking back you did recall most of the students congregating towards the gym after class. it vaguely registered but you’d seen less of sakusa that day and more of pressing from your teacher to get your grades in order.

— “i had to stay back with my instructor. i needed help with my studies.”

— it was a little embarrassing- not something you wanted to admit. especially to someone like sakusa who obviously excelled where you fell short.

— “you’re an idiot. you come to me for that. ill help you after my games.”

— perphas it was in that moment that you should have realized that sakusa was more cognitive of his reliance than you were.

— what he does realize it how much he’s going to have to help you if he intended for you to join him at itachiyama. the school had shown interest in him earlier than year and it was mutual. but it’s prestige called for academics when sports weren’t your strong suit.

— matches weren’t the only appointments sakusa held you to. nearly everyday after class, whether your place or his, he made himself present while you studied. he wasn’t an overbearing tutor but he called you out in your faults and made you aware of mistakes before they became a habit. he wasn’t going to make you a super genius but you would become a student worthy of acceptance.

— the two of you were building something that only your parents noticed at first while watching from the doorway. itachiyama would be a dynamic chapter for both of you.

— the title of that chapter is: volleyball. because wow does that become an even bigger part of your life. itachiyama was already a powerhouse before sakusa but now he’s a cog in the wheel and an important one at that. quickly climbing ranks and becoming an imperative part of the team. if only he was more receptive to his newly popular status.

— he was still the same old germaphobe- avoiding crowds and wanting to get home as soon as possible to shower in his own tub instead of the school issued ones.

— his personality sort of highlighted your presence more than you expected. but given sakusa’s overall avoidance of unnecessary interactions, it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise.

— “he can be a bit much, but please take care of him.”

— above your bowed head, his older teammate coo and awe at sakusa’s cute little friend. this of course leads to more teasing for him but it’s all part of being part of a team- a larger whole. something you were willing to give up a bit of sakusa for.

— “are you two dating or something?”

— oh but that. you get a lot of that. not just by his teammates either. everyone seems to notice how sakusa tolerates you more than anyone else. though part of you wants to point out to his fan base that they would get a lot further if they just gave him his space. -yet here you were huddled up close in the library while he looked over your school work, so what could you say to that?

— “are you paying attention?”

— “hey, i got most of these right. give me a break.”

— not thinking about it, you go to ruffle his hair as a retort. an action sure to give you his ire- but it doesn’t? in fact his gaze doesn’t even lift from his book. and is he leaning closer? weird.

— sakusa is making rapid progress not only within tokyo but on a national level. it’s one of his teammates that points out his accomplishments to you one day while you’re waiting for sakusa to emerge from the locker rooms.

— “your boyfriend is really something else. already the ace of the team and he’s climbing the stats nationally too. you must be proud.”

— you are proud. very impressed, in fact. but sakusa is not your boyfriend. an important note that you most certainly do not get to point out because now sakusa is here and is corralling you towards the exit from his pressure of his chest against your back.

— he’s much more hands on now. less in tolerating your touch and more so initiating his own. it’s a late realization but most of your attention is stuck on that same teammate who is waving mischievously from the door.

— but oh man. it’s becoming a lot more obvious to you now when sakusa offers to hold you books while you change your shoes, and holding on to them even as you travel to class. he sits a little bit closer to you during study hall now, the erratic hitter of your knee brushing against his with every jerk up.

— “...are you okay, ‘yoomi?”

— he doesn’t complain about the name. not even a pinch of his brow, just confusion as he peers down at you.

— “im fine.”

— huh

— it’s all fun and games until his fingers catch yours one day while you walk side by side. it seemed like a fluke, just an accidental swing and bump. but then they’re latching and now you’re connected?

— “yoomi?”

— “it’s cold”

— yeah. okay, fair enough.

— periodic becomes occasional and now it’s a habit.

— and of course everyone takes notice. because sure sakusa tolerates you more than most. but now there’s a basis for it.

— “ah, so tables have turned.”

— “i knew it.”

— “top in the nation and already dating. our little kohai is such a pillar.”

— you’re beyond overwhelmed. worse because kiyoomi looks mildly irritated but doesn’t seem to be denying any of it.

— and you just have to ask.

— “yoomi are we dating?”

— because wow, only yesterday it seemed like he was still just your best friend. one who held your hand, shared his lunch, fell asleep on your shoulder in more than one occasion-

“— “we’re together. we’ve always been.”

— okay, yeah but context here.

— but then he’s dragging down the mask across his face, letting it hang under his chin. his lips are on your temple and phew, that’s new.

— “we should get home. i have a match tomorrow.”

— a game that becomes a statement in more ways than one.

— “ooh, is that sakusa’s jacket? so the rumors are true.”

— you fumble with the sleeves that seems to be determined to swallow up your hands. when he’d first offered it to you, it seemed so natural.

— “you might get cold.”

— god your boyf-... friend was so confusing.

— “not really. he hasn’t asked.”

— your classmate seems unconvinced but doesn’t comment further. that’s doesn’t say the same for the rest of the class who use every opportunity to chip at your resolve.

— “haven’t they been dating the whole time?”

— “they always hold hands now.”

— “i mean that’s his jacket isn’t it? it’s he like a germaphobe?”

— it’s getting harder to concentrate on the game. and certainly doesn’t help with every glance sakusa tosses up into the stands. by the end of the match, you’re beyond frazzled and ready to just sakusa the second he emerges from the gym.

— his teammate offer thanks in exchange for your praises on a game well won. it helps to distract you for a brief moment-but there he is now.

— his fingers slip befeeen yours like they belong and you can’t find the voice to complain. after congratulating him, there’s not much more said on your part. he walks you to your doorstep, not just the entrance, and lets his hand fall away. yet you both linger.

— “are we-“

— “are you-“

— when it comes down to it. obviously sakusa fails when it comes to words and actions seem to speak clearly.

— sakusa doesn’t protest when you reach up and undo his face mask for him. going as far as to lower his head, aware of your intentions, when you lean in.

— it’s a short kiss. a testing peck to balance in the shallow end before diving deep. his nose nudges yours and it’s your laugh that breaks the kiss.

— kiss-with kiyoomi sakusa-your once reluctant friend and now?

— sakusa leans in again. this time his hand on your shoulder for stabilization. there’s no tongue or extra touches. it’s just the act.

— life is all about changes.

— you smile and decide, yeah, you can do this.

— before he can leave, however, he’s tugging at the collar of his jacket.

— “i prefer to use my own detergent. but you can have it back tomorrow.”

— or maybe just some adjustments.