#i need to immerse myself in good words and like...take a break probably?

[notasapleasure]

holy shit Brassian writers

[definesanity]

I've been trying to write a Ranni!Reader SAGAU style fic and like I don't know if you're cool with me venting about objectively pointless things but here we go

First of all, I never actually imagine myself in self-insert fics? It's actually really immersion-breaking for me. I have no idea why. (Y/N) and other variations of self-insert fic vocabulary are also immersion breaking for me, so I'm not using them.

I keep going back and forth on Ranni!Reader's pronouns and titles. I want people in the story to call them Lady Ranni, but that's gendered? But calling them 'Your Highness' doesn't feel right? But I want to be inclusive? But it's also my fic? But I want to be inclusive???

I've decided that Diluc himself is the one who executed R!R (every hour is Diluc suffering hour in my house) and the Imposter is the one who gets Godwyn'd.

I have also decided that regardless of where the execution takes place, Neuvillette is present for it. Neuvillette might be a Dragon Sovereign, but he doesn't feel the full force of R!R's divine presence until they're executed. Imposter has something similar, but it's a weak and pale imitation of primordial godhood. It's just that no one realized until it was too late.

Furina knows of the execution but doesn't show up for it, she hardly needs to. But the following day Fontaine experiences unprecedented rainfall, like dramatically so, and Furina has a moment of 'oh, shit'

Furina: *bursts into Neuvillette's office* WHAT HAPPENED

I have learned an amount about ye olde pronouns. 'Thy' is possessive, unless the next letter starts with a vowel, then it's 'thine.' Same with 'my' and 'mine.' 'Ye' is the plural form of 'thou' and 'thee'. Non-pronoun words I'm kinda feeling out, by which I mean reading R!R's dialogue out loud to test how it sounds, meaning at least one member of my family has probably overheard me putting on a Welsh accent and speaking Shakespeare. Hardly the weirdest or most concerning thing I've done on my own time, tbh

Well, good on ya, I'll say! :D

1. I understand what you mean; my way of writing insert stories is just to never directly say the reader's name, either (Name), Y/N, or even just _____, as it helps to keep immersion.

2. My favourite gender-neutral term, which I believe might help you, is "My Liege", which is similar to "Lord/Lady". Of course, that's up to you; additionally, 'Witch' could technically a neutral term, so yeah c:

In short; the choice is ultimately yours :3

[nikethestatue]

I absolutely love your writing and wanted to ask you about this. I feel like when I read back my own writing, I can't "get into" at all. I can't immerse myself in reading it, as if I were reading something written by someone else. It's just disjointed words and phrases. So I have absolutely no idea what tone I am achieving, how realistic the dialogue is, how engrossing it is, or basically how "good" it is. No clue. It's just words that don't connect. I feel like I can barely edit/proof my own work because of this. Have you ever experienced this?

Firstly, thank you so much. I appreciate it.

So, the funny thing is that my own memory for my writing is shit. Like I forget things almost as soon as I write them. Once the scene is out of me and my consciousness, I sort of move on from it. So, when I read it back, it actually reads pretty normal in my head. I essentially don't associate my writing with myself, and if some time passes, then it's almost new to me.

But I think it's totally normal not to feel like it's 'your' writing. I think it's good, healthy even. I don't think you'll ever know about 'tone', or what effect your story has on someone. Some rules do exist, grammar exists, development and pacing do exist, but I think you should just write and not worry too much about it.

Proofing sucks, so I try to proof as I write, because right after I am done with a chapter, I can't go back and proof it, because I need to disengage from it and take a break.

But for example, a week ago, I re-read Match from the beginning, and I was like, oh, this is pretty cool! I like it! :) Hahaha. I just read it as a story and not as 'my' story and it was good.

Frankly, some of the older things, I probably wouldn't even recognize or remember anything about them.

I think, try not to be too self-critical. It's too easy to get into the weeds and just self-flagellate yourself for every word. But I also think that writing is something you NEED to do. It's inside and it's like birthing a child. If you don't get it out, I feel like it can actually drive you crazy. So just write. It's almost like you can't help yourself, and that's the beauty and the tragedy of writing. The story has to be told. Some will love it, some won't. It is what it is. Once it's out there, you can't control it.

[tamarakkoarchive]

FE:3H livetweet thread (1/3)

i'm familiar w advance wars so it's not new grounds gameplay-wise to me but i still turned off the permanent death thing because well. this sure seems an annoying as hell feature

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after spending almost a year playing nothing but smtiva this will be my palate cleanser for a wh- oh god damnnit

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fond of this closer-to-how-an-irl-foreigner-speaks syntax approach rather than making the character speak like a caveman or just say random words in their own language

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the eng VAs are honestly good and often give a special touch to some characters but i ended up muting the voices fast bc games using them in every existing text box makes me dizzy

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actually nvm comparing it to AW, calendar system w rpg jobs is the actual cursed deal here lol wondering the margin of error before i get permanently fucked

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set everyone to wear the uniform properly to please my ocd

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i can't help but get irked by characters going overboard on being stylish in settings that wouldn't make sense, act like the church pawns you are!!!

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slurp

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me: hm so tea time is probably the equivalent to that swsh curry thing 3H: would you like to zoom and observe me: huh caspar: *gives me the horniest look* me: ?????????????????????????????

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can you refuse romancing a character like in p5 or are you locked into the first mf that you are nice to... oh my god... sorry caspar you were the primary reason i bought this game but i refuse to betray my class and go yumejo even if it's you

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the other day i saw someone commenting that mixing dating sim with other game genres leds to the downfall of not exceeding in any (obviously implying FE and persona) and like, i think you can perfectly dislike this mix for what it represents and what appeals to regarding these franchises but strictly gameplay-wise i think it's very old man yelling at cloud opinion to get mad inherently at the mix of genres lol.

for smt i personally don't feel the need of big breaks between character interactions and the rpg aspect bc the battles are short (and actually, the demon negotiations are by themselves them lol) so i'm meh for persona but for this flavor of strategy game where you can take a whole hour on a mission i think it's pretty natural to wanting to have smth else mixed to make it less heavy on the player. i'm finding myself surprised at how long i can stay playing this per session compared to AW

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the story progression is kinda… idk the word we barely know anything abt the cast or what the story is going to be abt and edelgard trauma dumps her whole life in the first alone night w byleth and says edgy stuff out of nowhere like girl? i just learned to fish the other day?

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pretty fond of krabappel

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ive been trying not to pay 2 much attention to it but i don't rly see the point of showing byleth's reactions and making her speak so much considering she has the personality of a dry wall lol it adds nothing to the scenes and just breaks the silent mc immersion

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3H: commoners are plagued by structural racism which also happens to have a lot of dark skinned ppl in It me: well yeah 3H: it's bc nobles are inherently born w dangerous magical abilities so leadership naturally falls to them me:

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pretty funny to see a character in the wild and remember "oh yeah. this guy. one of the 3 gay choices for the male mc where it's onesided"

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annette watch out!!!! a male version of me somewhere might be fucking your father!!!!!

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girl it's one thing to teach but now asking me to pick up trash like excuse me?????

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boy, forget flayn. dive into my chest right now

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oneeshota church achieved

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now THAT'S what i'm talking about

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just like irl high school

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byleth sadly staring at her feet from the thought that she has only attracted genocidal women and boys with no pubic hair

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[butterysalt]

🌿✨🎀🎀 (that's right TWO compliments, and here's one from me too bc you deserve them all: i love the way your fics feel like they take place in a universe full of life and detail even around the main characters or events. even the shorter ones still feel like you have a detailed picture of who the characters are and what parts of them you want to portray or focus on, and it makes reading that much smoother and more immersive!)

OH MY GODDDD BEANIE YOU'RE THE SWEETEST. Genuinely teared up over here... I get so happy whenever I get any kind of message notif but AGH??? SO DETAILED? CRYING.

(Fic writer asks here!)

🌿how does creating make you feel?

Ahhh this is a big question! I like creating! But it can certainly be daunting sometimes... I think it's because I mostly do art. I find myself enjoying it less these days since I'm usually drawing for others in return for money. I keep taking commissions because I need money but it does take the joy out of creating sometimes. But whenever I do get to sit down and draw something I really enjoy, it's cathartic. It reminds me of why I still draw - it's that amazing gift I have to be able to make anything I want with my hands. And it fuels me with passion! I get really excited to see what else I can make! I have my ruts here and there but ultimately, I see creativity as a beautiful outlet and I'm really grateful for it. This all applies to writing too, of course!

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

ueihfjidsjgdsi I'm tempted to list one of my wips BECAUSE I DO NOT POST ENOUGH HELP DSDSFIJGD

If I had to pick, probably my John Watson x Reader Soulmate AU fic "A Silent Fate"! I thought it was a flop so I never had the motivation to finish it, but it's still one of my favorite ideas.

It uses the soulmate AU where everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them written on their arm. The twist is that the reader is mute! John Watson goes about his life, assuming that he simply doesn't have a soulmate - that theory further hardened after meeting Sherlock Holmes, a man who breaks all conventionality and rejects conformity. Then one day, the reader and John cross paths and the reader has to get creative with how they "talk" with John.

I really really love this idea because I'm all about "thinking outside of the box" and challenging myself with something uncommon. I don't think I see many mute!reader fics let alone mixed with the soulmate au so I wanted to give it a shot! I have the whole story drafted out... it's just unfortunate because I haven't felt the same way about the BBC Sherlock characters in a while ahaha

🎀🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

GAAHHH TWO!!! hmmm hmmmh mmm

✦ I like that my fics are long! It's something I get self-conscious of sometimes but I think it really shows how passionate I am about a fic when I can't stop writing. Because I really love adding all those little details and getting into the worldbuilding - it's my favorite part (the setup)!! I love the feeling of reading a good story that feels like it comes to life around me with characters who feel like real people. That's what I hope to achieve in my writing

✦ Another thing I like about my writing is ummm umumummum I like the way I write dialogue! Coming back to "making characters feel like real people", I LOVE writing extremely awkward pauses and fumbles in written dialogue (Explains why I love writing Reigen so much). Adding those "Um... erm... well-" and "AhaHAH-" just adds flavor and I'm way too obsessed with it

THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS AHHHH THIS WAS SO FUN!! ILYSM BEANIE 💗💗💗

[kayleen756894]

for the fanfic writer asks: 11, 15, 20, and 34

11. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

Character and emotion driven for sure. I love diving as deep into my characters as I can, getting a thorough understanding of how they function, so readers can relate or empathize with their feelings and emotions, and I try to show those emotions through my sentence structure and language. I try to make everything as immersive and picturesque as I can.

15. What is the fanfic you’ve written that you’re most proud of?

I can’t pick just one cause I’m proud of so many of them for different but equally important reasons.

“Flightless” for the prose and characterization in a compact little box.

“Stay” for practically being a poem of romantic tension and being the most challenging fic I’ve written so far.

“Home” for how many emotional punches I could throw in a row and the amount of fun I had writing it.

“Smile” for the sheer impact it had on the ship I wrote about.

There’s so many others but it would take forever listing them all lol

20. What feedback makes you the happiest to hear?

I always like hearing that people noticed / appreciated my writing style or syntax and pointing out certain words or sentences they enjoyed, and I especially love when people compliment my characterization, but I’m always happiest hearing what my story made someone feel. If I succeeding making someone cry, smile really big, blush and hide their face in a pillow, I wanna know lmao knowing I made someone feel something real is the highest compliment.

34. Have you felt emotional while writing a scene before? What scene was it?

Oh absolutely, and again we’d be here all day if I discussed them all. I dive deep into all of my characters when I write them, I always try to imagine myself in their situation, able to feel and see everything and how I would react if I were them, and I use this to fuel the emotion in their actions. Every day I’m thankful to have a vivid imagination lol

Chapter 5 of “Stay” is probably a good example. That was hard to write with all the emotions hitting their climax and revelations made and just a lot of ugly things going on. When characters are crying or otherwise extremely emotionally vulnerable is both my pain and my joy; I love writing those scenes, they’re cathartic, but I usually need constant breaks lmao

Thanks for the ask!

[crimeronan]

Dia duit! Conas atá tú?

So I just started learning gaeilge and I absolutely love it, but I can’t get the pronunciation rules to stick in my mind. They make sense to me and I don’t have trouble saying things right but I still can’t sound out words without checking the pronunciation. On top of that I’m learning two other languages right now, one of which I need to be fluent in in three years in order to be eligible for my master’s. That might be besides the point though, I just. Have no idea how to get my adhd brain to cooperate with me on this venture. Do you have any recommendations??? I hope you’re well!

táim go maith, go raibh maith agat!!

my advice will probably not be helpful if you're already DOING this, but for me the Biggest help was listening to irish speakers while reading along with an irish transcript (instead of english subtitles).

duolingo is pretty good for this, although there's only one speaker for the whole course

i also really like gaeilge i mo chroí, which is a youtube channel that covers basic irish and breaks down pronunciation basics with the accompanying words/sounds on screen.

(the eclipsis and lenition explanation videos on that channel are LIFESAVERS.)

perhaps the MOST important resource has been máire ní shúilleabháin's music, because she accompanies all of her songs with the transcribed lyrics onscreen

when songs go too fast for me to pick up the syllables i slow the video down to 0.75 or 0.5x speed and repeat the words more slowly!

for me, the main key to picking up irish thus far has been to relax and let myself absorb it instead of trying to consciously memorize all the nitpicky pronunciation rules and grammar constructs. it's kind of like how when you read a book, you'll stumble if you try to parse exactly one sentence at a time instead of letting the story flow without stopping

besides all of this info - which again, won't be super helpful if you're already doing auditory immersion - my best advice is to.... sort of.... ground your study? with mental associations. my own adhd brain is a sieve UNLESS i actively make connections that make the info accessible

by that i mean, tie the things you're trying to remember to something Else in your brain. some people do this visually; i'm not a visual thinker so my memory tricks are all audio. i give vocab words that are too similar little audio tricks. beef is martyred (mairteoil) and pork is mucus (muiceoil). take a toe (tógann) but give a tug (tugann). growth is fast (fásann) and excited fans wait (fanann). i have.... like.... hundreds of these. then as i practice more i cement the knowledge so i don't need the memory hack anymore

where this relates to PRONUNCIATION is: as your brain is picking up patterns in the spelling, pay attention to words that use unusual consonants/vowels. see if you can ground the pronunciation with the word itself

it's easier to give examples than try to explain fksjjd so like these r some of mine

bh - "w" with broad vowels; bhuachaill

bh - "v" with slender vowels; bhfear

éa - the letter A; éadaí

oí - the letter E; oíche

agha - the letter I; praghas

iúi - ooh; spéisiúil

dh - "yuh" sound; dheartháir

fh - silent; fhear

th - "h"; dátheangach

sh - "h"; sheanmháthair

basically just: where have i already seen this combination of letters before? how was it pronounced in that other word? is it the same here?

but truly i cannot express enough that becoming familiar with the pronunciation wasn't about memorizing lists of consonants or watching a ton of linguistics videos. it was just about reading and repeating enough irish words for my brain to start recognizing patterns by itself! the same will likely be true for the other languages you're learning as well. language is used to communicate, so the more you use it for that purpose (instead of purely academic analysis), the better your grasp on it will be

[mizunetzu]

iwaizumi finding out hes gay and having an extreme gay panic when they get their new manager in aoba johsai and the team teases him to hell and back for it (iwaizumi x male manager!)

Nice to see you again, boke saiikai~~ also look at iwa freak out in this gif AHAHAHA

——————

Iwaizumi x reader - Iwa-chan, Panic!

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Iwaizumi lazily scratched the itch on his stomach, not caring that his shirt was slightly lifted up and people could see his stomach if they looked. Eh, it’s not like people were around anyways.

He was already running late to practice, so he might as well reserve his energy and take a detour to the gym. It’s not like anything important was happening anyways.

“Yo.” Iwaizumi yawned, pushing the door to the gymnasium open. He slipped through, only now realizing that no one answered his greeting. He also noticed everyone was gathered into a loose semi-circle, apparently looking at something Iwaizumi couldn’t quite make out.

“What's...goin’ on guys?” Iwaizumi neared the huddle of Seijoh volleyball players. Matsukawa turned around, seemingly the only one who heard Iwaizumi in the first place. Mattsun nudged his head towards the middle of the circle, the clearing, where someone was standing.

“New manager.”

Iwaizumi’s ears perked up. Oikawa was complaining about ‘having at least one manager before he graduates’ but also ‘one that’s not one of my fangirls, because they wouldn’t take good care of the team.’ As insensitive as it sounded, having a manager drool and follow Oikawa for the majority of practice instead of doing their job does sound pretty frustrating. Iwaizumi scratched his head.

“Don’t tell me Shittykawa finally found a girl who doesn’t fawn over him.”

Matsukawa shook his head.

“Not girl.” He pointed to the boy standing there awkwardly, moving out of the way slightly so Iwaizumi could see. “It’s a boy.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes trailed from his feet, up to his firm-looking torso, and trailing around his nice-looking arms and hands. He couldn’t help himself from checking this dude out. Maybe he was just curious as to why this boy joined as a manager and not a player-

Iwaizumi’s eyes finally met the boy's glass-like (e/c) ones. He realized now that as he stared at this boy's mesmerizing eyes, his own (e/c) eyes began to stare back at him. Stare with his eyes growing wide, a cute doe-like expression on his face. But all he could see was his breathtaking, iridescent eyes.

“Uh, earth-to-(L/n)-chan?” Oikawa, who was standing next to ‘(L/n)’, waved his hand in front of his deer-in-the-headlights-face. He visibly jumped, blinking a bit, and turned his head quickly, pretending he was staring at Oikawa the whole time.

However, it wasn’t the same for Iwaizumi. He continued to stare with his mouth parted slightly, absolutely mesmerized by this guy’s handsome face. It seemed so...holdable. Like he wanted to walk up to him and hold his face in his callused hands and just...stand there. Forever. Squishing his cute face in his hands.

Cute? Cute? No. No. No. Not cute. Iwaizumi Hajime was not finding a man cute. No, not in a million years.

So why was his heart pounding in his ears so much?

His heart wouldn’t calm down. His everything wouldn’t calm down. He couldn’t tear his eyes off the new manager boy in front of him, immersing himself in conversation with a blush to shake off the fact he was totally staring back. He couldn’t help but feel confused. For once, he felt jealous of Oikawa. Not because he wanted to be popular or stalked by fangirls or anything, but because this boy’s full attention would be on him, and not Shitty-Crappy-Stupidkawa.

Matsukawa snapped his fingers in front of Iwaizumi’s face, smirking when he threw his head back in surprise with the reddest face he’s ever seen him with. Iwaizumi blinked, blankly, trying to process what just happened, before somehow exploding into a deeper shade of red.

“Are you sick or something?” Matsukawa placed the back of his hand on Iwaizumi’s forehead jokingly. “Oh. Nevermind.”

“Wh...I-I...huh..?”

“You’re just gay.” Matsukawa wiped his hand on his practice shirt. “Super gay. Super highschool level gay. You were totally checking out Manager-kun there.”

Iwaizumi grabbed Matsukawa by the collar, shaking him around in hopes of shaking the truth out of him.

“I-I’m not!”

“First symptom: denial.”

“Shut up-!”

“E-excuse me…?” Iwaizumi stopped dead in his tracks. Matsukawa was one second away from bursting out into cackles at Iwaizumi’s impossibly pale face. They both slowly craned their necks towards the foreign voice. Iwaizumi suddenly forgot how to breathe.

He, ‘Manager-kun’, seemed more utterly breathtaking up close. He was standing right infront of Iwaizumi, looking directly at him with his attractive (e/c) eyes. He didn’t even realize when Matsukawa wormed out of his grasp.

“(L/n)-san, good afternoon.” Matsukawa bowed slightly. “My name’s Matsukawa Issei, by the way. Thank you again for being our manager. We look forward to working with you.”

“Ah...thank you.”

When Matsukawa looked back at Iwaizumi, expecting him to introduce himself, he caught Iwaizumi staring at him with goo-goo eyes and an equally confused, frozen-stiff expression from Manager-kun himself. They stared at each other, one from awkward silence and the other from pure, unadulterated gayness. Matsukawa rolled his eyes.

“Dude!” Matsukawa jabbed Iwaizumi in the side, making him snap out of his trance with a grunt. “Don’t be rude, introduce yourself to Manager-kun!”

Iwaizumi broke into a cold sweat. He turned back to ‘Manager-kun’, attempting to look as cool as possible.

“Y-yo...the name’s Iwaizumi HaJIMe-” Iwaizumi’s voice did not want to be on his side today. The betrayers that were his vocal cords cracked mid sentence, making Iwaizumi cough horrendously in hopes of covering it up. Mattsun looked like he was going to die holding in his laughter.

“Nice to meet you, Iwaizumi-kun,” Manager-kun grasped his hand in his own, and held it for a moment. “My name’s (L/n) (Y/n).”

He, (Y/n), flashed a small, friendly smile, and Iwaizumi was taken. With the way (Y/n) held his hand so tenderly, he could probably faint. He’d rather die than let go. It was so warm, his hands were so warm. God, he felt so soft inside.

“...Y’know, if you aren't feeling well, I can take you to the nurse’s office-”

“No-! It’s-it’s fine! I’m fine!” Iwaizumi sputtered, and he silently whined when (Y/n) pulled his hand back. He stepped back, and gave a small wave.

“That’s good, Iwaizumi-kun. Well, I just wanted to introduce myself to everyone. See you later, Matsukawa-kun. Iwaizumi-kun.” (Y/n) smiled again, and left to introduce himself to another teammate. Once (Y/n) was out of earshot, Matsukawa erupted into a fit of cackles.

“Pfft-ahahahahaha! Dude! Y-you-! Ahahahaha! You need to chill man! At this point everyone’s gonna know you went all-“ Mattsun mimicked Iwaizumi’s wide-eyed expression, bringing his hands together and pretending he was a moe schoolgirl. “Kyaaah! (L/n)-senpai is soooo handsome!”

“SHUUUUUT UPPPPPP!” Iwaizumi started kicking at Matsukawa’s shins and hitting his back, trying to silence his cackles and hope (Y/n) didn’t hear that. Or see the huge red blush on his cheeks.

Oikawa side-eyed Iwaizumi and Matsukawa from the net pole. His hands were still moving on setting up the net for practice, but his eyes were examining the two fellow third years roughhousing with each other. More specifically, the red that engulfed Iwaizumi’s face. Oikawa turned his attention back to the pole.

——

‘Just do it!’

Those three words played on repeat in Iwaizumi’s mind for the past 2 weeks. And they seemed to get louder when Iwaizumi arrived to practice.

‘Just do it, Hajime!’

‘No!’ Iwaizumi thought back to himself, watching as (Y/n) greeted everyone who came through the club room door. He was standing outside, holding a box with supplies stuffed in it. Iwaizumi dreadfully neared the club room.

‘Do it! Now!’

‘No! Fuck no!’

“Ah! Hello again, Iwaizumi-kun-“

“No!” Iwaizumi blurted out. He was quick to cover his mouth, but the look of confusion that knitted (Y/n’s) face was enough to tell he had heard Iwaizumi loud and clear.

“Uh. I mean. Good mor-uh good afternoon, (L/n). Sorry bout’ that.” Iwaizumi trudged into the club room as nonchalantly as he could. But once the door closed, he slumped down to his knees.

“Something wrong, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa mused, slipping on his blue practice shirt over his head. “You look like shit.”

“Y-you’re one to talk, Shittykawa! Go die!”

“Uuu! How mean! Mean Iwa-chan!”

“Yeah yeah.” Iwaizumi hastily slipped into his practice clothes. Oikawa watched his face closely. It was redder than usual.

“Hey, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi looked up from his knee pads, halting temporarily as he threaded them through his leg. “Mm?”

Oikawa opened his mouth, then glanced to the door where (Y/n) was standing outside of. Not yet. He didn’t have enough evidence yet.

“Never mind.” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head cutely.

——

Iwaizumi slumped down on the steps of the gym, heaving like he ran 13 miles. Well, he did. He watched as everyone came trickling back, Oikawa yelling praise as they all collapsed in front of the gym. Training runs across the block were tough. Especially after an exhausting practice match against each other.

“Good job, everyone!” Oikawa clasped his hands together. “Get some water, go rest, do whatever! We’re gonna do some serving and receiving practices, then we can take a break!”

The tuckered-out team choursed out a “Yessir!” before scattering about and doing their own things. Iwaizumi let his head loll back onto the concrete steps he was sitting on, closing his eyes and catching his unsteady breath.

“Iwaizumi-kun!”

Iwaizumi jolted up harshly, a blush adorning his features as his eyes snapped open. (Y/n) looked down at him with a small white towel in his hand and a water bottle in the other.

“I figured you needed some water or something so-I got you some stuff-!” (Y/n) promptly set the things down on Iwaizumi’s lap, though he’s not sure he noticed with the way he was staring at him so...strangely. Huh, that’s been happening for a while now.

Iwaizumi’s dazed look suddenly dissipated, his consciousness coming back to his eyes as he fumbled for the items slipping from his lap.

“Oh! Thank you...dude…! You’re…you’re...cool...f-for that…!”

Iwaizumi shot finger guns at his (Y/n). His crush. Fucking finger guns. He wouldn’t mind if he took his finger guns and shoved it so far up his a-

“It’s no problem!” (Y/n) shot finger guns back, before flexing an arm and patting his bicep. “It’s what a manager is for! Makin’ sure you boys are alright.”

“I’m gonna go fill up some more water bottles...l stopped and filled one up for you first because you looked thirsty…”

(Y/n) ran off. “See you!” He called from a distance, before disappearing from sight. Iwaizumi waved back with a blank expression on his face.

His legs felt like jelly. Not only because he ran 13 miles non-stop, but because of how whipped he became for manager-kun (Y/n) in the span of only a week or two.

Oikawa hummed to himself knowingly, watching Iwaizumi slump back onto the concrete steps with a hand in his heart.

——

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan!”

“No! No! No!”

“But why?!” Oikawa exasperatedly yelled, dramatically blocking the door leading outside the club room. It was just him, Iwa-chan, Mattsun, and Makki. Makki and Mattsun sat on the floor of the club room like they were expecting Iwaizumi to come in, and from the way they didn’t try to stop Oikawa from blocking the door, they knew the same things he did.

“Let me out shithead!” Iwaizumi clawed at Oikawa’s arms. Oikawa, as twinkish and childish as he seems, was actually stronger than he looked.

Eventually, Iwaizumi stepped back to take a breather. Matsukawa and Hanamaki took that as their chance to secure him, as Hanamaki grabbed Iwaizumi by the torso and wrapped his whole body around him.

He held him as secure as he could while he thrashed around, waiting till Matsukawa hurriedly set up a foldable chair and brought out some rope. Hanamaki dragged Iwaizumi to the chair, ignoring his pleads of “Let me go!” or “Y’all will pay for this-I swear!” As he forcefully sat him down.

He held his hands to the back of the chair as Matsukawa tied him up as quick as he could.

“Oi! What the fuck!” Iwaizumi kicked at Matsukawa as he circled him with the rope.

“It’s for your own good, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa piped up from his spot blocking the door. He didn’t want to move from the door until Iwaizumi was fully immobilized, just in case he tried to run for it.

“Like hell it is-ack!” Matsukawa tightened the rope. “Ease up, will you! God damn!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Matsukawa, in fact, did not ease up. He tied the rope into multiple tight knots, making it virtually impossible to somehow slip out of them. Iwaizumi squirmed around in his restraints as the chair was rotated facing away from the door, and towards Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

Oikawa sighed triumphantly, and backed away from the door. He clasped his hands together.

“So nice of you to finally join our discussion, Iwa-chan.”

“Literally suck my dick then go practice receives on a nearby building and fall to your death.”

Oikawa feigned offense to Iwaizumi’s words. Hanamaki chuckled, while Matsukawa shut Iwaizumi up by tugging at the rope’s end he was holding in his hands.

“Isn’t this illegal? Like-somewhere in the world?”

“It isn’t right now~” Oikawa sung, before becoming laughably serious. “Now! We need some answers!”

“More like you couldn’t contain your curiosity or ask Iwaizumi like a normal person.”

“Makki! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Oikawa blurbed, before coughing and regaining his cool integrator vibe. “Anyways!” Oikawa snapped harshly at Iwaizumi.

“You! Have a! Crush! On Manager-chan!”

Iwaizumi choked on his own spit. He turned away dumbly, with a coy look on his face.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb! We all see the looks you give him! ‘Fess up, Iwa-chan! You’re absolutely totally whipped for (Y/n)-chan!”

Iwaizumi stiffened. “Since when were you two on a first name basis-!”

“See?! You got mad when I called (L/n)-kun by his first name!”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Iwaizumi barked. He was starting to sweat now. Were these restraints always so stuffy? “I was just wondering why you called him that!”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out. “Just say you like him we’ll let you go~!”

“Never! No way in hell!”

Oikawa gasped. He pointed dramatically at Iwaizumi. “So you do admit it! You’re totally in love with Manager-kun but you don’t wanna say it!”

“Wh-?!” Iwaizumi sputtered. He kicked around in his restraints, making Matsukawa tug at the rope again. He was thrashing around so much he didn’t hear the door open. “When did I-“

“When did I ever say I had a big ass fuckin’ crush on (L/n) that it made me question my whole sexuality?! But that I couldn’t care less since he’s so...so nice and cute and-fuck!”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki paled. They seemed to be looking at something behind Iwaizumi. Oikawa was still listening intently to Iwaizumi’s confession, not noticing whatever it was those two were staring at.

“Fuck! Fuck! I wanna grab his stupid face and kiss him all over! Fuck! Why is (Y/n) so cute! I wanna call him by his first name too! I wanna hug him and do things boyfriends do too! Fuck! I’m so-“

Oikawa’s eye eventually trailed up from Iwaizumi. He locked eyes with whatever was there, then immediately copied the same panicked ‘we’re dead’ look Hanamaki and Matsukawa had. He looked back at Iwaizumi with a sweaty, pale face.

“H-hey, Iwa-chan, that’s enough-you proved your point-“

“-I’M SO FUCKING GAY FOR (Y/N) IT HURTS!”

The three boys flinched, looking behind Iwaizumi with the same look you’d give when you got caught doing something bad. Iwaizumi was breathing heavily, slouched on his chair after his whole explosion of a confession. He looked at the three third years, who weren’t even looking back at him.

“...what? This is what you guys wanted right? To admit that I like (L/n-“

“I-Iwaizumi, you might wanna shut up…” Hanamaki said, his voice trembly. Matsukawa and Oikawa nodded.

“No! Why are y’all acting so weird! You guys were all up my ass about it, and now you’re telling me to shut up?!”

Matsukawa silently spun his chair around slowly, towards the door so he could see what they were all staring at.

“Honestly, if y’all weren’t expecting me to actually…confess…t-to…yooouuu…”

Iwaizumi’s voice progressively died down as he locked eyes with (Y/n), standing by the door with the reddest shocked face he’d ever seen. It was Iwaizumi’s turn to go pale.

“Uh...I-I heard...screaming...f-from the club room and...and I wanted to see if you guys were ok...um.” (Y/n) awkwardly swung his hands around, before letting them rest behind his back. “So…”

“Do you...really wanna ‘kiss me all over’ and do boyfriend-y stuff together…? With me…?”

Iwaizumi said nothing. He started squirming madly in his binds, trying to look anywhere else but (Y/n).

“Let me out let me out let me out let me out-!“

Iwaizumi only wriggled and kicked harder when (Y/n) started approaching him.

“LETMEOUTLETMEOUTLETME-uu-?”

(Y/n) balled up his fists, resting them rigidly on Iwaizumi’s lap as he clumsily pressed a kiss to his lips. His eyes were clamped shut, unlike Iwaizumi’s, who were wide open. He felt (Y/n) push closer, to which he let his body give in and relax, closing his eyes and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Matsukawa wolf-whistled, while Hanamaki yelled things like ‘Get it, Iwaizumi!’. Oikawa smiled triumphantly once more, clapping quietly. “Bravo! Yay Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi’s eyes were half-lidded as began to pull away. He let out a shaky sigh, watching Iwaizumi take breathless breaths in. Oikawa was still clapping in the background.

“Yay! Yaaaay Iwa-chan! Iwa-chan is happy and I fulfilled my promise! (L/n) will be Manager-kun for forever!”

Iwaizumi snapped out of his dazed trance to glare at Oikawa in confusion. “Huh?”

“Ara?” Oikawa tilted his head. (Y/n) caught on, and started violently shaking his head ‘no’, as well as flailing his arms around trying to shut him up.

“You don’t know why (L/n)-kun decided to join the club?”

Iwaizumi shook his head. (Y/n) whimpered slightly and covered his face in his hands.

“I told (L/n)-kun that if he became our manager, I’d find a way to get you to fall in looove with him. But it looks like I didn’t need to do anything~”

Oikawa chuckled. “He really only joined for you, y’know. When I went up to talk to him about being a manager, his eyes lit up and he said, and I quote: ‘I’ll do it if you set me up with your friend Iwaizumi-kun and get him to fall for me-! Kyaaa! Iwaizumi-kun is so tall dark and handsom-ow!”

Oikawa was abruptly cut off when Iwaizumi kicked him in the leg, as it was the only thing he could reach while he was still tied up. Iwaizumi turned to the side with a blushy pout.

“Y-you’re embarrassing him, idiot.”

“Aww look. He’s enjoying this.” Matsukawa snickered. Hanamaki chuckled as quietly as he could, both trying not to get kicked in the leg like Oikawa did. (Y/n) sank to the floor, defeated.

“Why did you tell Iwaizumi-kun...that’s so embarrassing…” (Y/n) groaned from the ground. He was still covering his face, so he didn’t notice when Matsukawa started untying Iwaizumi, or when Iwaizumi squatted down and placed his hand on top of (Y/n’s) head.

(Y/n) made a noise of surprise as Iwaizumi patted his head with a blushy scowl.

“S’ only fair that I know… I was pretty embarrassed too when you heard all those things I said about you... Eye for an eye and shit…”

(Y/n) said nothing as Iwaizumi continued to pat his head. They said nothing for a while, before Matsukawa silently whispered to Oikawa.

“Wait, if you knew that (L/n)-kun liked Iwaizumi, why did you look so scared when he walked in? You knew they liked each other.”

“Ah.” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head, watching as Iwaizumi and (Y/n) shyly exchanged phone numbers.

“I was scared that Iwa-chan was going to murder me.”

——————

Wanna know what makes my day? When people comment on my fics 💖 especially when they reblog and go crazy in the tags or even say something IN the reblog itself 💖💖💖 makes me feel all warm inside ✨

-Mr. Mizunetzu

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. reposted from wp!

ft. tooru oikawa, tadashi yamaguchi, yu nishinoya, hajime iwaizumi + osamu miya

genre. fluff + crack

gender neutral! reader

➫ 𝓞𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝓣𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗨 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ KING. ahem- anyway the minute you arrive at the beach, the girls would SWARM him, even boys — and honestly gurl, i don't blame them, he sexy or whtvr😐

⌗ you would most likely have to drag his crazy ass away from them or he'll probably shoo them away with his charm while he carries on with you

⌗ y'all would honestly both be jealous, cuz he's got fans all over him and then everyone just starts staring at you — so oikawa might yk.. get territorial🦮

⌗ "i suggest you take your filthy eyes off my precious y/n-chan before you i knock you out myself with my amazing serve!" he'll say while pulling you to him yk like one of those really protective hugs❤️

⌗ okay at some point i feel like he'll start beefing with kageyama, meanwhile you and hinata are just standing there dumbfounded. at least, until your boyfriends drag y'all into the water and force you into a chicken fight..

⌗ BONUS — you're on the bottom for the chicken fight cuz tooru don't wanna ruin his hair smh this ass. so he ends up fighting poor shoyo🙁

➫ 𝓨𝗔𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗜 𝓣𝗔𝗗𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ feel like yams would be chilling with a snow cone while watching everyone from a distance at first cuz he feels a lil insecure and nervous since you're around and all🧎

⌗ well — that is until you drag him off the beach chair to be your partner for beach volleyball against kagehina ;)

⌗ "i- but y/n-chan, why not ask tsukki — he's way better than i am, i promise..!"

⌗ babes. you literally want him, why ain't he picking up the hint😭

⌗ in that case, you needa reassure him like 24/7, so be ready for that — but like it's ok cuz he's really cute and blushy when you give him words of affirmation ( tbh could be his love language too chile ). also give him lots of hugs too!! he needs them♡︎

➫ 𝓝𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗬𝗔 𝓨𝗨 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ um chile prepare your ass cuz this boy is picking up babes and in this context that means you, babes.

⌗ GARIGARIKUN FOR DAYS, this man robbed sakanoshita for you ( keishin is screaming somewhere istg )

⌗ besti would totally shower you with them, talm bout sum "as your senpai i'm supposed to take care of your wellbeing, you got it?!"

⌗ he may be a lil birb but he'll still throw your ass in the water, watch yo self😭 he'll come from behind when you least expect it too like dayum bitch no breaks AT ALL

⌗ ok after running around all day there would definitely be a bonfire and he'll just wrap his towel around you two while you cuddle and listen to bokuto's bullshit stories cuz he gets so immersed in them??? don't question him.

➫ 𝓘𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗭𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝓗𝗔𝗝𝗜𝗠𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ umm this man ended up with a blindfold and a bat trying to crack a water melon open ( and almost hit tooru.. )

⌗ he likes the beach, which is also why he chose to go to cali but anyways he was happy you asked to go with him when he said he'd be going with his team, so y'all vibin

⌗ your day is not too lazy but not crazy either, just kinda going with the flow and spending time with one another; also food! he was so excited for the seafood istg this man was on some "listen, i skipped breakfast for this shit, we are going to eat right now no questions asked."

⌗ he's that one guy who gotta keep everybody in line at the beach in terms of sunscreen, avoiding accidents and making sure no one gets lost lol literally becomes the resident worried mom..

⌗ at the end of the day tho he takes you to look at the fireworks that go off — unless he brought some with him, and sets up a little campfire to roast marshmallows for s'mores

➫ 𝓜𝗜𝗬𝗔 𝓞𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ this man. he packed lunches for you and the rest of his team istg y'all were eating so good BUT y'all ran out of food fast😐 which leaves no choice but to buy more ofc ( it was planned istg ), so another fellow food enjoyer who wanted to try that good ass seafood

⌗ kinda on the lazier side, he put sunscreen on in the first few minutes there and plopped down to get a tan chile; naturally, you had to get his ass outta that chair

⌗ so you, with the help of his crazy ass twin, filled two buckets of water and dumped it ALL OVER HIM ( knowing damn well this man just put sunscreen on ), and RAN

⌗ yeah suna was taking pictures, don't think he was gonna ignore this😐 so yeah anyway osamu tried to beat atsumu's ass and as for you, oh besti, you weren't allowed to eat😪 THAT MAN WAS LITERALLY THE SOUP NAZI FROM SEINFELD "no food for you!"

⌗ but he got over it quick since he isn't one to hold grudges for long, and just laid with you in his arms under the stars later that night while you shared a twin coned ice cream together cuz we love that

notes. pls send me asks, rules are down below for what and who can be requested!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[bangtanpromptsfics]

moonflower.

dialogue prompt #6: “It's 3 o'clock in the morning”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationships, fluff

word count: 1,550

warnings: making out

summary: a 3am walk in the city with your boyfriend

a/n: got this inspiration from an instagram reel and I wanted to transfer that entire feel into this one shot. hope you guys enjoyy and please drop feedbacks it really boosts motivation!! p.s as soon as I completed this, butter official teaser was released SOOOO EXCITED!!!

masterlist

“It's 3 o'clock in the morning”, you take a breath in and resume kissing him, hands tangling in the locks at his nape.

“I know”, he rasps, pulling back to bring your foreheads together, taking a moment to immerse the image of your swollen lips and cold skin of your face “It'll be fun baby”.

You don't know who exactly started kissing. Jungkook came back from his night shift not long ago and he expected you to be asleep. But he was beyond happy to catch you peacefully listening to music and waiting for him, paying attention to arbitrary details of the city still alive below. What began as a welcome kiss soon turned into a brief makeout-session, the first press of his lips against yours truly reminding how much you missed Jungkook throughout the day.

And during small breaks of catching each other's breath, he suggested for a night walk, much like a date since he had been too busy this week.

“Okay”, you huff, still feeling your chest squeezing together to get the normal breathing rate. A smile tugs at his lips and with one final smooch he leaves you to change your clothes into something safe enough for walking through the cold night.

Maybe it's because you had been with Jungkook for so long that you basically adapted a lot of his fashion sense and little habits. When you step out of your small shared apartment, you both look like members of a punk band, all black and leather.

Jungkook smiles down at you, remembering how much you have changed, it felt like you grew bored of colors as well, much of your aesthetics going monochrome at this point. There was a time Jungkook even went worried about it, thinking you were somehow adjusting to him. But you reassured him that he was all the color in your life you needed.

Jungkook interlocks fingers with you, squeezing palms together as he leads the way down stairs.

“Where are we going exactly?”, you ask, an obvious curiosity he hasn't clarified yet.

“I don't know really. We'll figure that out”.

He always had a way with words which made you warm and curious at the same time. You just smile in return and wrap your hands around his leather clad arms and walk along.

You liked this. Dates with no particular destination to be in. Just strolling till your legs are tired, eating street food, getting coffee together or studying at the public library because your apartment is located at a not so silent heart of the city.

And you liked Jungkook very much too. It sometimes feels like lopsided that it demands to overflow from underneath your skin, and sometimes when you are making love to him or cuddling his head close to your chest, you believe he feels it too.

It hits you all of a sudden that you never shared those three words. Never ever uttered them in this two years of relationship and you question them now. Totally random of a realisation just like the day you woke up in a cold sweat accepting to self that you have to confess to Jungkook.

The first place you stop by is a heavily packed food truck selling korean food. It's a usually visited one so Jungkook ask for the customary meal, fire noodles. His favorite of street foods not because there wasn't anything better, he just adored your blush flushed face when you are done.

“Babe?”, he tears open the ketchup and squeezes the content with his chopsticks while watching you, “you good?”.

Apparently you had spaced out, still fueling on the thread of thoughts from earlier. You ground yourself to the present in a jolt, “I'm alright”. You give him a nervous smile.

Jungkook pulls his chair close to yours so that your arms and knees are touching, your skin growing hot despite not touching your noodles yet.

“What are you thinking about hm?”, he demands to know, but not intimidating you more than the point. He busies his hands mixing the ketchup into your noodles instead.

“I love you Jungkook”, you blurt, eyes planted on a random spot on the ground waiting for an outcome.

“And you realized that now baby?”, he chuckles, watching you all shy. He places his noodles from his lap to the table in front to fully face your direction.

“I love you too baby, so much. And I've said that so many times before, when you are sleeping, or when you were not listening. I think I was not as brave as you”, he confesses.

Your chest swells in warmth knowing he had always told you this. You peck his nose and dig into the food, finally able to feel the hunger settling down.

Content with the late night meal, you begin to stroll again after Jungkook laughs and cups your flushed red face. You always hated spicy food as a child but then this is another one of those quirks you caught up being Jungkook’s girlfriend.

“Where do you wanna go baby”, he asks, feeling lost of a trajectory for the date and now you are equally lost too, dwelled in the fact that he will lead the night.

“I don't know”, you state and at the sight of a specific place you continue, “wanna get some drinks?”.

Jungkook immediately giggles, “We both know you lose your mind over half a glass of rum love”.

You knit your brows together for a pout, “Well then you can carry me back home can't you? That would be romantic”, you press yourself to him for no apparent reason.

“Carry you all the way home?”, he muses, holding your whining head softly on his palms while pecking your forehead.

“C’mon Koo then why do you workout for three hours all day? Make some use of your muscle”

“Oh I make plenty use of these muscles and you know it”, he teases back and you smack his arms in response.

After a few very cliche comebacks you both agree to drink the night away. Good thing that Jungkook had a good tolerance to alcohol among you two. Carrying his drunk body single handedly for a smaller human like you would be a tedious task. The math was correct here, and so you start slurping your glass of whatever cheap whiskey they had.

You were enjoying all of this, truly to the core and to the point that you swore there is nothing better to life than this. But Jungkook always felt otherwise.

You see, you are not a rich couple. Just normal millenials who go to college supported with scholarships and debts to pay, several part time jobs and a very low key life where you prioritise your expenses and plan finance together. A couple who has not went on classy restaurant dates in glittery tight fitting dress, or even a sundress and expensive suits. He always wonders about the things that could make you happier and maybe one day he can afford that Italian restaurant you once said is really nice because your sister was proposed by her husband there. You'll look so beautiful in a dress and he can't wait to allure on that.

“Koo?”, you slur, already feeling consciousness leaving your body, “What are you thinking about now hmm?”

He smiles faintly at you swirling his drink and bringing it to his lips to think upon the answer a bit.

“Nothing babe. You look so beautiful right now”, he says.

And immediately you search for a reflecting surface to check yourself out, and that's because you're drunk. Your more sober self usually ends up processing a lot of butterflies at the pit of your tummy.

“I am!?”, you beam, finally able to see a very blurred something of your bummed out face with hair falling over and maybe there's even a little dried drool at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah”, he giggles, scooping you up in his arms for a tight hug, “Let's get home shall we?”

“Carry me pwese”

“C’mon love”, he helps you climb on his back for a piggyback ride, “I'll carry you”.

You tug your limbs a little tighter around Jungkook, he pats under your thigh to loosen up so he can walk. He listens to random mumbles you are whispering to him and he smiles occasionally, carefully paying attention to everything.

“I love you so much sometimes I don't know what to do with myself”, you say and Jungkook stops dead in his track to process the words a bit.

His skin turns red which you can't see and probably you wouldn't mutter such things on your sobering. And he is glad. Glad to know that you are content with what it is. His mind stirs around, his own set of booze blazing the thought further.

“Why did you stop Koo? You tired? Should I carry you?”

“You love me that much?”, he asks, completely dodging your questions.

“Yes. So much”, you kiss his cheeks, pressing down harder then usual to prove your point.

He is convinced you are the one who has a way with the words. You say things which brings him to his knees and you remain so oblivious to it.

“Let's get you home”, he states through a smile.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

[draculeo]

As a muslim Iraqi American with a significant tumblr following, I feel as though I should let it be known exactly where I stand when it comes to Riordan’s statement about Samirah. I have copied and pasted it down below and my reaction to it will be written down below. This will be the first time I have read it. If you want to engage with me or tell me that I’m wrong, I expect you to be a muslim, hijabi, Iraqi American, and from Baghdad. If you are not, I suggest you sit down and keep quiet because you are not the authority on the way I should be represented.

Like many of my characters, Samirah was inspired by former students of mine. Over the course of my middle school teaching career, I worked with dozens of Muslim students and their families, representing the expanse of the Muslim world and both Shia and Sunni traditions. One of my most poignant memories about the September 11, 2001, attack of the World Trade Center was when a Muslima student burst into tears when she heard the news – not just because it was horrific, but also because she knew what it meant for her, her family, her faith. She had unwillingly become an ambassador to everyone she knew who, would have questions about how this attack happened and why the perpetrators called themselves “Muslim.” Her life had just become exponentially more difficult because of factors completely beyond her control. It was not right. It was not fair. And I wasn’t sure how to comfort or support her.

Starting off your statement with one of the most traumatic events in history for muslim Americans is already one of the most predictably bad moves he could pull. By starting off this way, you are acknowledging the fact that a) this t*rrorist attack is still the first thing you think of when you think of muslims and b) that those muslim students who you had prior to 9/11 occupied so little space in your mind that it took a national disaster for you to start to even try to empathize with them.

During the following years, I tried to be especially attuned to the needs of my Muslim students. I dealt with 9/11 the same way I deal with most things: by reading and learning more. When I taught world religions in social studies, I would talk to my Muslim students about Islam to make sure I was representing their experience correctly. They taught me quite a bit, which eventually contributed to my depiction of Samirah al-Abbas. As always, though, where I have made mistakes in my understanding, those mistakes are wholly on me.

As always, you have chosen to use “I based this character off my students” in order to justify the way they are written. News flash: you taught middle school children. Children who are already scrutinized and alienated and desperate to fit in. Of course their words shouldn’t be enough for you to decide you are representing them correctly, because they are still coming to terms with their identities and they are doing this in an environment where they are desperate to find the approval of white Americans. I know that as a child I would often tweak the way I explained my culture and religion to my teachers in order to gain their approval and avoid ruffling any feathers. They told you what they thought you’d want to hear because you are their teacher and hold a position of power over them and they both want your approval and want to avoid saying the wrong thing and having that hang over their heads every time they enter your classroom.

What did I read for research? I have read five different English interpretations of the Qur’an. (I understand the message is inseparable from the original Arabic, so it cannot be considered ‘translated’). I have read the entirety of the Sahih Bukhari and Sahih Muslim hadith collections. I’ve read three biographies of Prophet Muhammed (peace be upon him) and well over a dozen books about the history of Islam and modern Islam. I took a six-week course in Arabic. (I was not very good at it, but I found it fascinating). I fasted the month of Ramadan in solidarity with my students. I even memorized some of the surahs in Arabic because I found the poetry beautiful. (They’re a little rusty now, I’ll admit, but I can still recite al-Fātihah from memory.) I also read some anti-Islamic screeds written in the aftermath of 9/11 so I would understand what those commenters were saying about the religion, and indirectly, about my students. I get mad when people attack my students.

And yet here you are actively avoiding the criticism from those of us who could very well have been the children sitting in your classroom. 

The Quran is so deep and complex that its meanings are still being discovered to this day. Yes, reading these old scripts is a must for writing muslim characters, but you cannot claim to understand them without also holding active discussions with current scholars on how the Quran’s teachings apply today.

When preparing to write Samirah’s background, I drew on all of this, but also read many stories on Iraqi traditions and customs in particular and the experiences of immigrant families who came to the U.S. I figured out how Samirah’s history would intertwine with the Norse world through the medieval writer Ahmad ibn Fadhlan, her distant ancestor and one of the first outsiders to describe the Vikings in writing.  I knew Samirah would be a ferocious brave fighter who always stood for what was right. She would be an excellent student who had dreams of being an aviator. She would have a complicated personal situation to wrestle with, in that she’s a practicing Muslim who finds out Valhalla is a real place. Odin and Thor and Loki are still around. How do you reconcile that with your faith? Not only that, but her mom had a romance with Loki, who is her dad. Yikes.

First of all, writing this paragraph in the same tone you use to emulate a 12 year old is already disrespectful. “Yikes” is correct. You have committed serious transgressions and can’t even commit to acting serious and writing like the almost 60 year old man that you are. Tone tells the reader a lot, and your tone is telling me that you are explaining your mistakes the same way you tell your little stories: childishly and jokingly. 

Stories are not enough. They are not and never will be. Stories cannot even begin to pierce the rich culture and history and customs of Iraq. Iraq itself is not even homogenous enough for you to rely on these “Iraqi” stories. Someone’s story from Najaf is completely unique from someone from Baghdad or Nasriyyah or Basrah or Mosul. Add that to the fact that these stories are written with a certain audience in mind and you realize that there’s no way they can tell the whole story because at their core they are catering to a specific audience.

Yes, those are good, but they are meaningless without you consulting an actual Baghdadi and asking specific questions. You made conclusions and assumptions based on these stories when the obvious way to go was to consult someone from Baghdad every step of the writing process. Instead, you chose to trust the conclusions that you (a white man) drew from a handful of stories. Who are you to convey a muslim’s internal struggle when you did not even do the bare minimum and have an actual muslim read over your words?

Thankfully, the feedback from Muslim readers over the years to Samirah al-Abbas has been overwhelmingly positive. I have gotten so many letters and messages online from young fans, talking about how much it meant to them to see a hijabi character portrayed in a positive light in a ‘mainstream’ novel.

Yeah. Because we’re desperate, and half of them are children still developing their sense of self and critical reading skills. A starving man will thank you for moldy bread but that does not negate the mold. 

Some readers had questions, sure! The big mistake I will totally own, and which I have apologized for many times, was my statement that during the fasting hours of Ramadan, bathing (i.e. total immersion in water) was to be avoided. This was advice I had read on a Shia website when I myself was preparing to fast Ramadan. It is advice I followed for the entire month. Whoops! The intent behind that advice, as I understood it, was that if you totally immersed yourself during daylight hours, you might inadvertently get some water between your lips and invalidate your fast. But, as I have since learned, that was simply one teacher’s personal opinion, not a widespread practice. We have corrected this detail (which involved the deletion of one line) in future editions, but as I mentioned in my last post, you will still find it in copies since the vast majority of books are from the first printing.

This is actually really embarrassing for you and speaks to your lack of research and reading comprehension. It is true that for shia, immersion breaks one’s fast. If you had bothered to actually ask questions and use common sense, you would realize that this is referring to actions like swimming, where one’s whole body is underwater, rather than bathing. Did you not question the fact that the same religion that encourages the cleansing of oneself five times a day banned bathing during the holiest month? Yes, it was one teacher’s opinion, but you literally did not even take the time to fully understand that opinion before chucking it into your book.

Another question was about Samirah’s wearing of the hijab. To some readers, she seemed cavalier about when she would take it off and how she would wear it. It’s not my place to be prescriptive about proper hijab-wearing. As any Muslim knows, the custom and practice varies greatly from one country to another, and from one individual to another. I can, however, describe what I have seen in the U.S., and Samirah’s wearing of the hijab reflects the practice of some of my own students, so it seemed to be within the realm of reason for a third-generation Iraqi-American Muslima. Samirah would wear hijab most of the time — in public, at school, at mosque. She would probably but not always wear it in Valhalla, as she views this as her home, and the fallen warriors as her own kin. This is described in the Magnus Chase books. I also admit I just loved the idea of a Muslima whose hijab is a magic item that can camouflage her in times of need.

Before I get into this paragraph, Samirah is second generation. Her grandparents immigrated from Iraq. Her mother was first gen.

Once again, you turn to what you have seen from your students, who are literal children. They are in middle school while Samirah is in high school, so they are very obviously at different stages of development, both emotional and religious. If you had bothered to talk to adults who had gone through these stages, you would understand that often times young girls have stages where they “practice” hijab or wear it “part time”, very often in middle school. However, both her age and the way in which you described Samirah lead the reader to believe that she is a “full timer,” so you playing willy nilly with her scarf as a white man is gross.

For someone who claims to have read all of these religious texts, it’s funny that you choose to overlook the fact that “kin” is very specifically described. Muslims do not go around deciding who they consider “kin” or “family” to take off their hijab in front of. There is no excuse for including this in her character, especially since you claim to have carefully read the Quran and ahadith.

You have no place to “just love” any magical extension of the hijab until you approach it with respect. Point blank period. Especially when you have ascribed it a magical property that justifies her taking it on and off like it’s no big deal, especially when current media portrayals of hijab almost always revolve around it being removed. You are adding to the harmful portrayal and using your “fun little magic camoflauge” to excuse it.

As for her betrothal to Amir Fadhlan, only recently have I gotten any questions about this. My understanding from my readings, and from what I have been told by Muslims I know, is that arranged marriages are still quite common in many Muslim countries (not just Muslim countries, of course) and that these matches are sometimes negotiated by the families when the bride-to-be and groom-to-be are quite young. Prior to writing Magnus Chase, one of the complaints I often heard or read from Muslims is how Westerners tend to judge this custom and look down on it because it does not accord with Western ideas. Of course, arranged marriages carry the potential for abuse, especially if there is an age differential or the woman is not consulted. Child marriages are a huge problem. The arrangement of betrothals years in advance of the marriage, however, is an ancient custom in many cultures, and those people I know who were married in this way have shared with me how glad they were to have done it and how they believe the practice is unfairly villainized. My idea with Samirah was to flip the stereotype of the terrible abusive arranged match on its head, and show how it was possible that two people who actually love each other dearly might find happiness through this traditional custom when they have families that listen to their concerns and honor their wishes, and want them to be happy. Amir and Samirah are very distant cousins, yes. This, too, is hardly unusual in many cultures. They will not actually marry until they are both adults. But they have been betrothed since childhood, and respect and love each other. If that were not the case, my sense is that Samirah would only have to say something to her grandparents, and the match would be cancelled. Again, most of the comments I have received from Muslim readers have been to thank me for presenting traditional customs in a positive rather than a negative light, not judging them by Western standards. In no way do I condone child marriage, and that (to my mind) is not anywhere implied in the Magnus Chase books.

I simply can’t even begin to explain everything that is wrong with this paragraph. Here is a good post about how her getting engaged at 12 is absolutely wrong religiously and would not happen. Add that on to the fact that Samirah herself is second-generation (although Riordan calls her third generation in this post) and this practice isn’t super common even in first generation people (and for those that it DOES apply to, it is when they are old enough to be married and not literal children). 

As a white man you can’t flip the stereotype. You can’t. Even with tons of research you cannot assume the authority to “flip” a stereotype that does not affect you because you will never come close to truly understanding it inside and out. Instead of flipping a stereotype, Rick fed into it and provided more fodder to the flames and added on to it to make it even worse.

I would be uncomfortable with a white author writing about arranged marriages in brown tradition no matter the context, but for him to offhandedly include it in a children’s book where it is badly explained and barely touched on is inexcusable. Your target audience is children who will no doubt overlook your clumsy attempt at flipping stereotypes.

It does not matter what your mind thinks you are implying. Rick Riordan is not your target audience, children are. So you cannot brush this away by stating that you did not see the harm done by your writing. You are almost 60 years old. Maybe you can read in between your lines, but I guarantee your target audience largely cannot.

Finally, recently someone on Twitter decided to screenshot a passage out-of-context from Ship of the Deadwhere Magnus hears Samirah use the phrase “Allahu Akbar,” and the only context he has ever heard it in before was in news reports when some Western reporter would be talking about a terrorist attack. Here is the passage in full:

Samirah: “My dad may have power over me because he’s my dad. But he’s not the biggest power. Allahu akbar.”

I knew that term, but I’d never heard Sam use it before. I’ll admit it gave me an instinctive jolt in the gut. The news media loved to talk about how terrorists would say that right before they did something horrible and blew people up. I wasn’t going to mention that to Sam. I imagined she was painfully aware.

She couldn’t walk the streets of Boston in her hijab most days without somebody screaming at her to go home, and (if she was in a bad mood) she’d scream back, “I’m from Dorchester!”

“Yeah,” I said. “That means God is great, right?”

Sam shook her head. “That’s a slightly inaccurate translation. It means God is greater.”

“Than what?”

“Everything. The whole point of saying it is to remind yourself that God is greater than whatever you are facing—your fears, your problems, your thirst, your hunger, your anger.

337-338

To me, this is Samirah educating Magnus, and through him the readers, about what this phrase actually means and the religious significance it carries. I think the expression is beautiful and profound. However, like a lot of Americans, Magnus has grown up only hearing about it in a negative context from the news. For him to think: “I had never heard that phrase, and it carried absolutely no negative connotations!” would be silly and unrealistic. This is a teachable moment between two characters, two friends who respect each other despite how different they are. Magnus learns something beautiful and true about Samirah’s religion, and hopefully so do the readers. If that strikes you as Islamophobic in its full context, or if Samirah seems like a hurtful stereotype . . . all I can say is I strongly disagree.

I will give you some credit here in that I mostly agree with this scene. The phrase does carry negative connotations with many white people and I do not fault you for explaining it the way you did. However, don’t try to sneak in that last sentence like we won’t notice. You have no place to decide whether or not Samirah’s character as a whole is harmful and stereotypical. 

It is 2 am and that is all I have the willpower to address. This is messy and this is long and this is not well worded, but this had to be addressed. I do not speak for every muslim, both world wide and within this online community, but these were my raw reactions to his statement. I have been working on and will continue to work on a masterpost of Samirah Al-Abbas as I work through the books, but for now, let it be known that Riordan has bastardized my identity and continues to excuse himself and profit off of enforcing harmful stereotypes. Good night.

[anystalker707]

So pretty, all mine

Pairing: Frank x [enby, afab] Reader Word count: ~ 2 300 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's a boring day after coming back home from a tour and (y/n) decides to ask Frank if they can peg him - Frank accepts, thinking it's nothing much, just to find out he's so wrong. Kind of content: Reader is very loving <3 / Dirty talk / Praising / Pegging / Subspace

Requested by anon

Being home after so long feels weird, even if it’s far from the first tour we have been on since the start of the band, feeling like in a bus when sitting down for too long or having this feeling something is missing by the time we were supposed to head back to the bus. Sometimes I remember the first times we would come back time from the Bullets and Revenge tours, all tired and like trash, but motivated to write new music.

We’re probably having a longer pause now, on the other hand, considering how long The Black Parade Tour was, just to rest and let things settle down for a bit until the oncoming tour with Linkin Park.

A sigh escapes my lips as I look around the kitchen, hands on my hips. I should do something. Maybe eat something. Fuck, no, I just ate something. Okay, I guess I should practice, then… but that’s not what the pause is supposed to be for. Distracting myself will do, I guess, so watching TV it is.

Sitting down on the couch and turning on the TV makes me feel useless at first, but again, it’s the result of being pulled away from the tour’s routine. Even if slowly, it’ll pass.

My attention averts away from the TV’s screen at hearing footsteps before Frank’s walking into the kitchen, only in a shirt and boxers, standing on his tiptoes as digging through the cabinets in search for something. His shirt falls a few inches below his hips, but rides up with him reaching the cabinets, exposing his ass. Nice ass.

He turns around with Oreos in hands, and raises an eyebrow at me. “Want one?” he asks through the Oreo hanging from his mouth.

“No, but come here.” I make a motion, adjusting my position on the couch – he shrugs, but does so anyway, taking the bag of cookies in hand, and he’s about to sit down by my side when I pull him to my lap instead. He pauses, slowly relaxing against me, eventually continuing to eat; he holds up an Oreo, a bitten one, eyes averting down. I smile. “No, thanks.” I press a kiss to his cheek, hugging him close.

A hum comes from Frank in response and he sighs softly, shifting lightly to make himself comfortable until his head is resting against my shoulder. “What are you watching?”

“I literally just sat down.” My hand slides down to his thigh, my thumb running across the skin and tracing the tattoo there. “Y’know,” I mutter in his ear, tightening my grip around him, “I think we could do something.”

“Something?” Frank asks, sounding halfly immersed in whatever is playing on the TV.

“Yeah.” I take a hold of his jaw, making him face me – he pouts, which makes me smile, brushing our noses together affectionately. “I was wondering if I could peg you. Can I?”

“Fuck, yeah,” he says after a moment, “let’s go.”

Now, that was easy. I raise an eyebrow at him, he just shrugs. Does he– Well, of course he does know what pegging means, he’s not that dumb, I just didn’t know he would react so careless to it. Not bad, so everything is fine.

“Good.” I peck his lips and trail down to his jaw, eventually reaching his neck when he tilts his head to the side, sighing pleased, just to let out a quiet gasp once my teeth sink into a spot a few inches under his ear. Great. “Go upstairs, then.” I slap his thigh softly, chuckling at the groan coming from him.

Frank stands up and heads to the kitchen to leave the rest of the Oreos on the counter before he can go upstairs, but not without looking back at me with a glare – seeing that I’m still smiling maybe gets him more annoyed, continuing his way with heavy and low steps. Okay, gives me more time to watch the back of his thighs.

I’m finally heading upstairs after turning the TV off and putting the Oreos back inside the cabinet, walking into the bedroom to find Frank kneeling down in the middle of the bed, looking at the nothing, hands over his thighs.

The way he accepted it so easily is still in my mind when my shirt meets the ground, but whatever, not like we can’t stop at any moment or anything.

The mattress sinks under my knees as I move towards Frank until settling down, hands cupping his face before our lips are pressed together in a sweet kiss that quickly gains a familiar urgency, with Frank’s hands wrapped around my wrists, pulling me closer to deepen the kiss, eventually pulling me over him. Our lips separate for only seconds among all the shifting, adjusting our positions until Frank’s on his back and I’m over him, a forearm on the mattress to hold myself up, a knee between his spread legs.

“Hm, (y/n),” he mutters against my lips, hands on the sides of my neck, trailing to my hair.

“‘M here, baby.” My lips run along his jaw, soon pressing soft kisses down his neck, peppered in between nibbles and sucking which have his breath quickening, shallow.

My hands drop to Frank’s waist, slipping under his shirt, rubbing circles into the skin. A shaky breath escapes his nose when I reach a spot near his collarbones and he’s tugging on my hair, unable to contain a sound when my thumbs poke under the waistband of his boxers.

Frank’s grasp almost doesn’t let me pull away, only doing so when he notices my intention of getting rid of his shirt, followed by his boxers, revealing his half hard cock, but he seems to have other priorities, pushing his hips up into the air in a useless seek for friction. A grin tugs on my lips at it and I can’t help but to take a grip of his hips, leaving a kiss down his happy trail.

Despite a groan of frustration coming from Frank, I still pull away to get rid of my own clothes, keeping an eye on him to swat his hand away just in time so he won’t touch himself.

“Fuck you!” Frank pouts.

“Behave!” I chuckle, slapping his thigh – he lets out what sounds like a moan at it, jumping.

I can’t really make out Frank’s words, incoherent grumbling; they immediately stop when I’m sitting between his legs with the lube in hand after reaching for it in the bedside table.

“You fine?” I put the tube away to spread the lube on my fingers.

“Of course!” He nods exigently, squirmish.

“Aw, you’re not being a good boy!” I furrow my eyebrows and need to suppress a smile at how quickly Frank’s cheeks turn red as he looks away, what seems like pure frustration being opposed by how hard he’s getting through time. “Just tell me if you need me to stop or something, okay?” I drop the teasing, pressing a kiss to his stomach, and can feel him physically relaxing.

“Right,” he breathes.

His hole flutters under my touch as I trace the ring of muscles, spreading the lube around it before finally pushing a finger in, slowly – he tenses up, clenching around me, but a sound is only slipping past his lips when there’s a second finger and, after a few pushes, finding his prostate is easy.

A breath hitches in Frank’s throat, making a muffled moan come from him once my fingers start pressing against his prostate, massaging the spot; his thighs quiver in poor attempts of moving his hips down against my fingers, coming to a brief stop with a third finger.

“Fuck,” he says, voice tight, but only nods when I look up to check if he’s fine.

My free hand runs up Frank’s torso, running along the skin and feeling it rise under my touch. He moans encouragingly as I start pressing kisses to his tummy, slowly going up his chest and he’s gasping when my thumb runs across his nipple experimentally, hands flying to hold onto my hair, compelling me to continue fondling it and the skin around.

“How does it feel?” I ask against his chest, mostly pressing kisses down to it. He moans in response, in a positive tone. “Use your words, hun.”

“G-Good,” he gasps, tugging at my hair softly.

“Oh, yeah? How good?” I grin, pressing down against his prostate and feeling him quiver as his hips jerk forward. “Are you my good boy, Frank? So small and pretty and cute? Look at how pathetic you are, baby. I didn’t even touch your cock, only fingered your pretty ass so far and you’re already in such a poor state.”

“I– Yeah, I am, fuck– You make me feel very good, oh my God,” he exclaims, voice unusually high. “You make me feel so good, (y/n), please don’t stop, I– Fuck.” He melts. Moans easily fill the room now, not so frequent but loud, constant, coming to an end with a weak complaint and buck of hips after I break contact completely, considering Frank was becoming dangerously tight and urgent.

“Hands and knees, hm?” I press a kiss to his thigh before breaking complete contact to reach for the box under the bed.

“Gimme a moment,” Frank sighs.

“‘M not rushing you,” I chuckle, rummaging through the box and eventually moving to slip on the strap-on and have the toy lubed up.

Something about all of this, making Frank get in such a state, having such a power, is just… amusing, in a way, and maybe I had been wasting my time and should've had this idea before. A squeal comes from him at the slap across the back of his thigh, intensifying the proud feeling in my chest as I kneel behind him, holding his hips up.

“So pretty and all mine, hm?” I mutter against the crook of his neck, my chest pressed to his back. The words are far from something I’d usually say, nonetheless, they snatch a quiet pleading sound from Frank and he doesn’t even answer properly when I ask if he’s ready. “Are you in subspace, love?” Now, what a pleasant surprise.

No answer comes from Frank and I don’t need one, after all – he doesn’t show any discomfort nor says the safe word –, so I carry on. His breath audibly hitches when I’m guiding the toy in, tensing up, so I give him his time, free arm wrapped around his torso and kisses softly pressed to his back among comforting words. When the toy finally sinks in until the base, he’s breathing heavily, head hanging low and hands clenched around the sheets.

“You’re doing so well, hun,” I hum and let my hands wander up and down his waist, soothing and trying to avert his attention away from whatever discomfort.

As a relieved sigh comes from Frank, I grip onto his hips, pulling back before pushing back in and Frank’s moans slowly start to cut through the thick atmosphere of the room with the continuous motions. The way the movements intensify eventually have the toy brushing against me, against my clit, just right to give me the friction I wasn’t even aware that I craved.

“Fuck,” Frank says with a moan, arching his back, quickly followed by a louder moan when I change the angle of the thrusts; his hips move to meet mine. There it is, then, good.

My fingers sink into Frank’s hips for more support, pulling him against me at the same time my hips jerk forward. Fucking whines come from Frank, one after the other, weak cries as his arms collapse under him and he squirms on the mattress and, fuck, how hot can he be?

“Ah,” he breathes, eyes pressed shut, “shit, that’s intense, fuck.”

Not what he thought? No wonder why he accepted so easily. I chuckle – or try to, breathlessly.

“You look so hot like this, baby,” I mutter, one of my hands falling to a space on the mattress next to him. “Didn’t know I could break you like this, huh? ‘Bet you wish I had come up with this before, don’t you? Look at you, you’re loving this!” I grin at how hopeless he becomes, knuckles white around the sheets, gasps escaping his mouths helplessly; I press a kiss to his shoulder. “‘Bet you can’t even think straight right now.” Because, fuck, I can’t. So hot. I might just come from that.

Frank’s lips are pressed together, twitching lightly, but no word ever comes from him. Instead, one of his hands slowly moves down and I slap it away the moment I notice what he wants to do.

“No, no, no!” I click my tongue, taking a hold of his wrist to pin it down to the mattress. “You can come without touching yourself, just like the good boy you are. Are you close, baby? You almost coming?” I press kisses to his shoulder, satisfied with the affirmative hum coming from him. “Gonna make you feel so good,” I mutter under my breath, moving faster, the thrusts heavy and harsher – sending pleasure ringing up my spine –, in a way it doesn’t take long until a loud moan escapes his lips and his thighs are quivering. I take a look at his face, taking in every detail, and I can feel the knot tightening in my lower stomach.

Frank’s eventually coming down from his high with weak sounds and labored breathing, legs twitching lightly with the aftershocks.

Quiet curses escape my lips under my breath while I pull away, watching him collapse to the mattress without much reaction, and get rid of the toy as fast as possible and fucking hell, I barely touch myself before I’m coming, moaning in relief with my fingers sliding against my clit. So pathetic and so good at the same time.

I lie down on the bed next to Frank, pulling into my arms to hug him lovingly, brushing the hair away from his face. He hums softly, eyes slowly opening to reveal the beautiful hazel irises as thin rings around dilated pupils for a moment. Frank says nothing, only burying his face in the crook of my neck.

[link4eva]

Kiro’s Mind’s Quest: Infatuation Play Translation Part 2 [CN]

Hey! Here’s Part 2 of Infatuation Play. Here is Part 1 if you haven’t read it yet.

Enjoy~ 💛

*Spoilers for future content below!*

[Chapter 4]

MC: It seems I’ve put too much salt in the seasoning….

MC: If it’s salty…. add more water!

Kiro: Haha. 

Kiro was amused by what I said, and he shook off a piece of beef and tasted it.

Kiro: Good to eat!

Kiro also gave me a piece, the evening light leaked in from the window, reflecting a small layer of fluff on his face.

In the steam, the spicy and delicious smell seemed to dispel the previously unremarkable smell in the house.

I took a sip of soda and brought up the topic from before. *Changed some wording*

MC: By the way, in addition to encountering the big challenge of an actor’s career, filming NG….

MC: Is there anything else that left an impression on you?

Kiro looked down and thought about it seriously.

Kiro: Does scaring a crying kid count? 

MC: Of course!

Kiro smiled when he saw the eagerness on my face to hear the story.

Kiro: This scene is also related to entering the character state.

Kiro: In order to maintain this state, I kept myself bored in the hotel room for a long time….

Kiro: Probably because of my routine, no one reminded me.

Kiro: Later, I didn’t know the exact time anymore. When I came out, I felt that I had been in the dark for a long time.

Kiro: I realized that I was a bit too immersed, so I went to buy a bottle of soda to take a break.

Kiro: Then I met a kid in the crew…. I didn’t do anything, he just saw me and then cried. 

Kiro’s voice was very low, and the hot pot gurgled.

I think of Kiro’s immersive performance on the screen, and then I dig a little deeper into what he said just now-- *Changed some wording*

It was as if he had a bitter fruit in his heart, and he desperately wanted to hide it from me. The more bitter it was, the stronger the taste.

In the end, the fruit still found its way into my heart.

I sniffed and couldn’t help joking.

MC: From another perspective, that kid got to watch a scene for free.

Kiro raised his eyes, and I continued with a smile.

MC: I want to watch the exclusive performance of the big star Kiro too!

MC: Thinking about it this way, I feel a little jealous.

I took his hand and his fingertips quivered slightly.

Kiro: Don’t you think I’m not doing well enough? As a professional actor, I shouldn’t be in this situation. 

I shook my head.

MC: Remember, you asked me before if there was anything interesting about this business trip.

MC: In fact, in the city where I was on business, there would be lively gatherings at night on the street next to the hotel.

MC: Looking down from the balcony, there are clusters of lights, and everyone sits on the steps and chats casually.

MC: When I saw it, I was thinking, “I must bring Kiro here next time. He will love the sparkling cider here.”

I looked at Kiro brightly. He seemed to be imagining the scene I described with slight waves in his eyes.

MC: I want to share with you all the good and bad, brilliant and lonely times.

MC: You can be imperfect, you can have lonely and dark moments because I will be with you. 

MC: We share each other’s lives. No matter what life it is, as long as we experience it together, it is enough.

Those blue eyes staring at me seemed to be lit by some kind of warm light for a moment, filled with soft emotions.

I paused and asked him softly.

MC: I remember that every time you acted in a play, you would bid farewell to them at the end.

MC: You said that you were lucky to participate in a period of their lives and experienced their emotions.

MC: So in the end, you have to bid farewell to the partners you have been working with….

MC: Looking forward to another time and space, they will continue their lives.

MC: Did you say goodbye this time?

Kiro looked at me and suddenly reached out and wiped the oil stains on my lips.

The boiling of the hot pot sounded and there seemed to be some fragments of emotions in his eyes that had melted silently.

He paused, turned his head and raised the bear cup on the table. He raised it in the air, the emotions in his eyes were clear and calm.

Kiro: Americano is still too bitter, I prefer to drink soda. 

Kiro: The hot pot made by Miss Chips is delicious. As long as you are with her, even the little things like walking your dog to the supermarket are worth remembering.

His gaze flickered over the neatly coded script on the sofa, and there was a sense of relief in his voice.

Kiro: What you didn’t find, I did.

Kiro: In the time and space I don’t know, you will definitely find what you want, and come back to shine on the stage again.

Kiro: Now, it’s time to say goodbye to you.

The starry sky is gentle, and the steam from the hot pot rises, almost like a response. The wind blows the curtains and the room is full of starlight. *Changed some wording*

We are both covered.

(Cut to the living room)

MC: What’s going on with Cello lately? She seems to be more irritable.

MC: Not only did she knock over the sunflower vase in the living room, but also bit her tail….

I pet Cello who was being held in Kiro’s arms and spoke tentatively.

It is said that the mood of pets will be influenced by the owner. Is Cello….? 

Kiro looked away with a guilty conscience. 

Kiro: Maybe it’s because the season makes everyone more irritable.

Kiro: [coughs] Just leave her be, save the sunflower first.

He found a new vase in the cabinet and handed it to me. I trimmed the sunflower’s branched and leaves that had been bitten by Cello.

Kiro sat cross-legged across from me and stared at me without blinking. I was a little embarrassed to be stared at.

MC: What are you looking at?

Kiro tilted his head at me and his blond hair swayed slightly. It was obviously a naughty action, but the smile in his eyes was very gentle.

Kiro: Of course I was looking at Miss Chips. 

Kiro: Looking at your actions, expressions, the flower in your hand, and…. 

Kiro’s tone was stretched out and I followed his gaze to see the light-coloured hairband on the side of my head.

The soft end of the hairband slid down my neck and onto my skin.

MC: KI-RO! 

I blushed for a moment and when I was hurriedly trying to retie my hairband, my hand was suddenly grabbed.

I looked up and under the frivolity of the sun, I didn’t know when Kiro got so close to me that I could see the creases on his lips.

His gaze fell on the end of my hair. He tucked the hairband lightly and winked at me.

Kiro: Miss Chips, let me help you.

Without waiting for my answer, he took a strand of my hair and maneuvered his hands dexterously, rubbing my earlobes with his fingertips which caused a burst of scorching heat.

The hairband is like a streamer that can be held in his hand, and he is the creator of beauty.

The mood is changing silently at this moment as we stay so close. *Changed some wording*

No matter how difficult the moments we encounter are, they will definitely be healed in the accompanying time.

After a while, Kiro held my face and looked at it with satisfaction.

Kiro: That’s it.

I reached up to touch the hairband and couldn’t help but smile. *Changed some wording*

MC: You even tied a small bow! 

Kiro: Of course, this is the exclusive mark of Kiro.

Kiro picked up the end of the hairband and looked down at me tenderly. His blue eyes were like a vast and boundless sea and I willingly indulged in it.

(Cut to morning)

The morning light was in the room and the sound of the phone vibrating awakened me from my sleep. I picked up the phone and pressed the answer button.

MC: Kiki? What’s wrong?

Kiki: Boss, the project you flew abroad to talk about has passed!

Kiki: Anna received the letter of intent last night, and the person in charge there said that he hoped the date of the contract signing could be confirmed today.

Kiki: Where are you now? Come and visit the company!

MC: Okay, I’ll be there.

I hung up and turned my head, Kiro’s sleeping face came into view.

He seems to be having a good sleep and his lips are slightly upturned, he looks particularly meek. *Changed some wording*

MC: ….

It looks like he is still a little sick. *Changed some wording*

The lack of sleep made my brain work a little slow, so I shook my head in an attempt to wake myself up a bit.

Just as I was hesitating whether to go, Kiro woke up with a hint of sleepiness in his eyes. He was startled when he saw my neatly dressed look.

Kiro: [cute sleepy voice] Is something happening at the company? 

(If you pick “No”)

Seeing Kiro’s still pale cheeks, I shook my head and smiled at him.

MC: Nothing, I was just talking to Kiki.

But Kiro looked at me and suddenly smiled.

Kiro: Miss Chips, you should go do more important things first.

Kiro: I will wait here for you to come back.

Seeing him look at me quietly, I nodded gently.

(If you pick “yes”)

I was conflicted for a moment and then nodded honestly.

MC: There is a little situation that needs to be dealt with, but….

Before I finished speaking, I saw Kiro stretch out lazily with a slight smile in his tone.

Kiro: I will wait for your return.

He looked no different from what I was familiar with. I hesitated for a moment and finally nodded gently.

[Memory Silhouette]

MC: Hahahahahaha! This episode is so funny!

I laughed so much that my cheeks hurt and I had to lean against Kiro’s arms. He opened his arms and caged me in them.

Kiro: Is the way I eat mustard so funny? 

I lifted my head and looked at him as he asked me. 

The sun was shining on us warmly through the French windows, Kiro’s milk fragrance also wrapped around the tip of my nose. I couldn’t help but squeeze his cheek with my hand.

MC: No, but I like it.

MC: Didn’t someone say that if there is a person who can keep you smiling, then he must be an important presence in your life.

MC: You make me laugh without even thinking about it, your existence turns cloudy days into sunny ones. *Changed some wording*

As if he had accepted my theory, Kiro no longer struggled with his expression about the variety show, so he clicked the button to continue playing. 

Kiro: Okay, I agree with Miss Chips. 

This variety show has Kiro as a guest appearance. When he participated in the show, he had not yet joined the cast to make a movie. The show was as bright as a little sun.

In the space between the advertisements, I quickly glanced sideways at the person next to me.

Over the past few days, I can feel his gradual relaxation.

It’s not that I’m always vigilant, telling myself that I have to be happy in front of him, but because when I’m with him, I can relax and smile.

I liked this relaxed and soft Kiro.

MC: But speaking of it, in this variety show, I see you in a way that I don’t usually see.

MC: Planting seedlings, bargaining with the owner of a small shop, and making mosquitos nests by yourself.

MC: So Kiro turned out to be a secret master of life?

MC: So when I was making homemade cranberry cupcakes, a certain superstar asked me to teach him how to beat the egg yolks?

After being questioned, Kiro gave a cheeky “um”.

Kiro: That’s because, in the cast, I need to play the image of SuperHero. This is my job. 

Kiro: But in front of Miss Chips, I can be willful and not so perfect, can’t I? *Changed some wording*

He looked at me with a smile in his eyes, like an afternoon orange soda full of refreshing taste.

MC: You said that…. I can’t refute it. 

Although I said that, I couldn’t help but laugh.

MC: But two people mixing the egg yolk batter together is always more interesting than doing it alone.

There was constant laughter on screen. I looked at Kiro who was always smiling on the screen and couldn’t help but lean into his arms.

His chin rested on my shoulder from behind and his warm breath brushed my neck.

It’s always a good time to need each other and be together. *Changed some wording*

MC: Next time, teach me how to make a mosquito net.

MC: Maybe in the future when we go on a trip, it will be useful.

Kiro: Okay, let’s make a big and beautiful mosquito net. 

MC: Huh? Why does it have to be so big?

Kiro: It can be used as an open-air tent. If you watch the stars at night, you don’t have to worry about being bitten by bugs.

I couldn’t help being amused by Kiro’s serious tone.

MC: Okay, let’s do it together.

Time is moving slowly and quietly, walking forward with a lazy pace. The lazy rest is close to the not-so-perfect Kiro.

Put together a cupcake with a honey-flavoured centre. *Changed some wording*

[Chapter 5]

When I had walked halfway towards the company, I decided to pull out my phone and call Kiki.

MC: Kiki, there are some things on my end that I can’t get away from. You can help me with the people from the other company and change the meeting to a virtual one.

MC: The contract has been sorted out, I will send it to them later. You are responsible for monitoring the online meeting.

Kiki: Mhhm, okay. Sounds good, boss. 

After temporarily solving the company’s problems, I returned to Kiro’s house.

In order to avoid disturbing Kiro, who might still be asleep, I opened the door very quietly.

But when I entered through the door, I saw Kiro sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back facing me.

Kiro: Cello, don’t move. 

A cat’s tail came out from his side, swinging back and forth uncomfortably, but was caught by Kiro in the next second.

Kiro: A few days ago, I didn’t play with you, which made you unhappy with me.

He was talking to himself, then sighed slightly.

Kiro: From now on I will play with you every day, but you are not allowed to bite your tail.

Kiro: If you bite your tail bald again, I will confiscate your dried fish!

Hearing what he said, I couldn’t help but laugh.

Kiro turned around when he heard the sound and when I saw Cello resting in his arms, I opened my eyes wide.

MC: You made a small flower for her bald spot.

A small flower made of pink wool is tied around Cello’s tail, which was probably taken from Kiro’s clothes. It covered most of the bald spot.

Kiro: Miss Chips, why are you back so soon?

Kiro was a little taken back, but because of my presence, there was an unconcealed smile in his eyes.

As I walked to Kiro’s side, I creased my eyes and opened my mouth.

MC: Because the witty Miss Chips changed the meeting to an online one, if it is synchronized with the time abroad, it will not start until the evening.

Kiro touched his chin thoughtfully.

Kiro: In other words, before the meeting, you still have a lot of time alone with me. 

MC: You can think of it like that.

Suddenly I saw the familiar sly smile in his eyes. I was stunned for a second as I realized something and then took a step back cautiously.

Kiro smiled innocently and brilliantly.

Kiro: Miss Chips can’t run away, you came back to me by “getting caught” by my net. *Changed some wording*

In the next second, he hugged my waist and his presence hit me overwhelmingly.

Cello jumped to the ground, licked her paws, and curiously tilted her head to look at everything in front of her.

Kiro led me to the sofa where I sat in his arms, my heartbeat still a little fast.

Kiro chuckled.

Kiro: Why does Miss Chips look like as if I’m going to do something bad?

His palm touched my bare back, arousing a shudder.

He looked down at me, but there was nothing else in his eyes other than like. 

I think of his unusual moments these past few days and my heart can’t help but feel moved.

The next second, I reached out and hooked my arms around Kiro’s neck. Kiro looked at me in a daze.

MC: Kiro, all the things that happen to you, I want to be the first person to share them with you.

I paused.

MC: Just as happiness and sadness are all the flavours of life we must experience;

MC: I want to be together in those bleak moments that must be experienced.

MC: Because--friction generates heat.

MC: So next time if you feel empty, let me stay with you.

MC: Let me fill your time.

Kiro’s eyes seemed to have a small sparkle of light in them after hearing my words.

After a while, I was pulled by Kiro and fell back into his arms.

Following his movements, my bag fell to the ground and a clear sound rang out. Kiro turned his head and glanced, leaning over and picking up a lipstick.

I reached out to take the lipstick, but Kiro grabbed my wrist.

He looked at me and suddenly put some on his lips slowly.

In the small and charming space, all his movements seemed to be slow and carefully planned, which made me suddenly think of the fragments I saw in the lens. 

Kiro: While eating hot pot, Miss Chips said that she regretted not being able to see my exclusive performance. 

He paused for a moment and gave a grin.

Kiro: Well now you can.

He raised his hand and the hot red in his palm brushed my hair and then letting it fall onto my back, bringing the smell of spices.

It’s like a light kiss.

I stiffened for a moment, only to feel that the spot touched by him was burning like fire, making me want to get closer.

MC: Kiro….

I muttered Kiro’s name softly. As if receiving some kind of response, he suddenly took my hand.

Then he lowered his head slightly and pressed his warm lips to my wrist.

Kiro: I’m here.

There was a warm touch from his skin and Kiro’s lips were still pressed against my wrist, but he lifted his eyes to look at me.

I blushed suddenly and wanted to lower my head and look away. The next second, I was firmly grasped with his other hand.

He held my hand and guided my fingertips past his lips.

His look was seductive, like a fairy falling into the world, unknowingly attracting me.

But perhaps, he knew it.

Kiro: Now I am sure that you have filled the most precious time in my world.

His blue eyes are as gentle as the sea and there is only a small me inside of them.

He looked at me and got closer, hot breath fell on the side of my neck accompanied by a soft voice.

Kiro: In fact, there have always been many temptations and difficulties on the way to becoming an actor.

Kiro: It’s a small boat called “Kiro”, sailing on the waves of the world. He often encounters danger, gets injured, and breaks.

The soft touch lingers from the side of my neck to my earlobe, and the breathy whispers fall on my ears very affectionately.

Kiro: But this one person, she found the boat on the boundless sea and repaired his damages.

Kiro: She then stayed on the boat and sailed the world with him to see glaciers and lakes.

Kiro: This person is called Miss Chips, and she is-- the beacon that guides me through the world. 

His voice is like falling petals; quiet and soft with the ultimate sincerity. *Changed some wording*

Kiro: In the play, Kiro’s emotions belong to the stage.

Kiro: But Kiro outside the play, his world, everything about him belongs to you.

The scorching temperature left my neck and he looked at me earnestly with undisguised emotions in his eyes, like the surging ocean tides.

I couldn’t help but hug his neck back.

MC: Kiro, you made me the best Miss Chips in the world.

MC: Let’s go to farther places together, see glacial lakes, and sail the world together….

MC: Nothing can make me leave your side.

The sunflower grows enthusiastically and his golden hair is soft and brilliant. The world is flourishing and beautiful, just like himself.

If I were Kiro’s beacon for sailing the world, then let me be that tower that illuminates him.

Because-- he is also the most indispensable part of my world.

End

[stargazer-balladeer]

[i] - i’ll make you fall in love with me

Word Count: 2.6k

[series masterlist] [next]

“You’re staring again, [Y/N]~” Surprised at the sudden intrusion in your fantasies, you turn your head to the side to look at your friend, Hu tao. Smiling gleefully at you with a sinister mischief dancing in her eyes. “From how often you stare at him, it’s still a wonder that he hasn’t caught on your feelings for him~” She teased while snickering. Her comment made you huff in response and glare at her half-heartedly. “Shut up.” You groaned as you returned to the subject of your affection.

He always seems so busy. The kind that rarely has time for themselves. His blue crystallized eyes scanned the words of the book at his hands, so immersed in the contents of the book. His hair falling in front of his face, which he puts them back in their place. Chuckling to yourself when he had to straighten his hair for the 7th time in the past few minutes, his annoyance growing more and more. Makes you wonder what he looks like with his hair tied back. He’s so perfect. How could someone as handsome as him exist in your world? And to add to your delight, he was your classmate. 

Hu tao sighed when she realized she lost you again, staring dreamily at the dreamboat of the school. Albedo was his name. Who was also known as the “Kreideprinz”. Good at Alchemy (Chemistry) and science. Aloof, quiet, and albeit of a loner. Has a little sister named Klee. And a female friend, who was a year younger than them, Sucrose. He was practically the definition of perfection. Almost too perfect to be exact...

“You know you can talk to him right~? He’s just a foot away from you~” Hu tao said with her usual teasing tone, taking her seat next to you, placing her hat gently on her desk. Shifting your attention away from the blonde, you leaned on your chair and sigh, a slight pout on your face. “If I talk to him, I might end up embarrassing myself. I can already hardly think properly when I’m around him..” You said, mumbling the last part. Just the thought of talking to him made your heart speed up. But the bigger problem is what would you talk to him about? Albedo is known for his boredom and uninterested personality whenever a subject is being brought up that doesn’t catch his interest. 

Hu tao hums, eyes looking at the ceiling before looking at you, as she gave you a close-eyed smile. “Well, that’s your problem now, not mine~!” “Wow. You’re such a great help, Hu tao.” Rolling your eyes playfully with sarcastic leaking in your voice while Hu tao gleefully laughs. “I only specialize in the dead apartment, not the love apartment silly~” 

“Why did you leave me, Hu tao..?” You whined under your breath as you continued to sweep the fallen leaves on the ground. Your beloved friend and seatmate decided to ditch you at the last minute saying that she has to host a funeral for her parent’s work. Sighing at your own foolishness in believing her obvious lie, you continued sweeping the leaves. The wind outside was howling loudly, making the leaves you’ve gathered dance around the air. Groaning while you watch helplessly while your hard work gets destroyed by the playful winds. But your irritation soon faded when you take in the scenery before you. The autumn-colored leaves fly through the sky, contrasting with the sky.

You continued to stare at the sky, mesmerized at the scenery, not noticing a figure going towards you. Their boots making the leaves crunch beneath them as they made their way towards your figure. Stopping behind you, taking in your figure. You continued to stare at the sky, unaware of the third party until… 

“[Y/N].” The familiarity of the voice made it obvious who it is, especially if you’ve heard it countless times before. You tightly hold the broom with your hand, trying to squeeze out the sudden nervousness you had. Voice silky and quiet yet holds power in them. Taking a deep breath, you turn your head around to meet his striking blue eyes that shine under the glowing sky. Feeling warmth spreading to your cheeks, you looked away while coughing. If you were being honest to yourself, you were slightly intimidated by his sudden appearance. 

“D-Do you need anything, Albedo?” You asked, your voice coming off as more of a mumble. Slightly embarrassed at the volume of your voice, you scolded yourself mentally. You just made a fool out of yourself. Luckily Albedo heard you, probably used to soft voice because of his shy so-called ‘apprentice’. “You see, Miss Lisa decided to make me clean outside since most people skipped out of their cleaning duties again. I was about to skip as well but Miss Lisa pulled the ‘if you don’t do what you’re told, you’re getting punished’ and we all know how she punishes people.” He paused while sighing, placing his hand on his forehead. “So, with no other choice, unless I want to suffer the wrath of a librarian, I made my way to the supply closet but found no broom there. Then I saw you with a broom. So, may I ask to borrow the broom? All I have to do is sweep a bit so that I can tell Miss Lisa that I cleaned.” He finishes his explanation. You can tell he was frustrated that the Head Librarian, Miss Lisa, made him clean instead of doing some weird experiments. 

“Ah. I see.” You mumbled while nodding your head slowly. Deciding quickly that you could use a break from sweeping so you gave him your broom. You noticed that his fingers sightly graze against yours, slightly feeling the warmth in them. Feeling this, you quickly pulled back your hand. You swear your heart started to speed up even more. What you didn’t know is that Albedo was quietly observing you. “Thank you.” He said. Wordlessly, you nodded your head in response. Albedo starts walking towards you and picking up where you left off. You awkwardly stand at the side, deciding to lean on a tree’s trunk, watching him intently. The howling wind is now quiet and gentle, enough force to make yours and Albedo’s hair fly. You watch as his blonde hair flies with the wind, making him look more ethereal. His posture refined and his actions gentle. He really seems like a prince from a fairytale.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” His voice snapped you out of your mind’s imaginations. His comment made you dread for the worst as you realized that he was staring back at you with a blank expression on his face. You stared back with eyes wide and flushed cheeks, embarrassed at being caught red-handed. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to stare.” You stammered, feeling your cheeks become hot, your heart beating erratically in your chest. Why did you have to embarrass yourself in front of him of all people? 

Tilting his head slightly, his eyes speaking volumes of his nonexistent interest in the current topic. “I can feel your stare, you know. I’m not stupid or naive.” His sharp tone made you flinch. “You’ve been staring at me so much lately. It’s starting to become annoying honestly.” Feeling your eyes sting from the rather harshness of his words, your eyes shifted to the ground as you tightly gripped your sweater. “If you have no business with me, please don’t disturb me with any of your stares from now on. Unless…” 

Walking closer to you, he placed his finger under your chin, making you look up at him. Gazing deeply at the eyes of the ocean-color, his eyes held nothing but a storm of mixed feelings. Why? “You have something to tell me?” He finished, staring deeply in your [E/C] eyes. Feeling your lips dry, you lick them as nervousness surge through your veins. Was now such a good time? 

Hearing no response from you after a couple of minutes, he sighed as he lets go of your chin. Turning around to pick up the fallen broom and giving it to you, not meeting your eyes. “I believe I’ve done my part now. You can continue the work. I’ve got to go to the laboratory now. See you tomorrow.” He said in a monotone voice, with a tint of disappointment if you listen to it carefully. As he started to walk away from you, his hair flying behind him, his hands in his pockets. This was your chance. No need to waste it. Say it now. 

“I like you Albedo.” You said with utmost confidence that you can manage to get after taking a deep breath, staring at his figure with certainty in your eyes. Gripping the broom’s handle tightly as you started to explain yourself, not at all noticing how Albedo stopped walking. “I really like how smart you are! You’ve helped me multiple times already and I’ve always wanted to repay you but I don’t know how. I like how thoughtful you are with those closest to you. Even though you’re aloof and always uninterested, I still like that part about you! You’re always honest about your feelings and—!”

“Stop.” Eyes widening at his sudden interruption, you immediately went silent. Did you say something wrong? Maybe you’ve offended him accidentally without knowing. “A-Ah.. I said something wrong, didn’t I? I’m so sor—“ “No. It’s not that.” He said, interrupting you once more. You continued to stare at him, unsure what to do. Not noticing how he took a deep breath before turning his head around to look at you with such coldness and hatred in his eyes, making you flinch. You’ve never seen him this angry or cold before. Did you really make him mad?

“I don’t like you. There. Now stop annoying me.” He said sharply, venom clearly dripping from his voice, as he turned his head around and continued to walk, leaving you dumbfounded and heartbroken. You stood there frozen, staring at where he was previously. Zhongli, who was passing by casually, noticed you standing still. Approaching you with his hands behind him, he coughed slightly, trying to gain your attention. But seeing no response from his student, he grew worried. “Are you okay, miss [Y/N]?” He asked in a soft voice. When he didn’t receive a response again, he decided to peek at your face and was surprised at the tear-filled face you have. Sniffling quietly as tears continuously flow from your eyes. He immediately went in front of you as he stares at you with sadness and pity in his eyes. “Why are you crying? Was someone bullying you? Do I have to suspend someone-?” “N-No..” you sniffled, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. “I-I’m fine. Something just caught in my eyes.” 

Zhongli knew you were crying but didn’t press it. “I see. I suppose I can accept that kind of reasoning for now. Come, let’s go to my office. I’ll brew you some tea to calm you down and then, if you want to, you can talk to me whatever troubles your mind.”

“Hey.. what happened to you~? You look as lifeless as a corpse~!” Even though she tried to act cheerful, you can hear the tint of worry behind her voice. The worry in her eyes as she stares at your rather lifeless body. You smiled at her, trying to cease her worry, but it resulted in her getting more worried for you. “I’m fine, Hu tao. I just… had a hard time sleeping yesterday. That’s all.” You said while taking a seat next to her. She narrowed her eyes at you before nodding her head. “K~ if you say so…” 

As you made yourself comfortable at your desk, you didn’t notice a pair of eyes staring at you…

“... you know you can always skip gym if you don’t feel like it. No need to push yourself so hard. Or else you might end up being one of my clients hehe~” Hu tao giggled, how she managed to cover up her concern with a death joke, you can never understand. You sighed before shaking your head. “I’m fine. I can manage myself perfectly.” Hu tao sighs, her smile dropping to a disapproving frown. “If you push yourself too hard, I’ll personally drag you to the infirmary to rest.” “Yes ma’am.”

After the teacher gave out the assigned tasks for the period, everyone dispersed to do the tasks. You decided to run first with Hu tao, but it seems like you’re slowing her down as evidence of her stopping a few times for you to catch up to her. “You can go ahead. I’ll be fine on my own.” She stared at you before sighing. “Fine. See you at the end~!” After she sped up and went ahead of you, you continued to run at your pace. But your head started to throb painfully making you stop running, holding your forehead as you wait for the pain to stop. It doesn’t help that the sun decided to give out its harsh hot rays today. Deciding to sit down to make the throbbing stop, you sat under the shade of a tree as you try to stop the pain. 

“Here.” Looking up immediately when a familiar voice reaches your ears, your eyes meet a pair of blue eyes, the same pair that held coldness and hatred within them yesterday. Your eyes trail to the outstretch bottle of water in his hand. “Take it.” He said, nudging it closer to you, urging you to take it. Hesitantly, you took it and drank it. What made you even more surprised is that he sat down next to you, letting his legs stretch on the ground with his hand on the ground as well. Feeling albeit uncomfortable at how close he is next to you, you scooted away from him a bit. Noticing your actions in the corner of his eyes, he sighed. 

“Look. I’m sorry for the harsh words I said yesterday. I didn’t mean any of them. I guess I was just frustrated that nothing was going right yesterday, I’m sorry for taking it out on you.” Albedo apologized, his eyes gazing at the scenery before you. You stayed silent, still feeling hurt at his actions. He sighed once more. “I guess I gotta go. I don’t want to make you more uncomfortable or hurt than you are now.” He mumbled, standing up while dusting himself off. You stared at him at the corner of your eyes. Sensing your stare, he gave you a small smile in return. “See you later I suppose.”

Watching him go the same way he did yesterday made your stomach churn uncomfortably, the pain and sadness you felt yesterday was unforgettable. But you knew he was being sincere now. You saw how sorry he was in his eyes, and the fact he made time to apologize to you properly made your heart pound once more. I guess this is what they call love huh?

“Albedo!” Jumping at the sudden call of his name, he turned around to look at you. You were standing and smiling brightly, so bright like the sun, making his eyes widened a bit. “I like you! I know you don’t like me yet but, I promise that I’ll make you fall for me!” You exclaimed, adrenaline surging in your veins as you made your proclaim. He stared at you, dumbfounded before looking away, letting out a laugh, his hand covering his mouth. When his head turns to you once more, a glimmer of excitement and hope shines in his eyes, and a smirk settled in his usually stoic face.

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

[writing-in-april]

Georgia Peach

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer sees Reader eating a peach and goes a little crazy.

A/N: this was a long time coming- ive been writing this oneshot for forever and I finally finished it! The original prompt is from @imagining-in-the-margins and I also incorporated a request for a pearl necklace from @sunlight-moonrise This fic was also written for @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff so I could give them some gender neutral smut! Most of my fluff is gender neutral but until now I hadn’t dived into writing gender neutral smut. I’ll definitely be writing more in the future- I like writing stuff that is as inclusive as possible! There shouldn’t be any mistakes in terms of pronouns- I had a ton of people look at it, but if there is please message me!If you live in Georgia don’t forget to vote in the Georgia state runoff elections!

Warnings: Sub!Spencer, Topping from the bottom, Very slight food play, Face Fucking, Pearl necklace, Pubic sex (sorta), Unprotected sex

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.9k

I was pretty sure I was going to explode just from looking at Y/N. They weren’t doing anything that was infuriating, annoying, or even anything that most would consider sexual in nature. They had decided that a peach brought in by one of the Georgia detectives was the best way to relieve their parched mouth caused by the blistering heat. The mundane act of eating a peach combined with the deep v neck that adorned their figure was apparently enough to make my slacks uncomfortably tight.

Get it together Spencer.

My inner voice was slapping me upside the head repeatedly, trying in vain to break me out of the daydream I had found myself immersed in. I swept the sweat off of my brow while continuing to unabashedly stare at Y/N. I knew that I needed to draw my eyes away from Y/N and focus on the case file that was sitting on my lap. But, just as I was about to tear my eyes away from them they took a large bite of the delicate skin of the white peach causing juice to dribble down their chin.

I’m screwed.

Subtly was not a strong suit of mine. That became painfully obvious when my eyes widened to the max in an attempt to see every detail of the erotic picture I was painting in my mind. The picture became clearer in my mind as another bite was taken out of the supple fruit. The juice escaped their mouth again, however this time a new path was taken when the liquid fell past their chin. The drop of nectar slid down past the juncture of their collarbones, falling perfectly down the point of the v on their shirt, almost as if it was carefully planned and executed. My mind wandered further than I thought possible when images flashed before my eyes of Y/N covered in something different, but similarly sticky. I was so transfixed at the sight that I didn’t notice the coy smile being flashed my way from across the room.

“You alright Dr. Reid?” I could hear the coquettish voice but it sounded like it was 1000 miles away. Everything had become muffled, the only sound I could clearly hear was the thrumming of my heart beat in my ears. I gulped hard, trying and failing to distance myself from my thoughts.

A loud snap in front of my face from the culprit of my dirty thoughts cleared my mind just enough to refocus on the person in front of me. The visage of Y/N still had me in a haze of lust that I couldn’t shake but, I did find some strength within myself to respond, “Y-yeah I’m alright Y/N just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nnn-Nothing, don’t worry about it.” My tone had risen to a high pitch and that along with my stuttering instantly gave away that something was brewing in my head. And, Y/N was good at reading me, they’d always been able to pick out how I felt in a few sentences or less. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d picked up how turned on I was right away.

Yeah, I’m totally screwed.

It was now so silent you could hear a pin drop. I tried to slow down my breathing that had picked up some minutes ago due to the mounting tension in my trousers. Sadly, despite my efforts I could not calm down, my trousers still felt way too tight and now everything felt hot. My face was probably bright red right now from the burning heat coursing through my veins, which would just end up being another signal to Y/N that something was amiss.

I tugged at the edge of my collar trying another way to reduce tension in my body as now the skinny tie I wore felt too tight on my neck. Immediately my mind jumped away to- I wish their hand was on my neck.

During my efforts to ease the tension in my body I must have failed to notice the fact that Y/N was still staring at me. A shudder was sent down my spine when I finally peaked my eyes up from the hands that held the peach to their eyes which felt like they were boring into my thoughts and reading everything.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and never leave. There was no doubt in my mind Y/N had sensed my arousal by now and I’m pretty sure I looked even brighter than a cherry as I started to stumble out an apology. I couldn’t even get one full word out before they had set down the offending fruit and made their way over to me. The chair that I had been sitting in was a swivel chair which Y/N took full advantage of by spinning me around to face them. Their chest was bent over to come down to my sitting form but instead of focusing where their face was my eyes were firmly fixated again on the sliver of skin still glistening with the juice from the peach.

I just wanted to lick it off.

My mind had again been so lost in lust that I didn’t notice that they were now so close to me that I could feel their breath mixing with my own and all my mind was focused on was tasting the sweet nectar that I knew still sat on their tongue. Like a man possessed I tried to lean forward hungrily at Y/N to relieve the undeniable but silent tension we had created. However, suddenly my arm was being pulled out of the conference room by them leading me down the path to the archive room. The city we were stationed in for the case was definitely behind technologically, so much so that they still kept all their files on paper. The old files from cold or closed cases were then schlepped into this forgotten archive room that I was being led to like a lost puppy by Y/N.

I stumbled in after Y/N into the archive room that was pitch black. They dropped their hold on my hand as soon as the door shut behind me making me grope around in the dark looking for some guidance. I heard the distinctive click and their skin was then illuminated by the glow of the singular lightbulb that hung in the center of the small room that Y/N turned on.

“Do you want this Spencer?” They said while strutting over slowly to me, I apprehend the offer of being able to back out but it was an offer I would definitely not be taking. As soon as my head nodded in agreement their mouth was on mine in the most blissful kiss I had ever had the pleasure of taking part in.

The taste of our tongues intermingling was overwhelmingly peach as I was finally able to get a taste of Y/N. Their movements were much more calculated compared to my sloppy desperate attempt to control the kiss. With practiced ease they dominated and I willfully surrendered to whatever Y/N wanted me to do to them. A shudder came into my bones as Y/N pressed me up into the nearest walland then untucked my shirt to run teasing little circles with their left hand over my hip bones.

The kiss was cut way too short in my opinion as they released my lips and then teasingly put their thumb into my mouth. I swirled my lips around their thumb with an intense pout, I tried to look as pitiful as possible, trying to coax them to stay right there with me. Unfortunately they pulled away from me altogether and then sauntered over to where the short filing cabinets were sat in the room, making my pout deepen further then I thought possible .

“Aww- don’t pout you’ll get what you want.” They said before leaving me, the mocking tone in their voice only making me pout harder. Any complaint I had  died in my throat when they pushed their pants and underwear down swiftly. They obviously had a better understanding of the fact that this tryst had to go quickly- and hopefully quietly. The closest filing cabinet to Y/N then became a prop for them to balance so they could bend over seductively. And with a simple crook of their finger I was over behind them ready to service them the best I could. My pants undone and pulled down enough to pull my cock out, jerking myself slightly so I was fully hard and ready to wrap them around me.

Wait. Was this really happening?

I questioned myself as I pushed into them from behind slowly wanting to savor every moment I had with Y/N wrapped around me and- also to also convince myself that this wasn’t a wild figment of my imagination. However, my long drawn out thrust was cut short by Y/N pushing their hips back against me taking me all the way down to the hilt. As soon as I was fully sheathed inside of them I started to rock my hips into theirs with little whimpers falling from my lips. If I had been in a different state of mind, one that wasn’t desperately trying to seek release, I would have probably flushed red in embarrassment at the noises I was making.

“Oh! Good Boy, Spencer.” They groaned out as I picked up the pace, my hands then briefly left their hips to pull them back so their back was flush against mine. The change in angle of my thrusts seemingly made Y/N’s pleasure skyrocket, the praises that they had been giving out to me being muddled down into moans that they muffled with their hand. I could tell their release was close when they let their head drop backwards into the crook of my neck and began to meet my thrusts vigorously.

A deep guttural groan came out of my chest as Y/N wound their other arm around behind them to tug on my hair as they came to their release. Pure bliss fell across Y/N’s face along with a lazy smile while they rode out the waves of their release. I kept rocking my hips forward to prolong their pleasure but my own release was beginning to brew within me.

Y/N reached behind to rest their hands on top of mine, they had been gripping into the sides of their hips roughly enough that there were sure to be bruises. They had me pull out, I almost thought they weren’t going to let me finish and began to beg with a long drawn out whine. Y/N flashed me another one of their devilish smirks, no doubt in response to my whimpers. Another pathetic beg slipped past my lips before my mind went completely blank as soon as they dropped to their knees.

“Fuck- Spencer I want you to fuck my face.” A sharp and sudden groan tore through me at their words, I swear Y/N was going to be the death of me. I bobbed my head up and down nodding as quick as I could, probably a little too eagerly but, I couldn’t find it within myself to care. “Like I said- you’ll get what you want.”

Y/N then spit in their hand and started to jerk me off slightly- I could honestly cum like this and be completely satisfied. But, then they moved forward and licked up the length of my shaft before slightly sucking on my tip.

The feeling of their mouth just enveloping my tip made me feel like I had died and gone to heaven.

Holy shit this was really happening.

A choked moan started to fall from my mouth before I quickly tried to stifle it by biting into my fist. My other hand was manipulated by Y/N to rest at the back of their head, a nonverbal queue to let me know I could start doing what they wanted and fuck their face.

The thrusts I started off with were quite soft and shallow, even though they had requested that I do this to them I still never wanted to hurt them.

I almost pulled them off of me when I heard a soft gagging as the tip of my dick hit the back of their throat, but they held their own throat down on me making a high pitched whine that didn’t sound like it could come from me came falling from my lips.

After getting the chance to fuck Y/N and now their mouth was around me, I was going to finish embarrassingly quickly. My thrusts started to falter, I could feel my release in the base of my spine, threatening to spill at any moment.

“W-where can I-” I tried to stutter out before finishing, though I failed miserably, my approaching orgasm stifling the words.

Luckily, Y/N understood perfectly and pulled off of me to answer, “I want you to cum on me my chest, face, neck- wherever you want.” A deep seated groan rumbled through my chest at their words while they jerked my length. Y/N worked kisses up my thighs bringing me teetering on the edge about to fall into a pool of euphoria. When they pressed a kiss to the tip of my cock I fell into my orgasm and became blinded by the pleasure. I was fortunately still able to keep my eyes open to see Y/N get covered with the fruits of their labor. It was a filthy sight that made my eyes widen and my pupils blow wider then they had ever been before.

A few moments passed as we both caught our breath, each for different reasons. My gaze was still fixated on how my release had fallen over Y/N. Specifically I fixated on the spot where some had fallen down their chest right down where the v of their shirt had been before- right where the juice had slid down.

“Well I should’ve thought this through more… I don’t have anything to clean myself up.” Y/N gasped out in giggles breaking out of the dominant role that they had fallen into earlier which broke me out of the daze I had been in. I looked at them with endearment, I loved every facet of Y/N’s personality.

“I-I’ll be right back I’ll find something.” I stuttered out while basically stumbling back into my clothes. Before tripping out of the room to try and locate some tissues I did my best to make myself appear presentable again, taming my curls, smoothing out my shirt, and tucking it back into my slacks.

“You forgot something.” Y/N called out to me just as I was about to scurry out. Still naked and unclean, they held my belt up by one finger and had a teasing little smile on their face that was nothing but trouble. I walked up and quickly snatched the belt back and began to loop them through my slacks. My head was tilted down, suddenly growing shy at the sight of Y/N even though I had been the one to make them look so depraved in the first place.

“Now come on Spencer, stop being so shy. You weren’t shy 2 minutes ago.” The way they bit their lip at the end of the teasing remark made me want to get down on my knees and worship them. Sadly, work was calling both of our names pulling us out of our own little world that we had created in this dark, small- and slightly dusty archive room.

I gained back a little bit of my lost confidence and moved forward to envelop Y/N in a kiss, one that was much softer than our previous ones. The taste of the kiss still felt like a drop of golden sun from the peaches, albeit tainted with something a little more salty now.

“You taste good.” I said with a shy but knowing smirk before biting my lip. “You look good too but- you also look like trouble.”

“Yes, but you quite like trouble” They remarked in amusement before shoving me closer to the door, “Go on now, I can't stay naked covered in your cum for the rest of the day.”

“It would be a pretty sight though.” I said cheekily, slipping out of the room quickly to avoid one of their shoes being thrown at me in fake annoyance. As I left the room to hunt down something to clean Y/N up so we could go about the rest of our work day I came to a conclusion.

I quite enjoy trouble- and peaches.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

the shrooms cafe

part 1- watermelon tea with strawberry boba

hello everyone 🥺 this is the first series i've ever done so i'm a little nervous but i'm so excited because I really like this story!!!

this is the first part, and I have literally no idea how long it will be because I don't have a solid plan/outline yet! so feel free to send little concepts or things you would like to see included 🥺 i can't guarantee they will be added but i'll definitely try my best :)

shrooms cafe masterlist

my masterlist

warnings: none

word count: 2k

"Stella, we have to leave in 10 minutes!" You called up the stairs. "Come down so you can eat breakfast!" "Yeah Stella, hurry up!" Seraphina yelled from her spot at the dining table. She was finishing up her fruit loops with a grin on her face. "You're going to make us late!" As the youngest, she often liked to bother her sisters. She was only five, just starting kindergarten, but she was already a master at getting under their skin.

"Sera, don't antagonize your sister, please," you reminded her. "She's not going to make us late." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seraphina, you're so immature." Despite only being 11, Sophie was clearly the mother hen. You sometimes joked that the girls didn't even need you; Sophie would take on the role of their mother with no problem. "Besides, you were the one who made us late yesterday." "It's not my fault I couldn't find my purple socks. What was I supposed to do?" "Maybe wear different socks?" Sophie suggested smugly. "You know I need my purple socks, otherwise I can't write my words!" Sophie rolled her eyes again. "You don't need a certain color socks to write." "Yes I do!" You smiled to yourself, turning back to the fridge as the two bickered. You pulled out the ingredients you would need to make their lunches, then reached up on your tiptoes to get their lunch bags from the top of fridge. "Okay girls, what kind of sandwiches do you want today?" "Peanut butter and jelly!" Seraphina said excitedly. "Why did I even ask?" You smiled. "And Sophie?" "Turkey please, but I can make it myself," She said, sliding off her chair and bringing the breakfast dishes to the sink. "Thank you, love," you said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You are such a big help in the mornings, I don't know what I would do without you." "You would have a real handful dealing with those two," She said matter-of-factly. "That I would," you laughed, handing her a butter knife. "Stella!" you called again. The 8 year old came running down the stairs, carrying her backpack and another bag. "Did you forget I have dance today?" "I did not forget," you reassured her. She liked to plan things, and got worried quickly if she wasn't kept in the loop. "I'll pick you up at the door by the playground, does that work?" "Actually, I was wondering if I could walk today? A bunch of my friends do, and I feel kind of weird having my mom drop me off." "That should be fine," You nodded. "But stay with the group, don't go off by yourself." "I won't," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so overprotective." "Oh yes, I'm so sorry for trying to keep you safe," you laughed. "Now what do you want for lunch?" Once everything was ready, the four of you made your way out to the car. Stella climbed into the back, and Sophie helped Seraphina get buckled. Even though the three of them bickered a lot (as sisters often do) it wasn't hard to see how much they loved each other. "Everybody buckled?" You asked, looking behind you. When you heard a chorus of confirmation, you started your playlist and smiled when the opening notes of Adore You filtered through the speakers. It was easily one of your favorite songs, and the girls liked it just as much as you did. It wasn't a long drive to the cafe; it took about 15 minutes if traffic was good. The girls' school bus stopped about a block away, so they walked there together every morning. Then after school, they would come back to the shop and read books or finish homework until it was time to close up and go home. You parked in the lot behind the shop, helping the girls out of the car and making sure they had all their things. Seraphina held out her hand, and Stella grabbed it to help her jump over a puddle on the sidewalk. Sophie gasped excitedly. "I think that was the biggest jump you've ever done!" The girls promptly launched into a discussion about who could jump farther as you unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, they made their way over to the mushrooms to find some books for the day. Their voices filled the shop as they chatted about school and the cute boy Stella liked and the kitten they had seen outside their house the other day. You went about your morning duties, flipping on the lights and starting up the coffee machine. You also turned on the oven, preparing to bake the muffins. (They were frozen- who has the time to bake them fresh? Certainly not a mother of 3.) Once the kitchen was ready, you went over to the radio and tuned it to a familiar station, the soft

music adding some pleasant background noise. "Okay girls, it's time to get to the bus stop," you said, leaning over the counter to speak to them. "Don't forget, I'm walking to dance," Stella said, pointing at you as she walked to the door. "I won't forget," you said, pointing back at her. "Have a good day!" "Bye mom," Seraphina waved her small hand at you. "Bye honey, bye Sophia," You smiled, blowing a kiss to the three of them. "See you later!" Once the three of them were gone, you went around to the shelves and straightened up, getting ready for your first customers.

-----

After the lunch rush had dwindled down and the shop was nearly empty again, you were getting ready to go on your lunch break. You had just leaned down to grab a sandwich from the deli case when the bell above the door jingled, alerting you that a new customer had come in. You straightened up, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was, but you quickly fixed your face and smiled. "Welcome to the Shrooms Cafe!" "Hello," the man smiled back, speaking in a deep British accent. "I saw your sign for boba tea, and I've been looking everywhere to find some. You're the third shop I've been to today, so I'm really hoping you're not sold out like everywhere else," he grinned, coming closer to the counter. "No, we're not out! What kind did you want?" You asked. "Um... probably should have thought about that before I came in," he laughed nervously, looking at the menu above your head. "Oh, don't worry about it, we're not busy right now," you said reassuringly. “Take all the time you need.” He smiled gratefully, stepping off to the side while he read the menu. Meanwhile, you fidgeted with towels and wiped off the work surfaces and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him. Who could blame you, really? Harry Styles had just walked into your coffee shop. Who wouldn’t stare? “I think…” he spoke again, breaking you out of your trance. “I’ll do the watermelon tea, with strawberry boba, please.” You nodded, laughing lightly. He quirked one eyebrow, smiling along with you. “What’s funny?” “Oh, no, it’s just… of course you would order the one with watermelon.” “Oh,” he smiled, and you thought you detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I guess I do have a bit of a reputation with fruit, don’t I?” “Just a little,” you grinned. “One watermelon tea with strawberry boba, coming right up.” After ringing up the order, you quickly got to work. Instead of his real name, you wrote “watermelon man” on the sticker on the cup. Hopefully he would appreciate your little joke. “Here you are,” you smiled. “I hope it’s good, seeing as you worked so hard to find some.” “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he laughed, grabbing a straw from beside the cash register. You also noticed he had dropped a generous tip into the jar, probably while you had been busy making the drink. “Have a nice day,” you smiled. “You as well,” he said with a small wave before he made his way out the door, sipping his drink as he went. You sighed, shaking your head with a small grin as you grabbed the sandwich from earlier and went to a table for your lunch break.

-----

“Hi mom!” Sophie yelled, holding open the door for Seraphina. “Hi girls!” You called from the back corner of the shop. “I’m by the mushrooms!” The girls quickly found you, Seraphia hugging you and Sophie situating herself on one of the short stools. “How was your day?” You asked. “Good! I gave my report on monarch butterflies and guess what Mrs. Wilson said?” Sophie asked, leaning forward. “What did she say?” “She said it was the best report she had heard all day. She waited until the other kids left so they wouldn’t feel bad, but still,” she said proudly. “Oh wow! I’m so proud of you,” you said, moving over to hug her. “What did I tell you? You can do anything you put your mind to,” you smiled. “Including writing the best report in the whole class, hmm?” She nodded happily before turning away from you to pull a book off the shelf closest to her. “Which one are you starting now?” You asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the book she had. “Anne of Green Gables,” she said. “Oh, I loved those books when I was your age,” you smiled. “I think you’ll really like them.”

She nodded, already immersed in the book. You turned back to Seraphina, who was pulling her folder out of her backpack. “And how was your day, miss Seraphina?” “It was so good, look!” She handed you a paper with two gold stars at the top. “My teacher gave me two gold stars. She said my writing was very good!"

"All that practicing we did must have worked, then!" you said, beaming as you looked at her letters. They were still wobbly, but a huge improvement over how they had been at the beginning of the school year.

She nodded. "And then I colored this picture for you!” She handed you another page. This one had a drawing of you holding hands with her, Sophie, and Stella. The three of you had big smiles and lots of adorable little details. Stella had her hair in a bun and was wearing ballet shoes. Sophie was holding a book in her free hand. Seraphina had drawn herself wearing a shirt with a cat (her favorite animal) on it, and she was wearing her purple socks. Lastly, there was you, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a shirt with a big red heart on it. “Since you like coffee so much,” she explained. “It's beautiful,” you smiled, hugging her. “We’ll hang it on the fridge when we get home, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you find a book and read with Sophie for a little bit? We have just over an hour, then we have to go get Stella from dance.” She nodded, handing you the papers and her backpack before running over to the shelves. She grabbed a picture book, settling into the red cushion in the tree and beginning to flip through the pages.

----- “Alright girls, it’s time to pick up Stella,” you said as you wiped off the counter one last time. You had already turned off all the machines and packed up everything else for the day. You flipped the lights off on the way out, smiling a bit when you saw the hand painted sign for boba tea in the window. Harry came into your mind again, with his easy smile, his kind words, and his blushing laugh. You really hoped you would see him again, even though you knew you probably wouldn't. Your shop wasn't very big or well known. How likely was it for him to come to the same little shop in the middle of London again? Still, it didn’t hurt to hope. Maybe he would decide to try the other flavors and stop in again. Your smile spread even further when you started your playlist and Lights Up was the first song to come on. Apparently, it was going to be hard to forget about him.