#if i ever find the time and energy i might even draw that
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blumineck · 9 months ago
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hi! you're great I love your work! I've got a weirdly specific archery question and thought I'd send it to you in case you'd find it fun to have a crack at
say you're an expert archer originally from Vietnam sometime in the late bronze age. say you're a super duper expert archer because it turns out you're immortal, and so you do your archery across Eurasia through the first millennium BCE and the first millennium CE and into the age where gunpowder weapons are evolving into cannons. that's a long time to be alive and you do lots of hunting and fighting with all kinds of bows and shooting styles, especially war archery on horseback. then you're out of the picture for a while, let's say you're peacefully sleeping for a handful of centuries. (this is about Quynh from The Old Guard who alas was not peacefully sleeping)
all of a sudden you blink and you've gone from the era where firearms were just starting to develop and maybe with this new flintlock thing guns could eventually get good enough to rival a bow and arrows— bam, now you're in the 21st century. what kinds of modern archery tech would you be most excited to try out? what would you think of a compound bow? Olympic style archery? plastic fletching?? how about the modern reproductions of what are now considered historical bows and shooting styles? is there anything about 21st century archery that you'd want to rant about at length? other opinions about these newfangled takes on your trusty old bow and arrows you care to share?
This is a phenomenal question, and thank you for asking it! Here’s my 2 cents:
The thing about modern archery is that for the most part, modern bows are designed to make it easier to be accurate, to the stage that modern target accuracy is probably better than it’s ever been historically.
BUT, if we assume Quynh is capable of feats of archery that match the level of melee combat skill that e.g. Andy has, then she doesn’t NEED it to be easier to be accurate.
My guess is that someone like her would actually find most modern archery developments needlessly slow and awkward. Compound bows and Olympic recurves are NOT designed for instinctive, fast shooting, and would probably feel quite restrictive once she got over how easy they made accuracy.
BUT, I imagine she would be blown away by the range and arrow speed that modern bows can generate, and there are some recurves (and at least one compound bow), that have been designed to make use of the efficiency of modern materials and bow design, while still allowing traditional shooting styles, and those, THOSE are something an ancient immortal archer might fall in love with! (FWIW, my own go-to is a horsebow made with carbon-fibre limbs and a modern limb profile, and for impact energy it can match some traditional bows with a draw weight that’s 50% greater. The Oneida eagle compound could trump that).
So yeah, it might take her a bit, but once she gets her hands on the right equipment, she’d be (even more) TERRIFYING!
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vonlycsnn · 3 months ago
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✧ — PICTURE PERFECT
~ VON LYCAON X GENDER NEUTRAL ARTIST! READER.
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SUMMARY: You're a famous artist/illustrator in New Eridu, absolutely tired of trying to deal with recent problems. then you decide to call Victoria Housekeeping Co. for some help, it was the best decision of your life.
- cw/tw: none.
- A/N: im so obsessed over this man its genuinely concerning, pls help. also this might be messy/ooc(?)...it's my first time writing this kinda stuff so bare with me.
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Being such a well-known artist in New Eridu is tough work. Not only do you have to keep up with your clients' demands and expectations, you also have to deal with thieves trying to steal your work. 
You were thankful that some of your most valuable artworks were in museums that had incredible security, but even so, those bastards are still trying to break into your mansion and steal your canvases that have yet to be delivered or even unfinished.
Understandably, you grew tired of all the stuff you went through, slowly becoming restless from the amount of sleepless nights you had to fight through. To the point where you wanted to quit art completely but you just couldn't. Art was your passion. You've been drawing for nearly your entire life; you couldn't quit now.
Thankfully, a kind client of yours took notice of your situation and recommended Victoria Housekeeping to you. At first you were skeptical; there's no way a housekeeping company could help you with these problems, right?
"I don't think they'll be able to help me..." you kindly said. The client merely smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.
"Just give them a call. Trust me."
And here you are now, constantly being served and protected by the members of Victoria Housekeeping. You were extremely grateful for their service; they've made your life so much better than you expected. 
You've grown so close to them that you became one of their most respected clients, having to be close friends with each of the members. You didn't want to say that you had a favorite attendant, but you do have a preferred one. 
Rina, although her general services are incredible and you'd always find yourself having a great time with her, her culinary skills are...questionable at best, but still, you didn't want to upset her by any means. 
Corin is a sweet girl. When the two of you became acquainted, you saw her as a little sister. Although you were surprised at how strong she is for her age, you didn't think much of it. The problem with her is how much she doubts herself; you'd have to constantly remind her that she's not doing anything wrong, and as much as you hate to admit it, you were pretty annoyed.
Ellen, well...she isn't too enthusiastic about regular housekeeping jobs, not to mention she's always low-energy. But the number of times she saved you from the most dangerous situations was enough for her to gain your respect. Plus, talking about internet trends with her is always fun.
And there's Lycaon. Oh, did you have so many words about him. To keep it simple, he was just right. His services are always near perfect; he has saved you countless times from hollows and thieves; he is elegant; he is a gentleman; you could ramble about him all day for all you cared.
To be perfectly honest, you grew a crush on him. Every time he'd lean behind you to see what you're working on, you'd always freeze in place. Too flustered by what was happening. Every time you'd hear his voice, you'd melt. The way he acts just makes your heart flutter...He was perfect.
As your own personal request for him, you wished he'd spend more time with you. Be it in the mansion or outside. He smiled, bowing down in front of you.
"As you wish, master. I'm more than happy to spend time with an amazing artist such as yourself." He said. You saw his tail wagging ever so slightly, but decided to say nothing; you merely smiled.
Every now and then he'd come to your office to check on you; he'd bring you food every time you lost track of time; he'd give you a massage whenever you had free time.
"It's always important to maintain a good posture, master." As he would say.
But being an attendant for a full-time artist comes with its own challenges. Other than having to constantly be on guard at night for possible thieves, he'd always let out an irritated sigh whenever he saw your workspace covered in paint. Especially when you're making abstract art. But he understands that art can be messy sometimes, and that's fine.
Every time you get a commission to make abstract art, you'd always rent a workspace outside of the mansion. Just so Lycaon doesn't have to deal with the mess.
But other than that, the two of you were grateful for each other's company.
Much to your dismay, however, your feelings for him grew the longer you spent time with him. You became so close to Lycaon than any of the other attendants; he knew your weakness, he knew your strengths, and he even knew some of your secrets.
You couldn't express your feelings for him with words, and so you did what you knew best: to draw. As a request, you asked Lycaon if you could take a few pictures of him. Of course he obliged. Amidst the photography, he asked.
"If I were to be bold to ask, master, what is the purpose of this?"
You merely smiled at him, saying that it's nothing important. A part of him knew about what you're planning, but he decided to keep quiet and merely chuckled.
After the interaction, you quickly but stealthily took a small canvas and a few of your painting supplies.
Days passed, and the painting was finally ready. You have pulled many all-nighters to finish this; you spent so much time carefully adding details and capturing his looks to the formerly blank canvas. And you couldn't be happier with the results; you just hope it was enough to make him understand the message you're trying to pass.
You took a deep breath and finally called for him. He quickly arrives at your workspace, noticing the medium-sized easel and the small paint stains on the floor. Your back was facing towards him, trying to hide the painting from his view. Realizing what to do, you flipped the canvas and turned towards him. He was understandably confused, and you were too nervous to say anything. You quickly walked up to him and handed the canvas to him.
"Here. I...made this for you." You said in such a shaky voice, he was almost concerned. But he gently grabs the canvas, and finally, he turns it to reveal the drawing. He was... speechless. Absolutely speechless. Just standing there, appreciating what he's seeing. You stuttered, trying to get words out of your mouth.
"...as a way to express how much I'm thankful for everything you've done. You're an amazing attendant, and I wanted to repay you somehow. W-well, other than using money." You awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with your fingers.
Lycaon continues to silently admire your work of him. You captured his features so well; the colors were so nice to look at, the pose, the lighting... it was so beautiful. He always appreciates the time and effort you put into your artwork. Secretly, he has been going to your workspace at night to admire all of the work you've done. He couldn't help but laugh once he saw how red your face was.
"My sincere apologies, master. But if I may ask, what are you trying to say?" He asked, almost in a teasing matter. Oh, he knows.
You panicked, so overwhelmed by the situation at hand. A part of you is trying to come up with lies, but ultimately, you gave in.
After taking a deep breath, you officially admitted your true feelings. Well, in the simplest way possible. You couldn't help but cringe at what you've said. This is so embarrassing, you thought.
Lycaon smiled, looking back at the painting to caress the sides of the canvas. He chuckled once more.
"What an astonishing way to express such feelings towards someone. I must say, master, I'm truly impressed."
The thiren carefully puts the canvas on a small table next to him, then he walks towards you. Gently grabbing your hand.
"As for what are my thoughts regarding all of this," he then proceeds to kiss the back of your hand. You jumped to his action, watching every move he made. He looked back at you softly.
There you heard it—the words that'd make you fall to the ground instantly.
"I'd be delighted to be more than an attendant for you, my dear."
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1111jenx · 2 years ago
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— synastry & composite charts notes💘🤍💘
navi: masterlist I — masterlist II hiii angels👼🏻it's been a while since my last astro post on here, thought I'd drop by with a lil surprise:) enjoy babes🤍
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💘 8th house synastry: A deep and mystical connection, a dance of two souls intertwined. Undoubtedly, this has to be some of the most intense relationships I have observed, yet not necessarily in the way people might think. It goes beyond the surface, beyond the mundane, beyond the small-talk. Sex, death, and other's resources are only the tip of the iceberg. This is about transformation, rebirth, and regeneration. The 8th house is a place where secrets reside, and the planet person might unknowingly tap into that well of darkness within the 8th house person. It's a profound and sometimes frightening journey, but it's also one of the most transformative. The planet person, depending on which planet of theirs, entering the 8th house person's life can open them up like no other, exposing them to their deepest desires, fears, and longings.
If 4th house synastry is referred to as each other's soft spot, then 8th house synastry is each other's weak spot. Romantic or platonic, these relationships are often karmic, acting as a bind between the two individuals, for better or for worse. There's an unspoken depth that pervades the connection, a knowingness that transcends words. It's the ultimate "one stare is all it takes" kind of placement, where even a simple glance can send shivers down one's spine.
In the end, the 8th house synastry is not for the faint of heart, but for those who dare to delve into the mysteries of the soul, it's a journey worth taking. For it's in the darkness that we find the light, and it's in the intensity of these relationships that we find our true selves.
💘 Moon-Pluto aspects synastry/composite chart: If you've followed my blog for a while, you'll know that I don't strongly dislike any placement or aspect, for I believe we must observe the entire charts to draw conclusions before anything else. Yet, there is one aspect that leaves me in awe, time and time again: Moon-Pluto aspects in relationships. They speak of a connection that goes beyond the superficial, beyond the ordinary, beyond the mundane.
In the depths of their intimacy, there's a touch of mystery, a hint of secrecy, as if they share a bond that's known only to them. In the composite chart, this aspect can be a blessing, for it allows both parties to bare their souls in front of each other, to be raw and authentic, to embrace the vulnerability that comes with true connection.
But there's a caveat, for softer aspects such as the trine and sextile can approach this intimacy with a gentle touch, allowing the connection to grow slowly and steadily. Whereas the harsher aspects, the conjunctions, squares, and oppositions, may ignite a fire that burns bright and hot, causing one or both partners to be wary of the immense intensity that they feel.
Moon-Pluto aspects in relationships are definitely not for everyone, but they can lead to a transformation that's both profound and life-changing. These aspects symbolize a journey towards embracing one's innermost fears and desires, facing the shadows within oneself, and coming out on the other side with a newfound sense of strength and authenticity.
While it may be challenging, the rewards of such an experience can be tremendous. Through the intensity and rawness of the connection, one may find healing, growth, and a deep understanding of the human experience. It's a journey that requires courage, vulnerability, and a willingness to confront the unknown, but for those who embark on it, the rewards can be truly magnificent.
💘 Venus-Pluto aspects synastry: When Venus and Pluto align, their love burns with a fiery intensity, drawing them ever deeper into the mysteries of the heart. Pluto, with its insatiable hunger for truth and transformation, brings a potent energy to the table, stirring up a storm of questions and revelations.
Their relationship is a journey of discovery, a never-ending quest to uncover the hidden depths of each other's being. They crave knowledge of the past, eager to explore the shadows and secrets that have shaped their lives and their loves.
For them, love is a drug, a heady elixir that leaves them yearning for more. Their passion is all-consuming, a fierce and unyielding force that binds them together in ways that defy explanation.
Their obsession with each other is both beautiful and terrifying, a force that drives them to explore the depths of their connection, even as it challenges their preconceptions of what love truly means. But with every step they take together, they discover new facets of themselves and each other, delving ever deeper into the mysteries of the heart.
💘 Sun-Mars aspects synastry: The moment they meet, the attraction between them is electric, a spark that ignites a fire in their hearts. Soft aspects between their Sun and Mars create an effortless harmony, a sense of deep understanding and mutual support that draws them together with an irresistible force.
But for those with harsher aspects, their connection is a battlefield, a clash of egos that sparks tension and desire in equal measure. Sun and Mars are like two lions circling each other, each daring the other to make a move.
Their competitive spirits are brought out in full force, as they push each other to new heights of passion and desire. For Mars, the Sun is the ultimate challenge, a force to be reckoned with that can bring out the best - and worst - in them.
But through it all, there is a deep sense of respect and admiration, a recognition that they are two sides of the same coin, bound together by the fire that burns within them. Their love is a force to be reckoned with, a connection that challenges them to be their best selves and to embrace the full power of their passion and desire.
💘 Gemini Rising composite: Gemini Rising couple is a true delight, their energy infectious and their presence enchanting. They radiate a lightness and joy that fills the room, sparking lively conversations and bringing smiles to the faces of all those around them.
Their connection is a deep and profound one, built on a foundation of trust and open communication. They tell each other everything, sharing their hopes, dreams, fears, and secrets with a fearless abandon.
With their 3rd house in Leo, they embody a regal energy that commands attention and respect. Their style and energy are often very similar, a reflection of their deep connection and shared perspective on life.
Their reunion feels almost spiritual, a cosmic meeting of two souls destined to be together. One partner may take on the role of protector, fiercely guarding the other with a love that knows no bounds.
Despite their occasional heated moments, they speak of each other with the highest regard, always fearlessly protective of their partner's honor and dignity.
💘 Cancer Rising composite: This is one of my favorites, whether it's a romantic or platonic connection! They have a way of making it seem like they've known each other for ages, their bond so deep and comfortable that it feels like home.
They may bicker like siblings, but it's all in good fun - and it's clear that they love each other deeply. There's a sense of ease and familiarity that just makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
They can be in each other's company for hours without saying a word, content in the quiet and the simple pleasure of just being together. And when they do speak, they offer each other advice and guidance, especially when it comes to style and aesthetics.
There's something so special about this connection, something that just feels right. They may not have known each other for long, but it feels like they were always meant to be in each other's lives. They are the ultimate squad, the perfect team, and they bring so much joy and fun wherever they go.
💘 Leo Rising composite: This connection is fiercely possessive in the best way possible. They love to show their affection publicly and make it known to the world that they belong to each other. It's a feeling of pure belonging, an unbreakable bond that just feels so right.
It's one of the hardest relationships to let go of, a connection that just feels too good to be true. They radiate an air of perfection, and those around them can't help but be captivated by their dynamic. They may keep their relationship private once they've settled down, but when they're together, it's electric.
Their pain and struggles may be hidden from the outside world, but within their bond, they find solace and comfort in each other's arms. With Leo Rising in the composite, they were made for each other, their love a force to be reckoned with. And they love to spoil each other, showing off their love for the world to see.
💘 Libra Rising composite: This is the couple that everyone assumes has had a crush on each other since the day they met. There's just something about them that makes it so easy to tell that they were meant to be together. They have a natural ability to enhance each other's aesthetic and just make each other look even better.
When you see them in public, they come off as very friendly and approachable. They love to flirt with each other and with others, and they just exude a harmonious energy that draws people to them. They're like the parents of their group, always there to lend an ear and offer sage advice when others need it.
With Libra Rising in the composite, this couple radiates a unique energy that's impossible to ignore. People are drawn to them like moths to a flame, and they just look so good together. Depending on the composite Venus sign, they may have a more refined or eclectic style, but either way, they're always turning heads and making others green with envy.
💘 Leo placements composite: This is the ride or die couple that everyone wishes they had in their life. When I see this placement in a chart, I know that with time, there will be an unyielding loyalty between them that's hard to come by these days. Whether it's a romantic or platonic relationship, they exude confidence, playfulness, and above all, fun!
They're not afraid to argue or stand up for what they believe in, but what I love about Leo in composite is that they always have a deep respect for each other. It's almost like they know that at the end of the day, they're on the same team and nothing can break their bond.
For the platonic ones, they have a sibling-like energy that's just so endearing to witness. They'll have each other's back through thick and thin, and you know that they'll always be there to lift each other up when times get tough. Whether they're out on the town or just chilling at home, they radiate a sense of loyalty and camaraderie that's truly exciting to be around.
💘 Taurus placements composite: This placement evokes a sense of earthy Venusian intimacy, where mutual reliance and devotion reign supreme. They are like two rooted trees intertwined, weathering any storm that comes their way with steadfast support for each other. The sensuality they share is a true feast for the senses, with each touch and embrace sending shivers down their spines. Their connection is a thing of beauty, a symphony of love and sensuality that fills their hearts with warmth and contentment.
💘 Uranus 7th house composite: Long-distance and medium-distance relationships often display this pattern. While there is no set rule, this relationship style can be quite distinct. Depending on other astrological factors, they may contact each other spontaneously after long periods of silence. It is not uncommon for these relationships to have an undefined label, but the connection remains strong. This relationship is often characterized by a sense of telepathy.
💘 Uranus 5fth house composite: Couples with this placement breathe freedom. Their love is like a wildflower, unconfined by societal norms and conventions. Each partner allows the other to thrive in their own social circles and cherishes the moments of intimacy that come in unexpected bursts. Though their relationship may seem unconventional to some, it is a beautiful and unique expression of love that blooms and flourishes in its own way.
💘 Mars 12th house composite/synastry: This placement can be a bit tricky, as it can swing between playful banter and a more serious, spiritual connection. In the former, the couple may have a lighthearted approach to disagreements, perhaps avoiding confrontation and maintaining harmony. However, in the latter, this placement can signify a soulmate bond, a deep and meaningful connection that transcends the physical realm. Despite the challenges, these couples are able to navigate their differences and find a sense of peace and understanding in each other.
💘 Mars 8th house composite: Passion ignites and they are drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. They long for closeness, craving the touch of the other's skin, desiring to be in each other's embrace constantly. A fiery, intimate connection that is hard to resist. Beware of the green-eyed monster that may rear its head and cause strife in the relationship. But with the right alignment of Mars, a healing energy can emerge and transform the bond into an unbreakable bond of trust and devotion.
💘 Mercury 3rd house synastry: This is the kind of couple that is always laughing and having fun together. Their sense of humor is unmatched, and they just get each other on a whole different level. They can spend hours talking about anything and everything, from the trivial to the profound, and they never seem to run out of things to say.
Their intellectual connection is truly amazing, and they just have a way of understanding each other's minds that is truly unique. From discussing aliens to politics, they can handle any topic with ease and always keep each other engaged. It's a match made in heaven, and it's so much fun to watch them just enjoy each other's company.
💘 Mercury 5fth house synastry: Ah, one of my favorites! There's nothing like seeing two people who can laugh and have fun conversations with each other. It's like watching two stars colliding, creating a beautiful display of light and energy. The Mercury person is especially enamored with the Fifth House person's mind, finding it special and unique. They can't help but give them starry eyes as they speak. In turn, the Fifth House person finds Mercury's communication style to be very slick and attractive. It's a cosmic connection, a meeting of minds that is both fun and exciting.
💘 Mercury 8th house synastry: An intriguing and intense dynamic, often marked by a deep understanding and emotional support between the partners. The Mercury person has a unique insight into the innermost thoughts and desires of the 8th house person, particularly when it comes to matters of intimacy and vulnerability. There's a magnetic quality to their conversations, as they both crave depth and substance in their interactions. In this relationship, superficiality is simply not an option. Over time, the 8th house partner is drawn in by Mercury's irresistible charm and wit, and is willing to reveal their deepest secrets and desires. Mercury's words have a profound impact on the 8th house's psyche, making this placement a powerful indicator of a potential soulmate connection. And let's not forget the dirty talk potential, which adds an extra layer of seduction to this already alluring combination.
💘 Moon 4th house synastry: In each other's arms, they find a sense of peace, like they've finally come home. While their connection runs deep, they may also awaken memories of past hurts, drawing them closer in empathy and understanding. These are the ones who care for each other's every need, nurturing each other's physical and emotional well-being. In this loving embrace, they share both joy and sorrow, weaving a bond that feels like family and lingers in the heart forever.
💘 Moon 9th house synastry: Under the stars, this placement sings a love song of faith and trust, a bond that's hard to sever. Moon person's intuition finds a home in the open-minded, philosophical 9th house person, who in turn feels seen and heard in the presence of the Moon's nurturing embrace. Their love transcends boundaries, be it geographical or cultural, and their connection is not just supportive, but also unconditional. It's a love that validates and accepts all the thoughts, feelings, and ideas of their partner, a love that's both inspiring and uplifting.
💘 5fth house stellium composite: This placement is known for its potential to bring some baby fever to the table! When these two come together, it's like fireworks exploding and they can't get enough of each other. The relationship exudes a playful, childlike energy that is infectious to those around them. But be warned - this can also mean that their fights can be just as intense as their love, often stemming from their deep-seated jealousy. All in all, this is a pairing that's sure to leave a lasting impression.
💘 1st house stellium composite chart: Time seems to stand still as they hold each others hands. A union that feels like destiny, a long-awaited reunion of two halves of a whole. They speak a language of their own, finishing each other's thoughts and sentences effortlessly. Every touch, every caress, feels like a deeply profound connection. It's not just about physical intimacy, but an understanding that transcends the superficial. This is the soulmate energy, the kind of love that leaves them wondering, "Where have you been all my life?"
💘 Venus 2nd house synastry/composite: A romantic dance of give and take, this placement sings of love that is nurturing and indulgent. There is a deep need to shower each other with gifts and care, but caution must be taken not to let materialism overshadow their connection. They find joy in providing for one another, and both are lifted up by the other's affection and attention. Behind closed doors, their passion blossoms into a slow and steady burn, where sensual touches and intimate moments reign supreme.
💘 Venus 6th house synastry: Intriguingly, couples with this synastry seem to be entwined in a tapestry of love and affection. They have a knack for creating beauty in the mundane and infusing everyday life with romance. Their love story is not a fairy tale, but a practical one, with the two of them seamlessly integrating into each other's daily routines. They may even find joy in doing chores together. The 6th house partner adores Venus' constant mindfulness and dedication to them, making them feel appreciated and cherished in every moment.
💘 Venus 10th house synastry: In this synastry, a beautiful harmony blooms between two souls. They are each other's pillars of support, always standing by each other's side in times of success and failure. The 10th house person, taken aback by Venus's deep understanding of their goals and dreams, finds solace in their unconditional support. Venus, in turn, cherishes the 10th house person as a prized possession, basking in their admiration and attention. The house person's serious and committed approach to life appeals to Venus's heart, allowing them to thrive under their care. Together, they build a love that is grounded in mutual respect, support, and admiration.
💘 Scorpio Venus composite: In the realm of love, Scorpio's traditional Mars energy now meets the enchanting grace of Venus. A potent mix of complexity, passion, and challenge, this placement creates a bond that is both powerful and mysterious.
Couples with this placement share a deep obsession, not just on a physical level but also an emotional one. Their desire for each other is all-consuming, a deep-seated need to connect on every possible level. Eye contact is a potent tool for them, a way to communicate their desire and passion without saying a word.
Their love is shrouded in secrecy, a relationship that's known only to the two of them. Their feelings run deep, but they may not be expressed at first, requiring time and patience to unfold.
As their connection deepens, they become more and more entwined, their bond unbreakable and unwavering. For both parties, this love will challenge their preconceptions of what love truly means and requires, but the rewards of true connection are worth every step of the journey.
💘 Virgo Venus composite: Their love is a journey of growth and self-discovery, a path that's filled with endless possibility and wonder. They are both committed to learning and evolving, constantly pushing each other to be the best version of themselves.
Their love is reminiscent of Scorpio Venus, with its unsaid feelings and profound depth, but it's also uniquely its own. For them, love is not just about passion and intensity, but about the simple and peaceful moments that make life worth living.
In their relationship, they discover that love can be found in the small things, in the gentle gestures and quiet moments of connection. They remind us that love is not just about the grand gestures or dramatic displays of affection, but about the everyday acts of kindness that we show each other.
Their love story is one that's hard to forget, a testament to the power of gentle love and the beauty of finding someone who truly understands and accepts us for who we are. They remind us that love is not just about what we say or do, but about who we are and how we show up for each other, day after day.
💘 Cancer Moon composite: Their love is a haven, a sanctuary in a world that can often feel chaotic and uncertain. They create a space for each other that's safe and secure, a place where they can be vulnerable and authentic without fear of judgment or rejection.
In each other's presence, they find solace and comfort, a feeling of coming home that's both familiar and reassuring. They understand each other on a level that goes beyond words, their hearts and souls intertwined in a dance that's both beautiful and sacred.
Emotions are shared freely in this space, for they know that true connection requires the courage to be vulnerable and the willingness to listen with an open heart. They hold space for each other's pain and joy, their love serving as a beacon of light in the darkest of times.
For them, love is also an anchor, a tether to the world that keeps them grounded and centered. They remind us that in a world that's constantly changing, the one constant we can rely on is the love that we share with those closest to us. It's a love that transcends the ordinary, a love that's both unique and eternal.
💘 Sagittarius Moon composite: They are more than just lovers, they are best friends, their bond rooted in a deep and authentic connection that transcends the ordinary. They share a rare and beautiful kind of love, one that's built on a foundation of laughter, growth, and exploration.
They are each other's biggest cheerleaders, pushing each other to become the best version of themselves and encouraging each other to explore the depths of their potential. Together, they find joy in the pursuit of higher learning, embracing the world with open hearts and curious minds.
Their love is a journey of discovery, one that's filled with new experiences and adventures, one that makes you feel alive. They indulge in the magic of the world together, savoring each moment with a sense of wonder and excitement. Despite their need for individual freedom, they never tire of each other's company.
They remind us that the best kind of love is one that's rooted in friendship, in a deep and authentic connection that goes beyond the superficial. For in the heart of true friendship lies the key to unlocking the full potential of the human experience.
💘 Aquarius Moon composite: Their relationship is built on a foundation of mutual respect and understanding, a deep appreciation for each other's unique qualities and preferences. They're both highly idealistic emotionally, driven by big dreams and a desire to make a difference in the world.
In their partnership, they recognize each other's potential and provide unwavering support and encouragement to help each other achieve their goals. They approach matters of the heart with a sense of clarity and precision, able to articulate their emotions in a way that's both logical and deeply felt.
Their love is a journey of discovery and growth, one that requires patience, dedication, and a willingness to see the world through each other's eyes. They understand that a healthy relationship requires a deep sense of empathy and the ability to communicate effectively, even in times of stress or conflict.
For them, love is not just a feeling, but a choice, a commitment to each other's growth and well-being. They remind us that a successful relationship requires hard work and dedication, but that the rewards of true love are worth every effort.
💘 Ascendant 10th house synastry: Mutual admiration is the foundation of their connection, a deep and genuine appreciation for each other that goes beyond surface-level attraction. They may have met in a public setting, amidst the noise and chaos of the world around them, but their hearts were drawn together in a way that felt inevitable.
Perhaps they had heard about each other before their encounter, but it was in that moment that they truly saw each other for who they were. Two individuals, each with their own unique qualities, coming together in a way that felt natural and effortless.
In each other's presence, the world falls away, and they're left with a deep and profound connection that speaks to the power of true chemistry. They remind us that sometimes, the most meaningful connections can be found in the most unexpected of places, and that it's the quality of the connection that matters most.
💘 Ascendant 11th house synastry: There's a magic that surrounds them, a feeling of ease that envelops them from the moment they meet. Conversations flow effortlessly between them, like a gentle stream meandering through the forest, each thought and idea sparking a new connection. They find a friend in each other, someone who understands them on a deep and profound level.
In the 11th house, they find a higher ideal, a connection that transcends the ordinary and reaches for the stars. They've found their "ideal type," a partner who shares their values, their passions, and their dreams. It's a feeling of coming home, of finding someone who sees the world through the same lens.
This placement also signifies the power of online encounters, a reminder that connections can be made in the most unexpected of places. They may have met through the digital realm, but their bond is as real and tangible as any other.
Together, they embody the beauty of true connection, of finding someone who understands and accepts them for who they are. They remind us that the world is full of magic and wonder, and that sometimes, all we need to do is open our hearts to find it.
💘 Sun in 1st house composite: Their love is a force of nature, a vibrant and pulsating energy that radiates from their very being. To them, the relationship means everything, and they pour their hearts and souls into tending and perfecting it. They're like two flames dancing together, their attraction burning brightly, igniting the world around them.
In each other's embrace, they find a home, a place of safety and belonging. They bring out the best in each other, inspiring and motivating one another to be the best version of themselves. They're like two sides of the same coin, perfectly complementing each other, and yet each unique in their own way.
In the presence of this couple, others cannot help but feel the intensity of their love. It's a love that's all-encompassing, leaving no room for anyone else. They are inseparable, two halves of a whole, their energy intertwining in a dance that's both beautiful and mesmerizing.
They're a super expressive couple, unafraid to show their true selves to the world. Their love is unapologetic and raw, a testament to the power of vulnerability and authenticity. They remind us that love is not just a feeling, but a choice, a commitment, and a journey of growth and self-discovery.
💘 Sun in 7th house composite: Together, they are a symphony of souls, each note blending seamlessly into the other, creating a melody that resonates with the universe. It's a rare and beautiful thing to witness, for they complement each other in ways that go beyond words. From what I observe, these couples see a future with each other, a future that's intertwined with love, trust, and commitment.
Even if they don't express it outwardly, there's an unspoken bond that ties them together, a feeling of wanting to keep the other close that's ever-present. Publicly, they strive to be the "ideal couple," one that's admired and emulated, and they're often sought after for their relationship advice.
But there's a seriousness to this placement, a need to formalize things with time, to solidify their commitment to each other. They understand that relationships are not built on fleeting moments, but on the foundation of trust, communication, and dedication. And they're willing to put in the work to make it last.
In this partnership, there's also a desire to grow individually, to bring more to the table, to be the best version of themselves for each other. For they know that in committing to each other, they're committing to a journey of growth, of becoming, of evolving together.
The themes of commitment and trust run deep in this placement, anchoring them to each other with an unbreakable bond. For they know that in each other's embrace, they've found a home for their hearts.
love,
saint jenx🪐
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© 2023 Saintz Jenx All Rights Reserved
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slytherinshua · 3 months ago
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BOYNEXTDOOR WITH KIDS !
summary. you invited your boyfriend to help you babysit! here's how he does. genre. fluff. warnings. kids but nothing else. not proofread. pairing. boynextdoor x fem!reader. wc. 675. request. originally a request from lovely 💗 anon for bonedo x baby fever gf reader. i kinda tweaked it a bit to be bnd with kids but implied that reader still has baby fever which is why they babysit <33 a/n. ugh i wish these were a bit better idk i tried my best!! i literally started writing it out as baby fever reader but then i was stumped how to do it differently for all 6 of them so... i hope this is alright ??? net. @onedoornet
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PARK SUNGHO ミ 박성호
Sungho would do so well with the little girls you babysit. He would be so down to have a princess tea party with them, and they immediately are in love with him from that moment on. I can see them berating you two with questions about your relationship, especially if the girls were around 4 or 5. They successfully get Sungho to admit that yes he’s in love with you and yes he does plan to marry you someday (if he said no then the girls would have said true love was dead). They plead you to invite Sungho over again to play because they had such a good time. 
LEE SANGHYEOK ミ 이상혁
Riwoo is hesitant. He has no idea whether the kids will like him, much less if he would be any good with them. He hasn’t had much opportunity to be around children or babies, so he’s very cautious. He lets them take the lead, but soon finds that it’s easy to entertain them by challenging them to a dance battle or playing just dance lol. He’d probably win over the kids favour by buying them donut holes as well. Overall, he’s pleasantly surprised at how well it went, and maybe he understands your chronic baby fever just a little more now.
MYUNG JAEHYUN ミ 명재현
Jaehyun is best with little kids ages 3 and up. His energy matches them so well and he loves to play with them. His imagination also matches that of a little kid, so nothing is out of reach. Whether it’s playing with toys, a board game, or play pretend, he is fully invested in it. Every time he hangs out with the kids you take care of, he ends the day completely exhausted. But you know he had so much fun with the little ones. You just might have to recharge him with a long cuddle sessions cause he swears 6 hours of dance practice is less intensive than 1 afternoon of babysitting.  
HAN DONGMIN ミ 한동민
Surprisingly he is the number 1 match for your baby fever. He adores babies, especially the infants that you babysit. He loves to hold them, and they love to be held by him even more. His calm demeanour is very soothing for them. I could see any baby falling asleep in his lap super easily. His prior experience with his sister also helps. He knows how to be gentle and patient with kids, and really understands exactly what they need. In his mind there really isn’t anything cuter than babies :( He talks in a slight baby voice to them as well, he really can’t help it. 
KIM DONGHYUN ミ 김동현
I think Leehan would struggle the most. If there’s no common ground between him and the kids, it’ll be hard. But, if any of the kids you babysit are just slightly as weird as Leehan, good luck trying to separate them. I think he would definitely love to draw with the kids, but make sure he is not making any food for them. He’d be unable to say no to whatever they wanted, and they'd either get sick on sweets or sick from impulsively wanting to try his fish food. Then he'll probably be banned from ever going near them again by their parents. Although he doesn’t really get the appeal of little kids, he does admit that it was fun at times to hang out with them. He leaves the babysitting job to you, though.
KIM WOONHAK ミ 김운학
Woonhak is so good with kids omg!! At the beginning, he matches their energy so well, but he crashes so fast as well. He would accidentally make jokes that the kids take entirely seriously and end up having to comfort them when they cry. But, despite his mistakes, he’s great at rallying all the kids and being the leader for group activities. If you were babysitting 3+ kids at once, he could definitely help keep track of them all and keep them busy. He doesn’t feel confident with babies, though, as he’s worried he might do something wrong. They’re just so fragile and definitely outside of his comfort zone. 
↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,
@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @blossominghunnie,,
@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,
@wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @emmylksblog,,
@talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,,
@hrtsvivis,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @kristianities,, @gong-fourz,,
@nonononranghaee
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vilhelios · 9 months ago
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— WAIT FOR ME / I'M STILL SOMEWHERE ;
( you're getting older without me and i'm getting scared ) ; in which rafayel still hopes that there's a life where this works — where you do not crush his bleeding heart in your hands, & he still loves you despite, despite, despite.
cw: not beta read; spoilers for abysswalker rafayel's "sea of golden sand" myth, "fragrant dreams" card, "siren's song" anecdote, & main story ch. 7; angst ; some fluff ; mentions of blood, injury & death ; theories + headcanons about mc & rafayel's past lives ; kinda pretentious rafayel lore analysis ( can't help it, i just love him a lot! )
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"RAFAYEL, do you think we're lovers in every universe?"
in the stillness of the night, as he mindlessly draws designs on your skin with his thumb, rafayel lies through his teeth: "yeah. i'm sure we are."
it's all he can manage. how do you tell your lover—your dear, sweet muse, whose presence makes the sea of your heart ebb and swell—that you've wondered the same thing lifetimes ago, and know the answer with bittersweet certainty? you continue talking about an article you read, in the morning—something about "consciousness energy fluctuations" and "that feeling of deja vu" and "soulmates."
and rafayel wonders, humming along to your rambling, if that's what you two are: soulmates.
"i wonder what we're like." you sigh, burrowing your head into the warmth of his chest. surely you can hear the rapid thrumming of his heart—he can't help it, the organ so helplessly weak in your presence. "you're the most creative man i know; got any ideas?"
"i think," rafayel starts, runs his fingers through your hair, "there's a life where i'm a merman, you're the human i've fallen deeply in love with, and the barrier between the waves and the shoreline is all that's stopping us."
rafayel remembers being younger, lifetimes ago. he remembers swimming upstream, through a little river that becomes a smaller creek, settling by your quaint home. he remembers playing you a song on his flute, an elegy for lemuria that became your song. he still remembers your head peeking out from the window and the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen staring down at him. you were like sunflecks dancing upon the water's surface—dazzling—and he, denizen of the deep dark sea, couldn't help but fall in love. he gave you his heart, his blood, his voice.
"hmm... reminds me of an old fairy tale." you press a kiss to the beauty mark on his chest, your lips curving into a smile against his skin. right above where his heart is, where the proof of your pact would shine bright. "do you think you'd have gotten a pair of legs and we'd live happily ever after on land?"
"of course i would've." rafayel smiles.
(he does not think about the way his voice grew hoarse as he sung lemuria's elegy. he does not think about the dagger he'd clutched so tightly in his hidden hand, as you approached him on the shore. he does not think about the hug, the warmth of your body making his resolve flutter. the warm blood on his hands, in the water, seeping from the heart he once loved and now carved out and cradled. he does not think about returning to a ruined lemuria, everything he's ever loved ripped away from him in a night.)
"then i like that one. what about another? knowing how we quarrel, do you think we were royalty hailing from opposing kingdoms?"
"hmm, close. i'd say that i'm an assassin, sneaking into your lovely highness's bedroom window."
"hah! i can see that." his heart flutters when he hears you giggle. rafayel wishes he could trap that beautiful sound inside a conch shell, it almost seemed possible, the way it felt like molten gold—sunlight. "i'd leave the windows open just so you'd have an easier time coming in."
"glad to know you'd still fall for my charms." he finds it in himself to smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "even if it might not be the brightest idea, dummy."
"hmph, but if we still loved each other then, you wouldn't kill me." your hand reaches upwards to cup his cheek, a thumb aimlessly stroking comforting lines across his skin. his breath hitches at how naturally it comes to you. "you'd fall for my charms too."
(why wouldn't it? you've done it so many times before, as you—dear highness of philos—gingerly removed his mask. he, who was destined to carve out your heart; and he, who could not bear to do so, who fell apart in the warmth of your hold. any hatred he'd held in his heart for the humans that desecrated his home —beautiful, sacred lemuria— dissolved with each ripple of the lake you both had danced across on that silent night. how could he ever hurt his beloved, who in another life he'd devoted entire oceans to?)
"yeah." he breathes out, almost a chuckle. "yeah, i guess i would, your highness."
"rafa?" you murmur, words slurred with the call of sleep, ushered in by him running a hand through your hair. "i really hope that we're soulmates even if it's in the silliest lives you could ever think up. do you?"
(and he hopes for more, a case study in greed. he hopes for the most blissful lives with you—where he's the receding sea and you are the sands of the shore, or you are an anemone polyp and he is the rock you've decided to settle upon, or he is the deepsea fish that looks longingly upon the warmth of the sunflecks that dance upon the water. he hopes there's a life where this whole thing works: where you do not crush his bleeding heart in your hands, & he still loves you despite, despite, despite.)
and rafayel smiles, presses the umpteenth kiss tonight to your forehead, watches you draw closer into his hold. and then he whispers his little wish against your skin, as soft as a siren singing lullabies to a sailor:
"yeah. i hope so too."
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a/n: on this lovely valentine's day i offer the rafa stans: angst 🤩 the ending was a bit rushed because i... was no longer in an angsty mood. this fic is very much so a product of a time where i knew less of rafa's lore (see: did not finish the myth) so there may be some lore inaccuracies ... please do listen to berenstein by the band camino!!! l&ds' plot feels like an amalgamation of some of my favourite songs (berenstein, heartbeat by bts, isohel by EDEN)... and it's just such a good plot so far. please send me rafa lore stuff/general thoughts bc i'd love to try and play around with some of them (i have an idea for his birthday fic already) ,,, i'd love and appreciate you immensely ♡
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ginnsbaker · 7 months ago
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (7/?)
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Part summary: Six weeks later, Leigh decides to throw herself a birthday party.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.600+ | Warnings : None | Author's Note: Just a reminder that this doesn't strictly follow canon events. Borrowed some elements from the actual birthday episode, but it's going to go very differently for us :) Enjoy!
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI
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Six weeks later
“Hey! Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Leigh’s mom calls out from the kitchen as Leigh hurries down the stairs. She runs straight into Amy’s arms, a ball of energy, drawing bewildered looks from her mom and sister. Ever since Matt died, they are used to Leigh either being too quiet or too snarky. Today, of all days, they were expecting her to be something else much worse. But it seems they're mistaken as Leigh turns to Jules, yanks her in close, and kisses her hair.
Jules and Amy share a look. To say this as an interesting development would be an understatement. It's her birthday—her first one without Matt, who had been at the heart of her celebrations for the last decade. They hope Leigh finds some happiness, truly, but these past several months have taught them to temper their expectations.
They keep their silent exchange to themselves, watching as Leigh picks up a croissant and takes a heart bite out of it, her face lit up with the widest smile. “Happy birthday,” Jules grins, pushing a small envelope towards Leigh. “Got something for you.”
“Thank you!” Leigh exclaims. She eagerly opens the envelope to find a bunch of homemade coupons, each promising some sort of favor from Jules, good for the next year. They range from “Will listen to your rants for 30 minutes, no interruptions” to “I will restart the book club you tried to get me and mom to do and actually read the books this time.”
Laughing, Leigh flips through them. “These are brilliant, Jules. Might have to use one today,” she says, already thinking about which one she'll cash in first. Then, she pulls Jules in a bear hug, as if it’s the most exquisite present she’s ever gotten in her lifetime. 
“You okay?” Leigh asks when she notices Amy staring at her.
Jules gives their mom a warning look as Amy struggles to come up with a response. “Nothing, I just… I didn’t think you’d be doing quite so well today. That’s all.”
“I didn’t either but we all make choices and I’m choosing to have a great birthday. So, let’s do this thing!” Leigh says in a manner that Jules feels too over the top. Amy starts laying out the plans for the evening and Leigh has a blank look by the time she finishes running them through it.
“I think I want a party,” Leigh announces. It’s met with astonishment, as if it’s the last thing her family’s expecting to hear.
“You do?” Amy.
“A party?” Jules.
Leigh isn’t perturbed by their reactions. “I do. I want a party,” she confirms. She delights at the dumb look on their faces as she reiterates, “Tonight. I want a big party.”
-
“You’re not having a big party.”
Danny calls her up the minute he gets her Facebook invite. He's partly furious about receiving the invite through Facebook, given that they’re “kind of seeing each other”, and partly incredulous because he couldn’t believe she’s making plans on her birthday without considering the fact that they are “kind of seeing each other”.
Leigh, phone wedged between her shoulder and ear as she flips through a recipe book on her kitchen counter, rolls her eyes so hard she worries they might stick that way. 
“Well, yes, Danny, that's exactly what I'm doing,” she fires back matter-of-factly.
Danny's frustration simmers on the other end of the line. He had already made plans, not bothering to consult Leigh because he assumed that their day would be spent together—privately, just the two of them.
“You didn’t think I’d have something planned?” he asks, more hurt than angry.
“Why would I think that?”
“Because we’re dating, Leigh,” he says, appalled that he needs to remind her. Leigh takes a second, biting her lip. Maybe it was a bit inconsiderate that she didn’t consider Danny when she impulsively decided she wanted a big celebration. But that flicker of guilt is short lived. 
After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she’s actually excited for something, the last time she thought, I deserve to be happy. 
“Yeah, well, I can still do what I want, Danny,” she retorts.
“Now you’re acting like a child,” he snaps.
Leigh feels a flash of anger, then something else—determination. “Maybe so. Come to the party or not, I don’t care. I'm going to have fun, Danny, with or without you.”
“Fine. Just don’t—”
Leigh doesn’t let him finish. With a press of a button, the call ends, his words cut off mid-sentence. Too often, she’s been criticized for not always following through with her declarations, but it's a different game when she's out to prove something.
-
Drew steps carefully around a minefield of clothes and makeup scattered on the floor to get to Leigh. She's curled up over her laptop, one leg propped on the chair, chin on her knee, in a posture that makes Drew wince. “For a fitness instructor, you're not exactly a poster child for back health,” he says, announcing himself to his best friend.
Leigh's head snaps up at Drew's voice, but instead of annoyance, a smirk quickly spreads across her face. “Good thing I'm not a fitness instructor anymore, then,” she says. Then she turns her attention back to her laptop as if he’s not there. Drew moves to sit on the edge of her bed, flops down on it like a ragdoll and stares at the cobwebs on the corners of the ceiling. 
“I know what you’ve been doing, Leigh,” he says.
Leigh is unphased, keeps typing. Then, as if she’s just heard his remark, mutters a distracted, “What have I been doing?”
“Avoiding. You've been avoiding writing about anything that's even remotely related to love or grief,” Drew says.
This time, Leigh stops typing. She sighs, a long, drawn-out exhale that seems to carry the weight of the world. “I’m busy, Drew. This gig is eating up all my time.” 
After leaving the Beautiful Beast, she took on a part-time job as a remote project manager. With Matt gone, she's left to deal with the debts they racked up together. She loved her studio job, really did, and wasn't fazed by the slim paycheck because it helped her mom out. Being surrounded by family has been a huge support (despite her occasional squabbles with Jules), but she knows she'll need to move out on her own again at some point. Ultimately, the pressing need for financial stability has pushed her to seek out better-paying opportunities.
Drew straightens up, leaning in with his elbows on his knees. “Bullshit.”
Leigh looks over her shoulder at him with mild irritation. “What do you want me to say, Drew?”
“You're meeting your weekly quota on other topics,” he points out. “Makes me wonder if bringing you back to the advice column was…premature.”
It sounds like a threat, but coming from him, she understands it as an early warning in case the senior editor begins to notice the issue. Leigh smiles thinly, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why does it even matter which topics I choose to engage with? First off, I'm collaborating with other writers now; it's not entirely my show anymore. Secondly, I've been doing a good job—”
“A great job, actually.”
Leigh tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. “So, what's the problem?”
“They're expecting you to lead on those topics because you've lived through them. They're looking for more authenticity in the pieces,” Drew explains. 
Leigh looks out the window, seemingly lost in thought, then shakes her head slightly. “What, you want me to write about how I started picking fights left and right after Matt died? Do you want me to detail my attempts at fixing his depression, as if it were as manageable as setting a broken bone?”
“You don’t have to delve into the most personal details.”
“It can’t be authentic if it’s not personal,” Leigh sneers. 
“Just think about it, okay?” Drew presses, a little desperately.
Leigh chews on the inside of her cheek, mulling it over. There's a whole part of her story she hasn't even touched on with him—the string of one-night stands with Danny, the way she's snapped at anyone who dared to disagree with her in the past few weeks. She's been on edge, not really liking the person she's been, and the thought of putting that version of herself out there for everyone to see is nothing short of humiliating. 
As a writer, she knows what to say, the same way a psychologist would know what to do even if they don’t need to have all sorts of human experience to help someone in every situation. But she also questions her right to preach behavior to others when she's far from having it all figured out herself. Regardless of her indecision, she knows Drew’s not going to drop it until she at least tells him she’ll consider.
“Fine,” she says, with a nod. “I'll sift through the inbox and tackle the ones I feel up to.”
“There you go, that's my girl,” Drew says, visibly relaxing. But then, a moment later, he feels a stab of guilt for showing up mostly because of work. It's been a while since they've hung out, their usual brunch dates falling through one after the other, and their daily chats have shriveled up to a few messages a week, with mostly just memes from Leigh that Drew hardly ever acknowledges. Eventually, Leigh just stopped sending them.
Drew fidgets, avoiding eye contact for a second before it dawns on him—he hasn't just been busy; he's been dodging Leigh on purpose ever since he popped the question to his partner. He was worried Leigh wouldn’t take the news well, considering the things she’s been going through. But if he’s being brutally honest with himself, a part of him just didn't want her grief to dampen his excitement. He was worried her sadness might dampen his spirits, and in a bid to preserve his own happiness, he’d left her out in the cold. He hadn't stopped to think that maybe he owed Leigh more than just her column.
“So, uh, how’s it going?” Drew asks cautiously.
“It’s going,” Leigh offers. Heartfelt talks aren't their thing, so Leigh decides to brush it off fast. “By the way, I'm throwing a birthday party for myself.” It comes out a bit more cheerfully than she feels.
“A party? That's great, Leigh!” Drew exclaims. “And hey, if you need help setting up or anything, just let me know.”
“Yeah,” she forces a smile, not as enthusiastic as she was about the idea at breakfast. “It's tonight, though. You're coming, right? And bring anyone fun you know.”
“Wow, OK,” Drew nods before his face morphs into a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, is this where you're planning to hard launch your new relationship? At your party?”
Leigh’s eyes sharpen into slits. “You know about Danny?”
“Jules told me,” he says.
Rolling her eyes, Leigh retorts, “Let me guess, she told you so you'd join the haters club?”
“Nah,” Drew shrugs, his smile bright and sunny. “Danny's okay, I guess. If you're happy, I'm happy.”
She hasn’t been not happy lately. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it sure beats being on her own. So maybe she is—or at least, on her way.
“Thanks, Drew,” she murmurs thoughtfully.
Drew makes himself comfy, chin in hand, looking like he's all set for one of their marathon catch-ups. "So, how did you and Danny even start? Tell me everything."
-
Leigh's trunk is a one-can band, banging and clanging with every turn. Her groceries create a beat, something to fill in the lack of sound in her car. It’s how she drives these days—in utter silence. Before, she wouldn't even think of heading out without the perfect playlist, which often took her an extra five to fifteen minutes after settling into the driver's seat. But these days, as soon as the key is in the ignition, she twists it and takes off, not even waiting for the car to warm up.
Organizing a party by herself (with Jules' indispensable assistance, of course) and extending invites to her entire Facebook friends list has turned into quite the ruse. She's seasoned enough to temper her expectations—knowing well that not everyone who RSVP'd “yes” will show, and that some who didn't bother to RSVP might just surprise her by showing up. So, she's stocked up on as much food as her sedan can hold.
While Leigh's mind wanders to what snacks to whip up and what sauces to pair them with, she accidentally ends up on a lane that forces a left turn instead of going straight. This little misstep means she's got to take the scenic route home, which, by pure coincidence, takes her right past your clinic's street.
Her heartbeat quickens, though it shouldn't. There's no reason for it. She hasn't seen you in a month, not since the night she made a bold declaration on her bedroom door.
Leigh never planned on actually liking you as a person. Initially, her motive was purely to get a closer look, to dissect what it was about you that caught Matt's eye, what you possessed that she lacked. However, the answer to that mystery didn't remain elusive for long after spending a little time with you. You had this kindness about you, soft and easy, something Leigh’s always found just out of her reach. She prides herself on being decent enough but next to you, she feels a bit more like sandpaper to your silk.
Matt was like that too—gentle, easygoing. Leigh is well aware of her own rough edges, her sharp corners that don't quite align with Matt's smoother ones—and, by extension, yours. You and Matt had more in common than just interests; you both saw and reacted to the world in similar ways. Finding out that you and Matt were alike in important ways, in ways she wasn't, is something she's still learning to cope with.
As she nears your clinic, her eyes instinctively search it out, a habit she can't seem to break. 
This time, her timing is impeccable; just as she glides by, you step outside with a puppy in your arms, licking your face all over. You catch sight of her car from a distance, and you couldn’t stop the surprise that flashes across your face. As she drives past, you give her a little wave, puppy still in tow. Leigh cracks a small smile, then throws on her aviators, maybe trying to hide a bit more than her eyes. She sneaks one last look in the rearview, catching you watching her car disappear down the street before you head back into the clinic.
-
As soon as she gets home and is safely out of the car, she opens her messages.
The last text you sent her says, “I'm sorry. I hope we can still be friends,” sent three days after the encounter in her bedroom. She didn't respond to it, and you didn't push any further or impose yourself on her.
She wishes she had at least reacted with a heart or sent a smiley face to your message. Maybe then, inviting you to her party tonight wouldn’t feel so awkward. Nevertheless, she manages to type out a quick invite and extends to you the courtesy of bringing a plus one, someone you believe would be good company.
Your response arrives within five seconds of her hitting send.
“Thank you, I'll be sure to drop by :)” - Y/N
Satisfied, Leigh sets her phone aside. Now, she can focus on making those Deviled eggs.
-
The dress she's pulled from Jules's closet is a bold choice: deep black with a plunging neckline and a hem that flirts with daring. It's sexy, but not quite Leigh's usual style—and that's exactly why she loves it. It clings to her in all the right places, promising a confidence that Leigh isn't entirely sure she feels. Her hair, which is normally pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, hangs loose and wavy. She tops off her outfit with a slick of red lipstick and layers of dark eyeliner. 
With about an hour to spare before her guests are due to arrive, Leigh decides it's the perfect time to follow through on a promise she made to Drew. She logs into the shared inbox of the advice column she co-manages with two other writers at Basically News. Leigh scrolls through the submissions, Drew’s words playing on repeat in her head. He had a point. Maybe people don't always need the right answers—answers she hardly uses herself. Perhaps what they really need is someone to affirm what they're already feeling, to say it's okay to follow their gut, to be themselves.
She reads an interesting entry from one EspressoEyes:
“Do you think it's too much for me to give a puppy to this woman I like? I'm not even sure she likes me back (or like me in general 😣), but it's her birthday, and I feel like a puppy could be exactly what she needs at this moment.”
Leigh reads the message, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. Personally, she muses, she'd welcome a puppy from just about anyone. But that's just her, especially with the rollercoaster of a year she's had—she's at a point where the gesture, no matter who it comes from, would be a welcome slice of joy.
Thinking it over, she starts replying, “A puppy is a big gesture—it can be an overwhelming gift for some. It might even be seen as too forward, especially in certain relationships.Yet, a gift is a gift. Sometimes, you need to just go for it, without apologies. If her feelings don't align, she'll let you know. She has to, because giving a puppy is essentially a love declaration, in case you hadn't realized. And who knows? She might feel the same about you. Just make sure she's actually up for the responsibility of a pet. They're for life, not just for birthdays.”
She signs off with her pen name—Gigi Herrel—a clever anagram of her name as it would have been had she taken Matt's last name in marriage: Leigh Greer. Though it never quite felt like her own. She only used it when she came back to Basically News in obeisance to his passing. Drew has granted her the autonomy to publish her responses without his oversight (“Just make sure your grammar is perfect,” he said), so Leigh doesn’t think twice before publishing her response.
Leigh moves on to browse through other submissions, this time, on those related to marriage and loss—the very subjects she promised Drew she would tackle. She’s been in those shoes, still feels like she's wearing them. With a deep breath, she clicks on one and dives right into it. Her first attempt at a response feels inadequate, prompting her to hit delete and start anew. This process repeats itself, one draft after another, until she has five versions sitting in front of her, none of which feel right. With a huff, she deletes them all.
Just then the doorbell rings, pulling her out of her advice-column vortex. Leigh glances around, momentarily disoriented. It takes her a moment to recall that there's a party happening downstairs, and she's meant to be enjoying herself.
-
She’s halfway down the stairs when Jules's eyes land on her. Leigh freezes, as if she’s been caught red-handed. “I…couldn’t find the coupon for borrowing your clothes.”
Jules just smirks and arches an eyebrow, taking in Leigh in her dress. “Oh please, as if I ever keep track. Besides, that was just gathering dust after my ‘slutty Halloween phase’ as you so lovingly called it.”
“Cool! Perfect!” Leigh says, ignoring the backhanded comment. Her focus immediately turns to the front door as another guest arrives. “Hey, Dad!” she calls out.
Leigh’s dad walks in with his partner, and she greets them with a warmth that's been rare these days. He hands her a large, beautifully wrapped box. Leigh grasps the gift with both hands, shaking it gently, much like a child on Christmas morning. She’s thanking them when an old friend from high school she hasn’t seen in forever walks through the door, a bottle of wine in hand. Her mom swoops in like a hawk, reminding everyone it's a dry party in support of Jules's sobriety, and the wine is swiftly traded for a mocktail.
For the next hour, the house fills up. Leigh finds herself out back, tending to snacks, when a small line of people forms to chat with her. They each ask if she’s doing okay, their condolences tucked neatly between cheerful birthday wishes. Leigh’s smiling, but it's so fake even she is not buying it, mentally blacklisting half of these people for next time.
Just when the parade of condolence callers is beginning to fray her patience, one of her actual favorite humans finally shows up, saving her mood from souring completely. Drew looks striking in a simple black polo shirt, so much so that it reminds Leigh of the time Matt got all jealous over him, until Leigh let him in on the secret that he plays for the other team.
He passes her a little envelope, his birthday offering—a gift card. Leigh’s barely expressed her thanks over the simple present when he jumps right into feedback on her latest advice column. 
“Read your puppy counsel on my way here. It felt a bit... casual, don’t you think?”
Leigh smirks up at him, arms crossed, the gift card crinkling between her forearms. “Just say it's terrible advice if that's what you mean.”
Drew purses his lips before relenting. “Fine. It was terrible advice.”
“Expect more of that if I tackle the stuff I’ve been avoiding. Still think it’s a good idea?” Leigh says, nodding like it’s exactly what she wants to hear. Drew lets out a sigh, swiftly steering the conversation away before their playful banter escalates into a disagreement. With Leigh, he knows all too well that the edge of an argument is always closer than it seems.
“Anyway, happy birthday, again,” he says, trying to lighten the mood again. “Ryan's tied up with work stuff, totally wiped, but he did wish you a happy birthday.”
Leigh’s face hardens slightly at the mention of Ryan. She’s been harboring this nagging thought that Ryan dislikes her, a suspicion fueled by a criticism she once shared with Drew in confidence, suspecting Drew might have passed it along. Drew, seeing her expression change, doesn’t rush to correct her assumption.
“He hates me,” Leigh concludes before Drew can even get a word out.
“He doesn’t—”
“What I don’t understand is why you couldn’t have kept it between us?” she demands, feeling betrayed.
“Because Ryan’s my person. I tell him everything. That’s how being in a marriage works,” he says, but the moment he sees Leigh's face fall, he wishes he could retract those words.
Leigh bristles, her voice rising, “I know how being married works!”
She's livid, because that should go without saying. How dare he imply that she no longer knows, now that she's only half of a whole—her best friend, of all people.
Drew exhales coolly, as if trying to douse the proverbial fire between them. “Why does it seem like we're always either fighting or about to fight?” he wonders aloud.
Leigh’s anger softens into something more reflective, and she sighs, the fight draining out of her. “I don’t mean to...” She trails off, searching for the right words. “It’s like I’m always ready for a battle. I don’t know why. It’s like I’m expecting it, waiting for it, at the end of every day.”
Drew lets the moment breathe, waiting for both of them to deflate completely before tacitly reaching out behind Leigh for a snack. “These are great, by the way,” he says between bites, acting like they hadn’t just been at each other's throats.
Leigh tries to match Drew’s candidness, but inside, she’s reeling. It bothers her, this pattern they’ve fallen into—her temper flaring up, followed by a quick brush-off, as if these outbursts are merely now a part of who she is. She hates that she’s become predictable in her volatility, that her explosions are met with a shrug and a wait-out-the-clock mentality from those around her. She’s tired of it, tired of being seen as a ticking time bomb, her anger and hurt dismissed as just Leigh being Leigh, waiting for the reset button to be hit so the countdown can start all over again.
But it's her birthday, and she's brought these people together on a Tuesday night for fun. She didn't gather everyone just to tell them, once and for all, that they need to stop acting as if her husband just died.
So, she goes with the flow, laughing when it's her cue, even though deep down, she feels more alone in the crowd than ever.
-
With the absence of alcohol, the party winds down by 11 PM. Guests begin trickling out as early as 10, and by the time Leigh is bidding farewell to the last attendee, she's already donned an apron, ready to take on the mountain of dishes left behind.
Which is to say, showing up right now pretty much means you've missed the whole party.
Pulling up in front of Leigh's house, the night already deep into its quiet hours, you’re running on the adrenaline of the day's emergencies. Two cases back-to-back at the clinic, one of them diving straight into surgery, left you no choice but to push everything else to the side. Suzie, who was meant to join you as your plus one, ends up stuck back at work, tending to a recovering St. Bernard, so it's just you and the sleeping puppy on your lap now. For her sacrifice, you promise to take her out to a nice lunch one of these days.
The puppy starts wagging its tail in its sleep, and you look down with a smile at the little dreamer. The decision to give Leigh the puppy wasn't made lightly. You've been turning the idea in your mind for a while now. Initially, you didn't even realize her birthday was coming up, and the invitation to her party caught you off guard, especially considering the somewhat unresolved way things were left between you two weeks ago. The timing of her birthday, your rocky history, it all made you second-guess whether a puppy was a good idea. In search of a voice outside your own head, you turned to a favorite advice column you often read in your spare time. To your surprise, your submission was picked up by one of the columnists, and the response you got wasn't just advice; it was the push you needed. You were lucky to be able to catch their answer, just before you got home to change for Leigh’s birthday party.
Trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, you give yourself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror and apply a fresh swipe of nude-colored lipstick. With one last look, you carefully step out of the car, the sleeping puppy nestled securely in your arms. The moment you move, it stirs, burrowing deeper into your armpit, seeking refuge from the light of the street lamps.
Everything's too quiet as you walk up to Leigh's house. You anticipated some noise, music or chatter—anything to indicate the party was in full swing. But there are none. Could you have missed the party? Or worse, did Leigh get the date wrong on her invite? Hesitantly, you press the doorbell, instantly regretting it, thinking you might be waking up the whole house.
Just as you're about to bail, the door swings open and it's Jules.
“Y/N!” Jules nearly trips over herself getting to you, eyes wide when she spots the furball you’re holding. 
“Hi Jules,” you mutter sheepishly.
“Is that a…” she squeaks out, already reaching for a cuddle before you've even nodded. Jules is all over the puppy, who seems just as happy to be the center of attention. After a while, she looks up, a bit more composed but still glowing. 
“I didn’t know Leigh invited you. Too bad, you just missed the party. But you should definitely come in and say hi to Leigh,” she says. You want nothing more than to see Leigh again, even if only for a brief moment, just to accomplish what you came here for and perhaps wish her a happy birthday. But with the party over and you potentially being the only guest, it feels like walking into a situation you don’t think you’re prepared enough for.
Then, as the puppy licks Jules' face off, she pauses and looks at you funny. It clicks for her—no collar, no leash, just you and this puppy who appear no more than two months old.
“Oh my gosh, is this for Leigh?” Jules gasps.
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I-If she wants him.”
Jules looks at you, then at the puppy, her smile blinding. “Well, I want him. But if she doesn’t, I’ll be more than happy to be his mommy.”
You laugh at her enthusiasm. Still feeling skittish, you ask, “Do you think it’s an appropriate gift for Leigh?”
“You're a vet. It's kind of on-brand for you,” Jules quips.
You laugh again. “Really?” you ask, kind of hoping for a more solid reassurance.
Jules considers it for a second, before saying, “I can at least assure you it’s not unwanted.”
Good enough, you think. Jules hands you back the puppy and then says, “She’s in the kitchen. Look, she’s not exactly in a good mood, but I think you should go for it anyway.”
That’s two people egging you to go ahead with your surprise. It must be a sign from the universe. You make up your mind for the final time. “Thanks, Jules,” you say.
“Anytime.”
-
You tread lightly, making sure your footsteps don’t give you away as you approach the kitchen. Leigh is at the sink, doing the dishes, clad in a black dress that skims her thighs, her feet bare against the cool kitchen tiles. Her shoulders are slumped, her movements laconic, as if her body is there, but her mind is miles elsewhere. The expanse of skin revealed by her hair tied up in a high ponytail captivates you, holding you back from announcing your presence. You allow yourself a moment to take her in, thinking this might be the only chance you get to really look at her like this. 
You’re about to say “Hi”, when Leigh whirls around, startling you both. Leigh, not expecting anyone to be there, loses her grip on the plate she's holding, and it smashes loudly against the floor. 
“Jesus!” Leigh’s scream summons Jules and her mom into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you are trying to do damage control—holding the puppy with one hand and attempting to gather the ceramic shards with the other as Leigh continues to stare at you in shock.
Amy, wrapped in her robe, looks from the mess on the floor to you and then to Leigh. “What’s going on here?”
Jules is unfazed, simply watches the entire scene from a corner of the room, smirking. 
Your cheeks flush with shame, and you find yourself grateful to be still seated on the floor, your back turned away from Leigh's family.
“I’m so—” you start, but Leigh cuts you off.
“Okay, everyone just...calm down," Leigh says. She kneels down beside you, her hands joining yours in cleaning up the broken pieces.
“I'm heading to bed,” Jules says and then winks at you. “Happy to see you, Y/N!”
Amy wraps her robe more snugly around herself, then with a small, puzzled shake of her head, says, “Well, good night everyone. And happy birthday again, sweetheart,” before she walks down the hall and out of sight. Leigh gets to her feet, a slight nod of appreciation directed your way as she holds open a trash bag for you to deposit the ceramic shards. That’s when the puppy finally catches her attention. 
“And who's this little guy?” she asks, a smile starting to play at the corners of her mouth.
You clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. He’s yours if you want him. Don’t worry about refusing, there’s someone lined up to take him in case you’re not—”
But Leigh’s already gently taking the puppy from your arms, instantly cradling and bouncing him as though he’s a tiny human baby. It’s a sight both funny and utterly endearing, and you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle, feeling your heart grow a size or two.
“Who wouldn't want him? He's perfect,” Leigh says, her eyes not leaving him as he nestles comfortably in her arms. Hearing those words, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. She doesn't find it odd; she's already falling for him.
“Happy birthday,” you tell her, and when she looks at you, her smile is so bright it could light up the whole night. Right there is everything you hoped for. All you really wanted was to see her happy.
“Thank you so much,” she murmurs, clutching the puppy tighter to her chest. Then, cocking her head to the side, she inquires, “What's his name?”
The grin on your lips can’t be helped, and you’re hoping she wouldn’t see just how much she’s having an effect on you. “I haven’t named him yet. He was always meant to be yours, Leigh,” you say.
Her smile just gets bigger as she gazes down at the little furball in her arms, and you think this is exactly how things were supposed to go down. It’s one of those rare moments where reality lines up perfectly with expectation. 
“I think I’ll call him Logan.”
-
You and Leigh retire to the living room after she kindly offers to make you decaf. As you settle onto opposite ends of the couch, tucking your feet under you, Logan instinctively takes shelter in Leigh's lap, as if he already knows he belongs there.
“So…Why Logan?” you ask, after making a mental note of how Leigh makes her coffee: one cream, two sugars.
“Well,” Leigh says, her fingers gently stroking Logan’s deep chocolate fur, “he just looks like a little wolverine, doesn’t he? With that color and those defiant little eyes.”
The dots connect in a funny, unexpected sort of way. Leigh and comic books don't seem like the most likely pair. 
“Ah, like the X-Men character. I didn’t know you were a comic book fan,” you say.
She laughs, a sound that’s light and free of any shadows. “Oh, I wasn’t. Not really. It was all Matt. He had this massive collection, and he was pretty obsessed. I guess some of it rubbed off on me after all.” The mention of Matt doesn’t bring clouds into her eyes like you expected. She talks about him like she’s looking at something distant but dear.
“Thought you were bailing on me tonight,” Leigh , almost casual but there’s this undercurrent, like she’s really saying she’s glad you didn’t.
“I’m sorry. I got stuck at the clinic longer than expected.” Leaving her waiting, especially today, was never part of the plan. Your work as a vet often means unpredictable hours, but you hadn't expected it to stretch so far into the evening.
“It’s okay, you didn’t miss much.” 
Her casual dismissal makes you wonder, but not wanting to pry too much, you shift slightly, asking, “So, how did it go? Did you enjoy yourself at least?”
Leigh simply smiles and shrugs, an action that speaks volumes without giving much away. “This,” she nods down at Logan, “getting him from you, feels more like my birthday than anything else today.”
The conversation that follows is easy, skipping over the day-to-day stuff—nothing deep, but you're both there—really there—and it's nice. It feels like a fresh start, and you're deeply thankful for the second chance she's offering you. You promise yourself you won't mess it up this time. 
But just as you’re both delving into more personal topics, someone rings the doorbell. Logan perks up, his head tilted, ears alert. Leigh gives you a look, as if saying she's not expecting anyone else to show up this late at night. She puts the puppy down on the floor and when she opens the door, it’s Danny, looking sorry for himself. He’s holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It seems as though he has the whole evening planned out in his head—apologize, crack open the wine, and maybe be invited to Leigh’s bedroom afterwards.
Danny’s eyes find you and his face falls a bit. He wasn’t expecting company, certainly not you. “Leigh, can we talk?” he asks, then looks pointedly at you. “Alone?”
Leigh looks torn for a moment, glancing your way as if she's not ready to let you out of her sight. She insists it'll just be a minute, but you can read the room. This is something they need to sort out without you playing third wheel.
“It’s all good, I'll head out,” you tell her though you're staring Danny down, making sure he knows it’s not because of him that you’re leaving. Leigh either misses the whole glare-off or decides to stay out of it. Logan tries to follow you as you make for the door. It’s hard leaving him behind, but you know he’ll be happy to have found his forever home. You kneel down, giving Logan a soft kiss on the head, promising him you’ll be back soon. And then you turn to Leigh, a question at the tip of your tongue but she already knows what you’re going to ask. 
“You can see Logan anytime,” she says with a faint smile. “I might need your help with him sooner than you think.”
The moment you close the door behind you, Leigh's jaw sets in a firm line, bracing herself to confront Danny. Her main priority is to get Logan settled, so she decides that forgiving Danny might be the quickest way to send him on his way. But Danny’s focus now isn’t on apologies or making it up to her. He’s fixated on Logan, his brows knitting together in confusion and, curiously, a bit of annoyance. 
“Who gave you that?” he asks Leigh as if he’s just referring to an inanimate object lying around the house. He sounds like he's almost accusing her of something, and Leigh's baffled. 
“A friend gave him to me,” she says, nodding towards the door you've just walked out of. Danny's face twists up in an instant, like a storm cloud bursting. “A friend,” he repeats, and the way he says it, it’s clear he’s not just asking. He’s fuming with jealousy, and Leigh can’t wrap her head around why.
A gift is just a gift, right? Why would…
Oh.
Earlier, while she was reviewing submissions for the advice column, someone asked if giving a puppy as a birthday gift to someone they're interested in would be a good idea. She remembers how she happily encouraged them, telling them to go for it.
At this realization, Danny, the puppy, and everything else slide to the back burner. The only thing occupying her mind now is the deep, dark brown hue of your eyes, like rich espresso.
EspressoEyes. That's how the person behind the submission signed off. It's like a lightbulb moment, but softer—like waking up slow.
It's you.
Oh.
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withlove-xixi · 2 months ago
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— ANIMAL INSTINCT: laios x monster!reader
ᥫ cw: monster reader (thats it) ᥫ wc: 2874 ★ the idea came into my head like a prophecy from god lol + take this w a small grain of salt bc i havent actually read dunmeshi yet so idk if there's a monster like this in the story + idk what this type of monster is called? there's a term i know for it, but it's too specific and i kind of want you guys to have the liberty of imagining things (it will make sense in the fic + i explain things in the replies lol) cross posted on ao3
— LAIOS ACCIDENTALLY MAKES A NEW FRIEND
[♡]: laios knows that when he finds the rest of his party, he'll be scolded for getting separated in the first place (undoubtedly by Chilchuck). laios also knows that when he finds the rest of his party, he'll be scolded for dislocating his shoulder (undoubtedly by Marcille). laios also also knows that when he finds the rest of his party, he'll get scolded for bringing back a monster (possibly by everyone).
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BEING ALONE IN THE DUNGEON WAS DANGEROUS; it was the thought ringing at the back of Laios' mind as he stumbles around, one arm limp from injuring during his fall and the other clutching onto it lightly, prepared to draw his sword at any given moment. He's not scared though, quite the opposite actually, Laios is excited. It's very rare he gets to explore the dungeon on his own, now he has the freedom to do as he pleases, to study different plant life and architecture, and of course, his favorite, monsters.
His heartbeat accelerates at the thought of running into one as his mind begins to wonder what it might be. Perhaps a new type of slime he hadn't encountered yet, or a rare type of mushroom found only in certain levels, or—
There's a chill that runs down his spine, the echoing voice of Chilchuck in his head telling him to get himself together first before he dies and gets eaten.
With a sigh, Laios listens to the disembodied voice of Chilchuck, dragging him and his belongings away from the rubble to assess the situation first. He took quite the fall, managing only to survive because he was quick enough to use his sword, wedging the blade between the crevices of the dungeon walls and it to slide down a bit, minimizing the intensity of his fall. Though he still dislocated his shoulder, it's nothing a bit of healing magic couldn't fix. And things definitely could’ve gotten worse, he could’ve died when he fell and his party could’ve never found him and he might’ve never been resurrected. Besides, Laios was always one to focus on the silver-lining; for one, he’s finally alone after traveling with his party for nearly weeks. He feels free, finally able to think and do as he pleases, something that’s become a privilege when he travels with his friends (though even now, the chiding voice of Chilchuck echoes in his head again, Laios could almost feel the half-foot’s presence.)
In any case, imaginary Chilchuck is right. If Laios stayed out in the open like this, he’d surely die. So he decides to explore a bit more to find a more secluded area to rest in. His feet take him deeper into the dungeon, into a dark corridor he normally would’ve had no problem going in had he had Marcille’s light, but this time he’s going in blind. Quite literally too. A chill runs through his spine and Laios’ good hand stays on the hilt of his sword, drumming his fingers against it as he continues to walk.
Now more than ever, Laios thinks about the importance of his party, the roles each member plays like cogs in a clock to keep each other safe and move forward in the dungeon. Laios, as happy as he is to have time to himself, misses his party — his friends. He longs for their company, he realizes how cold the confines of the dungeon’s stone walls are now that the warmth of his friends doesn’t surround him. As dejected as he might be about suddenly missing his companions, Laios focuses that energy into finding his way back to them, a newfound determination to make it back safe and go on as little detours as possible.
With perfect timing too because there’s a sudden sharp sound behind him, like the snap of a twig, that makes him instantly draw his sword and turn in the direction. It renders useless however with the way his eyes aren’t able to catch even a speck of light. With an accelerating heartbeat, Laios cautiously moves forward, sensing he's not alone in the dark and something is definitely watching him. He feels the unseen eyes follow his movements. But Laios can tell whatever it is has no intent to harm him, not yet at least, so he continues forward.
Perhaps it’s a small monster, he thinks, though he’s trying to be careful not to let his mind wander too much. Maybe it thinks I’m a predator.
The thought makes his stomach flutter in the slightest, allowing a small smile to grow on his face. It’s the same thought that comforts him as he ventures a bit further for what felt like hours, walking forward and carefully going over rubble before eventually tiring himself out. His limbs feel limp, sluggish even as if he had begun to drag his body to push forward. Lady Luck must’ve been on Laios’ side however — or was it that she took pity on him? — because he found himself in a clearing. The hallway had led to a small residential looking area, dimly lit with just one torch lighting the whole room, a small broken dining table and what seemed to be the remnants of a living space scattered around the vicinity.
Relieved, Laios sets his backpack down, hissing when its weight is shifted onto his bad shoulder. Quickly, Laios digs through his belongings, searching for some spare cloth to create a makeshift sling for his arm, though a small frown grows on his face, his eyebrows furrow and he’s met with disappointment as he realizes he’s not carrying his backpack. A black long sleeved shirt, a pair of socks, lock picking tools … Laios could hear Chilchuck’s angry voice ringing in his head again, scolding him for making the mistake. 
But Laios isn’t one to let these things bring him down. He mutters an unheard apology to Chilchuck as he takes the half-foots shirt, wrapping it over his shoulder and under his forearm, tying it tight enough it’s able to support the weight of his limp arm. It’s a bit too short but it would have to do for now. He winces, but only at the thought of the long sermon Chilchuck would have for him once he reunites with the rest of his party.
For now, Laios pushes the terrible thought of his impending doom away as exhaustion begins to lull him to sleep. He unfurls his (Chilchuck’s) bedroll and sets it near the torch, then he drags his (Chilchuck’s) backpack next to it. His stomach grumbles, a sudden piercing pain that feels like a punch in his gut; it’s his body telling him he’s hungry.
Not to worry! He thinks and mutters a second unheard apology as he begins rummaging through Chilchuck’s belongings for something to eat.
Though the more he digs through various changes of clothes and pouches of things he dare not know what of, Laios grows a bit more frustrated each time he pulls out something inedible. The closest thing he found to food was a small tin flask hidden in a pocket inside the bag; knowing Chilchuck, it was probably alcohol, and knowing Chilchuck, Laios was certain he’d be killed if he drank it. Not that it was tempting though, Laios was hungry after all. And he wasn’t too big of a fan of drinking anyway.
With a sigh, Laios decides the best choice would be to sleep through it and find something to eat in the morning. He grumbles to himself, something about his tummy hurting and how he hated waking up hungry. Regardless, he lays on the bedroll, shutting his eyes tight, ignoring the sounds his stomach is making, and allowing exhaustion to take over his body.
He smells something, it’s what causes his brows to twitch. Laios can’t tell if he’s even slept yet (he assumes he has since he feels less tired), but the smell causes him to stir. It’s something… strange. In a way, it feels familiar, something homey and comforting like the old books he used to love reading or the earthy scent of dewy grass. At the same time, something about it was new, something unique that Laios hadn't encountered before. His curiosity was piqued, though he was half-certain he was still dreaming.
That was until he felt something prod against his lips. Half-asleep and against his better judgment, Laios parts his lips slightly, coaxed by whatever was against them, and feels a warm liquid pour into his mouth. The taste matches whatever smell came before it, something a bit earthy or grassy and there was something else he wouldn't quite decipher. When he swallows and feels its warmth go down his throat, he realizes he is very much not dreaming and sits up, a bit too quickly since his vision immediately blurs. There was a small noise from somewhere in front of him, something he can't quite make out yet because his eyes haven't focused.
He sees something move, a haze of color reaching out towards him. Laios' hand instinctively reaches for where he left his sword before falling asleep, only to find it wasn't there anymore. Before he could do anything else the colors reached his forehead, something warm pressing against his skin gently. Finally his eyes adjust, focusing on the once blurry figure in front of him to see a person.
Laios opens his mouth to speak, but they're pulling their hand off him and reaching for something next to them. Dots begin to connect as Laios realizes they're holding a spoon, a bowl of what he's guessing is soup next to them. The person brings another spoonful of soup to Laios, who, having woken up hungry, cautiously opens his mouth for them to feed.
They smile gently at Laios when he eats it, seemingly admiring the way his face contorts to try and get a feel of the soup's flavor.
"It's good," Laios says when he realizes you're waiting for a response.
To which you smile a bit brighter and reach to grab another spoonful. While you do, Laios ponders on the taste of the soup, which leads to him wondering where you got the soup, which leads to him thinking about you. Who exactly were you?
Curious golden eyes begin to watch you to try and figure out who you were or where you came from — well, tried to begin because he quickly realizes you're naked. Flustered Laios jolts upright, which startles you. A hand reaches out for Laios' forehead again but he averts his gaze and raises a hand at you.
Confused, you tilt your head and Laios, sensing your confusion, vaguely points at your torso. Which only confuses you more; don't humans normally look like this?
With a frown, you crawl towards Laios, hands clasping around his hands to bring them down, coaxing him to slowly turn back towards you, careful not to look anywhere below your neck. You blink at him, waiting for him to say something.
"Are you not cold?" He asks, slowly like he's worried he'd offend you.
You shake your head and Laios fights the urge to look away again. He looks around the room for a bit before he grabs the blanket from the bedroll and flings it up and around your shoulders.
"At least have this on…" Laios says in a tender manner.
There are lots of questions and thoughts going through Laios' head right now. Who were you? You seemed nice, you didn't try to kill Laios yet, plus you fed him questionable but otherwise tasty soup, but who were you? Were you lost too? Also why were you naked, where were your clothes? If you were lost like him, it doesn't explain the lack of clothes. And where did you get the soup? The room looked like it had a kitchen so maybe it was from there. Oh, did you live here? It would make a bit of sense then, kind of. Also why weren't you talking?
There was the faintest alarm blaring in Laios' head (perhaps his voice of reason, Chilchuck, very furiously reminding him that stranger danger) but curiosity got the best of him, as it usually did. So he asks for your name.
He watches intently as you make gestures with your hands and sound out vowels first before answering. A bit strange, but maybe you just weren't used to talking. If you lived on a floor this deep in the dungeon in a secluded room, it'd make sense.
Laios offers an easy smile. "Do you live here?" He asks, his voice is soft and gentle like he's afraid to scare you.
You pause before nodding. "Some… times." You reply the same way you did with your name, pausing and sounding out the words a bit strange. Maybe you were foreign. He thinks with a curt nod. 
You blink at him before returning back to the soup, carefully feeding Laios another spoonful. He continues to think about the situation, about you, really. It's quite easy to pique Laios' interest, but never something that makes him this curious. You'd have to be a monster to do that.
As he thinks, you continue to feed him, wiping away some of the liquid that spills from his lips. He hums as he thinks, and is only pulled from his thoughts when he realizes you're mimicking the noise.
"Oh, uh, thanks for the soup, by the way. How'd you know I was hungry?" He asks, turning his attention back towards you.
In turn, you tilt your head. "So… Sou…?"
"Soup." Laios finishes for you, pointing at the now empty bowl then at his mouth. "Thanks for that."
He senses your understanding with the way you smile at him. Curious.
"Are you from around here?"
You shake your head. Your mouth opens but swiftly closes like you can't really find the words to use.
Laios flashes you a look of sympathy. "It's okay, take your time."
You hum as you think. "Run… here." You reply after a pause.
"Run…? You escaped? From where?"
You hum again, though your face quickly contorts to frustration as you really can't find any way to verbally explain things to Laios. There's a sound that comes from you, something animal.
Laios opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. "Name?" You ask, pointing at him.
"Oh, it's Laios."
"Here?"
"Here…?"
"Why…? Here why?"
"Oh, uh… I got lost."
The conversation goes on like this, slow and patient. You ask questions to Laios the best you could, learning more about him while he learns more about you.
You're shocked when he suddenly points at a pile across the room. "Yours?" He asks.
He could tell from your face his hunch was right. Your eyes widen, mouth slightly ajar. He notices the slight tremble in your hands, the way you look like you're about to run.
"You aren't human, are you?"
Your lip quivers, panic slowly seeping into your veins as fear begins to settle. You had no idea what would happen next.
"Me— I…" You start, voice faltering. "Human!"
Laios looks at you and you can't tell what face he's making but his eyes are intense, golden and piercing. You swallow and shut your eyes tight. Were you going to die?
There's a shuffle, you sense it's Laios getting up, you fear it's to get his sword. Instead you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"Here." Laios says, pressing something warm against you. "Must be weird being out of your skin."
Slowly you open your eyes. In his hand is this big fabric like sheet, it's thick and there's a strong musk that comes from it; it’s an animal’s hide. Specifically, your hide.
Shakily you take it in both hands. You look up at the tallman cautiously.
"No —" you hum, thinking "— No… hunt?"
Laios shakes his head. "No hunt." He parrots, voice firm yet gentle, it was reassuring in a way. "Is that why you escaped? You were being hunted?"
You nodded. That made sense; after all, monsters of your rarity have become somewhat of a trophy back up on the surface. You must’ve been hunted down before, probably by other adventurers looking to make some more money. 
“I won’t hurt you.” He says so easily it could only be the truth. “I’m… actually really happy to have met you. I’ve heard stories from sailors back then about these seals that could shed their skins and turn into humans. I suppose you’re something like that huh?”
You nod a bit. Then you point at Laios, then back at yourself. “Friend?”
It takes a while for Laios to register what you’re trying to tell him and when he realizes and nearly jumps up, the jolt startles you. “Friends?” He asks, his voice loud and beaming with excitement. “You think we’re friends? You want to be friends?”
You stare at him with furrowed brows before you nod slowly. “Laios friends.”
His hands fly to your shoulders, grabbing you. Confused and a bit frightened, you look back and forth between him and his hands, Laios remains unaware, smiling really brightly at you, his cheeks flushing from sheer excitement.
“I’ve never had a monster friend before!” He tells you, his joy evident in his tone. “You’re my first! Have you had a human friend? Am I your first too? I can’t wait to tell the rest of the party! I’m sure they’ll like you?”
You open your mouth to speak but you’re quickly cut off. “Tell us what, dumbass?”
Oh. Suddenly Laios remembers all the things Chilchuck would scold him for, and he realizes he’s about to add one more thing to that list.
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etherfabric · 5 months ago
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How the Universe provides for you + Songs
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Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.
If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.
You are the ultimate authority over your life. I merely provide my perspective. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does. Never give away your power.
Pile 1
Strength, 3 of Pentacles
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You have loyal allies in your challenges. A lot of unforeseen inconveniences you can't seem to avoid are in your energy, but this time, you feel the support - be it physical incarnations of kindred spirits, or those from the other realm connected to you. Yes, your heart is pounding and your knees are shaking, and these instances definitely aren't what you would've put on your wish list in a million years - but you surprise yourself with your bravery amidst it all. You thrive in collaboration with likeminded people, even in the face of your antagonists. The Universe is sending you storms so you can see how well you build your structure, and feel like the badass boundary expert your past self dreamed they could be.
This was a test, and you passed with flying colors. All your hard inner work is tangibly paying off, and you feel elated and proud - rightfully so.
Pile 2
Queen of Pentacles, The Fool
youtube
You finally stopped caring so much. You figured out where (or with whom) you lose the energy you so desperately missed all this time, and despite the struggles of letting go, you are now light as a feather. But in contrast to the past, where you were simply too scared to attach fully, so what else is there to do but float... you can now fall back on and draw from the deep roots you grew in fertile ground. Nourishment tailored to your needs is in constant supply, and plenty of opportunities to extend that generosity onto are emerging on the horizon. But this time, you know what to look for to have it reciprocated.
There might be people you still deem generally lovable you had to leave behind, and trust that hearing their criticism or seeing the effect of your absence on them will never truly stop hurting - but you know your worth and needs better than ever, and are determined to ultimately look ahead to the promising future. The Universe provides for all, and not just through you.
Pile 3
7 of Wands, 7 of Pentacles
youtube
The Universe is fueling your fierce protector side. You respect your own time more than ever, and see the value of patience with yourself. Your vulnerability is no longer a source of shame, it has become your most precious inspiration. Outside disturbances can't faze you out of your serenity with your true self. You worked hard for where you are, and you are not letting anyone counterproductive get close to it. Take the various toxic coping mechanisms projected onto you as the compliments that they are - you trusted in your balance, followed what felt right, and are reaping the rewards, while others still cling to the very same mindset that starts itching once you are around.
You understand the delicate relationship between healthy aggression and egotistical overkill, and are a role model for those wanting to follow you. The blessings you have already received are shining brighter than ever, and it's only the beginning. Isn't it so worth it being seen as the bad guy? Your people love you for what you are doing for them. No one can take this away from you, because you know how to keep it - becoming more authentic every chance you get.
Pile 4
2 of Swords, The Hermit
youtube
I can imagine you clicking on this particular reading with a kind of scoff. "Oh yeah? Providing for me? I see fuck all." Dare I recommend to expand your understanding in which ways one can receive...? I see you clinging onto promises you kind of already know aren't very, well, promising. But for some reason you only want it that way, almost to try to prove a point no one even challenged you on. Your idea of what you need and what you want have no space for differences inbetween. This might not sound pretty or comforting - I feel awfully confrontational saying this to you actually, and my Cancer Mars is shaking like a leaf - but I see the Universe providing you with an ultimatum.
Drop the rope if you truly want happiness (and not just validation for how great all of your ideas are), or be stuck in the frustration eating away at you. Look at what you already have. Yes, it's not the ultimate dream, but you have to first step inside of you to be able to receive. Because inside of you is where you will feel the love that's on its way to you - not craning your neck out as far as you can, desperate for a crumb to roll by.
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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 4 months ago
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Gorgeous
Hii, since Lewis won today I thought I would write this one-shot inspired by Taylor Swift's gorgeous, I hope you enjoy it.
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Even in the dimly lit club, his presence was undeniable, his magnetic energy drawing you in. You couldn't help but blatantly check him out—his silver jewellery catching the light, his unbuttoned shirt showcasing his sculpted chest. He looked so gorgeous, it felt almost unfair—unfair because he wasn't yours.
You've had a crush on Lewis for a while, ever since you started working for the media team at Mercedes. You’ve chatted a few times, but you never expected him to remember you. He's a world champion, and you... well, you're just you. But with alcohol coursing through your veins, you can't help but wish he was interested in you too.
After chatting with your colleagues—and simultaneously avoiding him—you make your way to the bar to order another drink. What you don't notice is a set of curious brown eyes following your every move. It's not until you feel his presence behind you that your heart starts to race.
"Whiskey on ice, please," Lewis orders at the bar, his voice sending shivers down your spine. As you silently pray that he'll ignore you, he says, "Are you having a good time, Y/N?"
You stare at him, speechless, until you manage to find your voice. "Yeah, it's a nice party. Congratulations on your win—you deserve it."
"Thanks, it was a team effort, honestly. I thought you might have forgotten, since you’ve been talking to everyone here but me," he says cheekily, sitting down on the stool next to yours.
A blush spreads across your face. "I didn't think you would notice."
Shockingly, his hand reaches out to gently caress yours. "I notice you more than you think. How you always welcome any member of the team with a smile, how you carry vegan dog snacks for Roscoe, how you tie your hair in a ponytail when you're stressed, and how you always avoid my gaze whenever I look at you."
Is this a dream, you wonder? "Lewis, the thing is," you take a deep breath, "I like you. How could I not? You're kind, charismatic, gorgeous, and not just a great driver, but also a great person." You ramble nervously, avoiding his stare.
"Y/N, look at me," he says, cradling your face in his hands, a smile gracing his handsome features. "I've liked you since you first started working for Mercedes, but I thought I was doing you a favor by keeping my distance. You're younger than me, and we work on the same team. I didn't want rumors to spread and make things difficult for you. We both know how cruel the media can be. But since I decided to leave Mercedes, I've been thinking about us. Tonight's win reminded me that anything is possible, and if I can make something possible, I want it to be us. So, what I'm trying to say is, would you be mine, Y/N?"
Your answer is yes. Maybe it's the alcohol, or the happiness from his revelation, but all you can do is kiss him. Despite the packed club, it feels like it's only you and Lewis, especially when he kisses you back with equal fervor. When you finally pull away, breathless, he chuckles. "I guess this is a yes?"
"Wasn't I clear? Maybe I need to kiss you again to make it clearer," you tease, leaning in for another kiss. Kissing him for the second time that night, and surely not the last.
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merrybloomwrites · 9 months ago
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Ants Are Going to Town in My Body
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Summary: Your boyfriend Shayne helps you through the roughest night of your period after getting a taste of cramps for himself.
Title taken from the video that inspired this story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kkn2dc4L7fE
Word Count: 1.7K
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People could easily say that Shayne Topp has golden retriever energy. As his girlfriend of two years, you would completely agree with that statement, and you would say it as the highest compliment.
Shayne is the absolute best boyfriend you’ve ever had. It’s not uncommon for him to surprise you with flowers for no reason. He loves to cook. Sometimes you help him in the kitchen, and other times he kicks you out in order to surprise you with the new recipe he decided to try.
He gets excited to tell you all about the latest book he read or to watch a new movie or show with you. Day trips outside of the city happen a couple times a month, the two of you listening to music during the drive as you enjoy the fresh, non-LA air.
One thing that you found surprising at first is how much he dotes on you. It’s always in subtle ways, nothing overwhelming, but he does little things to show he cares. To show that he knows what you need, deep down.
He always takes care of you when you’re sick, grabbing medicine and making soup to help you feel better. If you’re sad or stressed he’ll go through the feelings with you. People often see him as a class clown type and might assume that he’d just do what he can to cheer you up and make you laugh, but that’s not always the case. He’ll meet you where you’re at. If you need to vent, he’ll listen. If you need to cry, he’ll hold you. He’s one of the most emotionally mature men you’ve ever met, and you can’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call him your boyfriend.
He is also super supportive of you each month during your period. He has no problem picking up pads or tampons, not even batting an eye when fans recognize him in the feminine care aisle of the local convenience store.
He’ll make sure that you have pain medicine and a snack to take it with, so it doesn’t upset your stomach. He draws warm baths and makes sure your heating pad is ready for you. When you have cramps in the middle of the night you always go to the couch so that your constant tossing and turning to find a comfortable position won’t wake him. But without fail, he always comes to find you and bring you back to bed.
All that to say, he’s truly a perfect boyfriend. You don’t think it could be better than this. Until one day, he proves you wrong.
It’s day two of your period, and you’ve been curled on the couch since you got home from work. The pain meds haven’t kicked in, nothing is comfortable, and you’re extremely bloated. You’re debating if it’s worth it to drag yourself to the bathroom and take a bath when the front door of your apartment opens.
The very first thing Shayne does is press a kiss to the top of your head. The sweet gesture distracts you from the pain for a moment, but the relief is fleeting.
“Hey honey, how are you feeling?” he asks gently.
“Like it would be less painful to slice open my stomach and take out my uterus,” you reply through gritted teeth.
You finally look at him and see the most loving expression on his face. It immediately lightens your mood, and you say, “Sorry, that was a bit dramatic. I just hate waiting for the medicine to work. And I cannot get comfy.”
“I got something that might help,” he says before walking into the kitchen. You miss his presence next to you, but you’re also curious what he has for you. The microwave beeps and he’s crouched in front of the couch again. You look up and see him holding a stuffed rabbit.
“It’s one of those thingies that you can heat up and works like a heating pad. Plus, it’s your favorite animal so, I dunno, I thought it was cute.”
He hands it to you, and you place it on your belly, sighing at the immediate relief. “Thank you,” you say quietly.
“Of course, babe. I also have ingredients for your favorite meal so I’m gonna wash up and start making that, okay?”
You nod and smile, and he leans in to place a soft kiss to your lips. You’re comforted by the sounds of him preparing dinner in the next room and by the time the food is ready you’re finally feeling better.
“So, how was work today?” you ask as you dig into the delicious meal he prepared. You’d been too nauseas to eat lunch earlier, and you suddenly realize how starving you are.
“It was good, recorded a podcast, a reddit reacts and a challenge pit,” he replies.
“Busy day. What were the challenges?”
“Uh, it was a fun one. I’m gonna let it be a surprise for you when it comes out,” he says with a laugh. “How were the pups today?” he asks in reference to your job as a service dog trainer.
You tell him about the new dog that you’ve started working with as you both finish eating. Once you’re done you try to bring the plates to the kitchen. Since Shayne cooked you plan to do the cleanup, but he stops you before you can even stand. “I’ve got it babe, why don’t you choose a movie for us to watch tonight?”
You again wonder how you got so lucky to have someone who takes care of you and does so with a smile on his face. There’s a new documentary you’d both been wanting to watch so you pull it up and grab a blanket while you wait for him.
He joins you a few minutes later and hands you a bag of your favorite chocolates. You know that you didn’t have any in the apartment, meaning he’d picked them up for you. The kind gesture brings tears to your eyes, and you internally curse the hormones that make you more emotional than normal.
Shayne doesn’t comment on the crying, knowing that it sometimes makes you uncomfortable when he points it out. Instead, he just wraps his arm around you, pulls you in to cuddle against his chest, and presses play on the documentary.
His free hand moves to your belly, massaging and giving the type of pressure that always helps with your cramps. Even though they’re not bothering you right now, you appreciate how well he knows you and how he’s doing everything he can to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.
For the next hour and a half, the documentary plays. You’re only half paying attention to it. The rest of your brain is focused on your wonderful boyfriend, who knows exactly how to take care of you. There’s no expectation, he doesn’t want anything in return. He just wants to make sure he’s doing everything he can to make you feel better.
The credits start rolling and Shayne turns off the TV before getting off the couch and reaching out to help you stand as well. The two of you get ready for bed side by side in the bathroom and you burrow under the covers.
It takes a couple of minutes for Shayne to join you, and you assume he’s checking that the door is locked as he does every night. But when he comes into the bedroom, you see he’s carrying the new bunny he got you. It’s warm, and smells of lavender, and you know he heated it for you in the microwave before coming to bed.
 You place it against your belly and Shayne gets under the covers, spooning you from behind. He places a kiss to the back of your neck and murmurs “I love you” against your skin.
“I love you too,” you reply, and fall asleep.
You wake in the middle of the night, your cramps coming back, so you quietly slide out of bed and walk into the kitchen. You find a snack already left out for you nearly cry again at how well Shayne takes care of you. After eating the food, you take more pain medicine and reheat the bunny. You notice a vase of flowers on the counter that weren’t there yesterday and immediately realize that Shayne must have picked them up along with the chocolates and the new stuffed animal.
Just as the microwave is about to finish you feel hands wrap around your waist.
“You okay?” Shayne asks, his voice groggy from sleep.
“I’m okay. Thank you. For the snack. And for the bunny. You truly are the best,” you say as you turn in his arms to press a kiss to his lips.
You grab the stuffed animal and lead Shayne back to bed. It takes half an hour for the pain medicine to kick in, and he rubs your back the entire time.
The next day is better, your cramps and bloating subsiding. But you can’t forget how well Shayne took care of you through the worst of it. He never diminishes your emotions or belittles the pain you feel.
A couple weeks later you get home from work and open YouTube to relax a bit before starting dinner prep. You see the new Smosh challenge pit video titled “Period Cramp Simulator Challenge” and you immediately start to watch it. The video begins with the rubber band chicken challenge which has you in tears with how hilariously ridiculous it is.
And then comes the period cramp simulator. You notice the outfit Shayne is wearing while he practically fights for his life experiencing cramps for the first time. Suddenly, his actions on day two of your last period make sense. Because that was absolutely the day they shot that video. He got a taste of what you experience every month and went even further in his need to take care of you. And for that reason, this video makes you fall even further in love with your boyfriend.
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Thanks for reading! If you have any Shayne Topp story requests let me know!
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kikyoupdates · 1 month ago
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Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛
yandere!jjk x f!reader
yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere
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You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.
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“Draw two,” Sasaki says. 
“I’ll add another draw two. So now [Name] has to draw four,” Iguchi follows up, throwing another card onto the pile.
You stare at the two cards left in your hand, and then you cast a glance beside you, over to poor Itadori, who’s easily holding more than ten. Part of you wonders if you should be nice and spare him, since he’s clearly suffering more than enough already, but then again, this is Uno. 
Uno is just about as cutthroat as it gets. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, wincing a bit as you add another card onto the pile. “I still have a draw four card left… which means Itadori has to pick up eight cards in total. Also, um, Uno.” 
“No way!” he cries out, and you swear you see his soul leave his body. 
Sasaki throws her head back and starts laughing. “Man, Itadori, you stink at this! I swear you’ve placed last every single time we’ve played. It’s actually kind of impressive how unlucky you can be sometimes.”
“I haven’t lost yet,” Itadori stubbornly refutes, but of course, within the next round, you win, and Sasaki and Iguchi quickly follow suit. 
You watch as Itadori’s shoulders slump in defeat. 
“Fine, now I lost,” he sighs. Most people would probably be pretty frustrated seeing as he’s lost more than four—or is it five games in a row now? In any case, Uno tends to ruin friendships and drive people insane, but since this is Itadori, it only takes a few brief moments of adorable sulking for him to perk up again. “Alright, well, I’m ready for the next round!” 
Iguchi shakes his head. “Sorry, but no more. I’m starting to feel bad about beating you this badly.” 
“Really?” Sasaki blinks. “I’m having the time of my life.” 
“You don’t always have to voice your intrusive thoughts aloud, Sasaki.” 
“We can play more next time,” you say, gently patting Itadori on the shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ll win a bunch then. Enough to make up for all the losses from today.” 
“Doubt it,” Sasaki muses. 
“Sasaki, that’s seriously enough out of you,” Iguchi sighs.
“Alright, fine,” Itadori relents. He quickly glances towards the clock on the wall. “I guess it’s about time for me to head out anyway. It’d be nice to get to the hospital early for a change.” 
More than a week has passed since you first awoke in this world, and during that time, you’ve spent pretty much every day hanging out with Itadori. It’s quite literally a dream come to true to be able to talk to him like this. From the moment you discovered you attended the same school, you were already starstruck, but you figured you would only ever be able to stare at him longingly, from afar. Never in a million years did you imagine that you would actually become his friend. 
Even though your friendship is destined to be cut short, you’re determined to enjoy these blissful moments for as long as you can.
You and Itadori say goodbye to Sasaki and Iguchi, and the two of you walk out of the building together, stopping by a vending machine to grab some canned drinks. You crack your can open and sit down next to him, relishing in the fresh air paired with the cool liquid running down your throat. 
“Visiting your grandpa again, right?” you affirm. 
Itadori takes a big gulp, then nods. “Yeah. Same old, I guess. That’s another reason why it’s nice being part of the Occult Research Club. A lot of people have pestered me to join athletic clubs, but they run way too late. I wouldn’t be able to make it down to the hospital in time for visiting hours. It just works out better this way. Plus, hanging out with those guys is a lot of fun.”
“It’s nice that you always make an effort to visit him,” you say, smiling gently. “I’m sure he really appreciates the time he gets to spend with you. It must mean a lot to him.” 
“Well, I’m the only one he has left, so I’d feel really crappy if he had to spend every day all on his own.”
“Still. Not everyone would make sure to visit every single day, like you do. You’re really kind. You’re a good person, Itadori.” 
You hold your smile as you take another sip of your drink, and you don’t notice that Itadori is staring at you wide-eyed, at least, not until you turn and realize he’s nearly breathing down your neck. 
“Um,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed by how close he is, “y-yes? Is there… something on my face?” 
Itadori scratches his neck. “Uh. This might sound like a bit of a weird request and all, but I was just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come with me today?” 
“Come with you?” 
“Yeah. To visit my gramps. Since we got to talking and all, I figured maybe he’d like to see someone other than me for a change. To be honest, I don’t think he has much longer left. He’s always snapping at me for visiting him, saying I shouldn’t waste my time going to a depressing place like that, and that I should be spending time in clubs with my friends instead. Maybe he’ll feel better if he sees me bring a friend along. He won’t worry that I’m lonely, like he is.” 
You proceed to just stare at him, and although you didn’t intend for your gaze to be unsettling, Itadori lets out a nervous chuckle and quickly shakes his head.
“Aw, man, what am I even saying? Sorry. That was kind of weird. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to waste your free time going to a hospital, of all places. I didn’t mean to try and pressure you into anything. Just forget what I—” 
“I'll go,” you blurt. “If you're sure you want me to come with you, then yes. I'd be happy to meet your grandpa.”
Itadori blinks rapidly, clearly bewildered, but it doesn’t take long for one of those ridiculously cute smiles to spread across his lips. 
“Awesome! Thanks so much, [Name]. That’s really cool of you. I feel like you’re always the one doing me favors, even though it should be the other way around.” 
“It’s not a favor,” you reassure. You pause, smiling shyly. “I really like spending time with you, after all.” 
Itadori’s smile shows no signs of disappearing, and together, you make the trip to Sugisawa Hospital, where his grandfather is currently admitted. 
You have to admit, you feel a little nervous. His grandfather is his only remaining family, and naturally, you want to make a good impression. Even more so because you know that he doesn’t have much time left. You may not be able to stay by Itadori’s side once the canon plot begins, but at least for now, you’d like to put his grandfather at ease. 
“Don’t worry,” Itadori reassures, smiling brightly. “He might seem like a crabby old man at first, but he’s not actually that bad. I know he’ll be happy to see me with a friend.” 
You smile back and quickly nod, and after a moment’s delay, Itadori slides the door open. 
“...you again, Yuji?” a gruff voice immediately barks out. “I thought I told you to quit wasting your time stopping by. Don’t you have anything better to do? What about your school club?” 
Itadori steps into the room first, rolling his eyes as if this kind of reaction is typical, but once you follow behind him and make your presence known, his grandfather’s expression does a full one-eighty. 
“Oh,” he blinks. “Who’s this now? Yuji, don’t tell me… you finally managed to get yourself a girlfriend? Good going, kid. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 
Itadori blushes a bit, but his embarrassment dissolves once he lets out a sigh. “Cool it, old man. Don’t make me regret bringing her. This is [Name]. She’s my friend. You always seem so worried about me not spending enough time with other people, so I invited her to come, and she accepted. Make sure to be nice to her, okay?” 
“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” you say, bowing your head. “I hope me being here isn’t an inconvenience.” 
“Itadori Wasuke,” his grandfather introduces. You watch as he sits up a bit straighter in his hospital bed. “Hm. Are you sure you’re not dating Yuji? You seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ve got manners, unlike this brat. Hey, Yuji. Don’t be stupid. You don’t want to lose a pretty girl like her to someone else.” 
Itadori rolls his eyes again. “It might be easier said than done, but try to ignore him. Sometimes I think he just says things because he likes hearing the sound of his own voice.” 
“See that?” Wasuke points. “Do you see how this ungrateful grandson of mine treats me?” 
You bite back a chuckle. Naturally, you’ve already gotten a glimpse of what their relationship is like, well before meeting either of them in person. Wasuke may have a sharp tongue, but it’s clear that he loves his grandson, and he wants him to have a good life. He wants him to be surrounded by people who care for him, and even though Itadori will face plenty of hardship in the future, the fact remains that he will have plenty of friends who are willing to stand by his side. 
“Itadori’s a really good guy,” you say, lacing your hands together and smiling. “Everyone likes him. He’s got a lot of other friends besides me. And I know he’ll make countless more friends from here on out.” 
You pause to gauge their reactions. Itadori is blinking at you, perhaps a bit flustered by your sudden declaration, and Wasuke’s expression hasn’t really changed much, but you notice that his eyes are a bit wider than they were a second ago. 
It’s awfully subtle, but for just a brief moment, a smile rises to Wasuke’s lips. 
“Is that so?” he chuckles. “Thank you for saying that, young lady. I’ll admit that it brings me some relief. I’m glad Yuji isn’t just wasting the best years of his life tending to a sickly old man like me. If he’s got friends like you who speak so highly of him… then I guess he must be doing something right.” 
“No way,” Itadori marvels. “Did you just compliment me, gramps?” 
“Don’t get used to it.” 
“Still! You actually said something kind of nice for a change!” 
“Alright, I take back everything I just said.” 
The two of them go back and forth like this for a while longer, and you’re perfectly content to just stand there and watch. It’d be nice if Wasuke could stick around longer. It’d be nice if Itadori didn’t have to lose the only family he has left. But without a doubt, Wasuke will live on in his heart, and you get the feeling that even when he passes, he’ll be watching over him for a long, long time. 
Wasuke clears his throat. “Seriously, though. If you don’t act fast enough, by the time you know it, [Name] will be dating someone else. Don’t live a life filled with regrets, kid.” 
“...gramps, come on.” 
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Uh-oh.
You’re not an idiot, so of course, you know what this means. The wooden box he’s referring to is where Sukuna’s finger was being kept. Up until Itadori found it, that is. 
Which can only mean that soon—like, very soon—the main plotline will begin to unfold. 
You nervously chew on your lip. Truth to be told, you want absolutely nothing to do with that stinky finger. You already know that everything will be fine until the Occult Club members remove the seal, but still. The whole thing just freaks you out, and it’s way too scary to even fathom getting involved in. 
While you struggle to come up with a reasonable excuse, your phone buzzes again. 
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Balls. He’s just too goddamn cute. It makes it downright impossible to turn him down. 
With a heavy sigh, you text him that you’re on your way, and you eventually get there, unsurprised to see him standing in front of the same storage box that Fushiguro was frantically searching at the start of the series. 
Itadori grins widely. “Thanks for coming! Here, check this out. Have you ever seen something like this before? It looks kind of supernatural, doesn’t it? I bet Sasaki and Iguchi would go crazy over this.”
He proceeds to hold up a small, visibly old wooden box, and you gulp as he opens it up to reveal the cursed object inside—one of Sukuna’s fingers.
Of course, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what it actually is. It’s completely wrapped up in the seal, making the object inside indiscernible. He probably wouldn’t be grinning ear-to-ear if he knew it was some wrinkly old finger. 
…then again, he swallowed said finger without even hesitating, so maybe he wouldn’t actually care that much. 
“Oh, c-cool,” you say, doing your best to mask your discomfort. “Yeah, it definitely gives off that occult vibe. I’m sure the other club members would like it a lot.” 
“I really wonder what it’s even supposed to be, though.” Itadori frowns as he picks up the sealed finger—much to your horror—and leans in closer to get a better look at it. “Yep, I honestly have no idea. You got any theories, [Name]?”
Without warning, he tosses the cursed object towards you, and out of pure reflex, you lurch forward to catch it. 
The second it falls into your hands, you experience a sense of dread that is almost too nauseating to put into words. 
It’s only for a moment, but the scene before your eyes changes. All of a sudden, you feel something wet sloshing around your feet, and you look down to find crimson liquid, red water, or perhaps—blood. 
You try to choke out a few words, but no sound escapes your lips. You’re understandably disoriented, so your gaze then pans upwards, and to say that you’re terror-struck would still have been an understatement. 
Right there, sitting on top of a pile of skeletons, is Sukuna.
It seems as though you’ve lost the ability to speak, but even if you could speak, you doubt you would have been able to find the right words. You’re too overwhelmed with fear to even think clearly, and right before you collapse onto your knees, just shy of a meltdown, Sukuna knits his brows together and leans forward.
“...who are you?”
You snap out of it with a gasp, only to find that you’re still standing in front of Itadori, who has a worried look on his face. 
“[Name]?” he frowns. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so good. Sorry, did I freak you out by tossing that thing at you? I probably shouldn’t have done that. I get why you’d be startled.” 
He crouches down to pick up the cursed object, which you apparently dropped to the ground without even realizing it. You place a hand over your chest, exhaling shakily. Your heart is pounding relentlessly, and you feel dizzy, like you might pass out at any given moment.
Just now… that was Sukuna’s Innate Domain, right? But how is that even possible? He hasn’t even been incarnated through Itadori yet…
You swallow hard. That finger is completely sealed. Even though the seal is old enough to be torn off by even a regular human—like Sasaki, for instance—Sukuna shouldn’t have appeared before you. Or at the very least, you shouldn’t have been able to see him. 
Maybe it was just a strange vision. Maybe the shock induced some kind of hallucination, or something. None of this makes any sense in the first place. The fact that you’ve been transported into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.
Itadori places the cursed object back inside the box, then tucks it into his pocket. “Sorry again for catching you off guard like that. Are you okay? You look a bit faint. That was my bad. You even mentioned before that you don’t really like scary stuff, so I should have thought twice before doing that.” 
“I’m okay,” you reassure, and it’s true. You feel perfectly fine now. That sensation of choking up and being overcome with fear is already a thing of the past. It seems more and more likely that it was probably all in your head. 
Yeah.
You must have just been imagining things. 
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“Kokkuri, Kokkuri, please tell us… which creature is the school council president weaker than?!” 
Ah. So, it’s finally starting. 
The question is all too familiar, of course, and as you allow the coin to be guided around the board, the word formed is exactly what you expected. 
“What? A fish?” everyone laughs in response, and just like in the canon series, the door abruptly slides open, revealing none other than the student council president himself. 
He starts berating everyone in the room, of course, but you're not really paying attention. 
Instead, you gaze at Itadori with a wistful smile, realizing that after today, you will no longer be part of his life.
There's no place for you by his side. It's simply too dangerous, and even if you were strong enough, you can't risk upsetting the delicate balance of this world. Everything will unfold the way it's supposed to, which means that your role here, albeit small as it was, is over. 
…or is it?
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dottores · 2 years ago
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HELIOTROPES
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pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine
notes: finally reader's pov! and YES, theta segment IS webttore! i started making the segment sheet, ill post it at some point sunday or monday so if u want to see it, keep an eye out for it!
THE COLOR PURPLE
“If anyone is to ask, your soulmark has gone black, your thread is severed, and your soulmate is lost to the world. Should anyone find out that your thread leads to the north, all of us will be under suspicion and Her Excellency is not merciful.”
You stood tall, hands clasped behind your back as you stood between your mother and your half-brother, listening to the Hydro Archon’s announcement. It was an abrupt assembly, as they typically had been lately. You had been preparing for bed when the bell rang throughout the massive palace that housed all of the nation’s aristocrats in the center of Fontaine’s capital city.
If you looked up, you would see the moon high in the sky, the stars glittering against the darkness, but you didn’t dare look away from the Hydro Archon or her court officials.
“... for months, we have allowed ourselves to be lenient with the heretics plaguing our capital. We allowed ourselves to be patient, but the time for leniency and patience is over, we must…”
It was an honor to be welcomed into the Hydro Archon’s abode, the chief justice had claimed, but you knew better. It was no honor for the nobles to be forced out of their countryside estates and into the city--it was a means for surveillance, to make sure that the most influential members of Fontaine’s society were not sympathizers to the growing dissent throughout the capital. 
The people were unhappy. The Hydro Archon was becoming more and more severe with her sentencing, more and more strict with her laws. Fontaine prided itself on being the center of culture and arts, but the nation was declining, their energy apparatuses were failing, and their judicial system was becoming corrupt, though no one dared to say it.
The Hydro Archon’s descent had to do with rebellion stirring in the north. You weren’t sure what it was, exactly, you didn’t think anyone really did, but you had heard your grandfather whispering about it vaguely with some of the other court officials--an uprising against the gods, one that she believed would draw the wrath of Celestia down upon all of Teyvat. You thought this might have begun as a noble cause, the Hydro Archon desperate to protect her people and keep Fontaine absolved of conspiring with Snezhnaya, but it was going to become a witch hunt where anyone with any affiliation to Snezhnaya would be found guilty of collusion. 
You felt acutely aware of the thread tied neatly around your thumb, of the soulmark branded in between your shoulder blades--the ones that connected you to a citizen of Snezhnaya and would make your whole family a target should anyone ever learn. 
You thought it was unfair. It was unfair that you had to hide the fact that you had a soulmate. It was unfair that you and your family would be under suspicion if it got out that your soulmate lived in the north. It was unfair that you had to deal with people gossiping about you because of it--because nothing good ever came along with someone that never received their mark. There were a lot of things unfair, you thought to yourself, and while you didn’t have it as bad as some of the civilians living in Fontaine City who had to deal with the Hydro Archon’s forces constantly prowling the streets looking for dissidents, you thought it was rather ironic that everything unfair about your life stemmed from Celestia’s decision to give people soulmates. 
You frowned as your gaze tracked to the side instinctively, looking at where your mother was standing next to you. Behind your mother, your stepfather lingered. You could feel him hovering directly behind her, you could see him out of the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t help the resentment that pooled in your stomach.
Your stepfather. Your mother’s soulmate. The man who had all but turned your life upside down when you were three years old after his arrival in Fontaine.
“... this organization is a blight upon our esteemed nation and court of law, staining the purity of our ideals, defiling our magnificence in the eyes of the divine…”
You tuned the Hydro Archon out as your gaze drifted back down to your own thread. Your soulmate was annoyed with something--you could feel the emotion deep in your gut, muted enough to know that it was not your own. Your soulmate never really felt anything strongly--not sadness, not fear, not anxiety, and certainly not happiness. You weren’t sure you had ever felt them actually happy before. 
They were angry sometimes, though, and annoyed occasionally. It was never overwhelming like you had overheard some of your peers talk about. They said sometimes it felt as if they could feel their soulmate’s emotions more intensely than their own--when they were angry, a burst of joy or excitement from their soulmate could ease their anger, or worse, when they were in a good mood, a surge of anger could have them lashing out at their friends and family for no reason. 
You never experienced any of that, for better or for worse. In fact, for nearly a year after your tenth birthday, the only proof you had that your soulmate was alive was that your mark was still brightly tattooed between your shoulder blades. They did not tug the string back in response to your own goodnight tugs--though you tried not to let it bother you--and you never really felt anything from them, pain nor emotions.
It wasn’t until you learned how to separate their tiny inflections from your own emotions that you had a way of knowing whether or not your soulmate was alive besides the shared mark and thread, but even then it was just… underwhelming. You didn’t know what to expect from your soulmate, which was unfortunate because by your age, most people at least had an idea of their soulmate’s personality through their shared emotions.
“Perhaps, it just means they’re calm,” your nanny, Miss Elyna, had tried to soothe you while you were making yourself upset over it one night. 
“Not feeling anything strongly is not a bad thing,” your father had agreed quietly, “it makes it easier to hide that you have one.”
But you didn’t want to hide, you were sick of hiding--you wanted to go looking for them, you wanted to travel to the frozen wastelands of Snezhnaya, you wanted to wear open-back dresses to show off your mark in hopes that someone had seen the match, you wanted to find them, and you wanted to be with them.
But if you wanted to be with them, it would mean leaving your country behind, leaving your family behind. So much as you might resent your stepfather, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving your father, your mother, Miss Elyna, or even your half-siblings. Unless the Hydro Archon changed her stance on Snezhnaya, you would be forced into an impossible decision: your blood or your soulmate.
You let out a quiet breath, shaking your head. From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of your stepfather, again. Donned in a lavender dress shirt with a fancy watch that once belonged to your mother’s late father, he looked like the image of Fontaine aristocracy despite hailing from the City of Freedom. 
Purple was your favorite color, it was your family’s color, but you hated how it looked draped against your stepfather’s skin. You felt irked again, unable to draw your gaze from the older man. You hated him--you hated how he treated your father, you hated how he treated you, and you hated how he was trying to pit your half-siblings against you. You knew you couldn’t fault your mother for wanting to be with her soulmate, but if this was her soulmate, you couldn’t help but wonder what that might mean about her.
Your throat felt tight as you forced yourself to look away, eyes instead falling on your grandfather standing at the Hydro Archon’s side as she spoke. He was Warden of the Black Cells, the highest security level of Fontaine’s prison--he was one of the Hydro Archon’s most trusted confidants, the one she counted on to make sure her enemies stayed locked deep beneath the lakes of the city. His eyes were sharp as he stared down at the aristocrats standing before him, reminiscent of a predator hunting its prey, waiting for someone to slip up and place themselves under suspicion. He paid particular attention to your stepfather, you couldn’t help but notice, and it made you almost want to giggle. 
The assembly was finally near its end, you could tell from the Hydro Archon’s tone: “... a curfew will be instated to preserve our-”
And then your arm burned--so intense that it took all your self-control to not cry out, somehow both hot and cold at the same time. It was dragging against your skin in even strokes as if branding letters onto you. You bit down hard on your lower lip, hand flying to clutch your forearm and trying not to make a scene. You could feel several pairs of eyes on you, including your mother, half-brother and stepfather… and your grandfather. 
Branding words. 
You felt light-headed as realization began to hit you. 
It was past midnight. 
It was your birthday, and you were fifteen. 
It was the start of the third phase, and the first time that words were shared between soulmates, the pain was excruciating. 
What terrible timing, you thought to yourself as your eyes teared up and your half-brother shifted in front of you once he noticed something was wrong, looking at you with a questioning look that you couldn’t even respond to.
Just as your vision began to go spotty, you caught sight of the words being seared into your skin--the same shade as the soulmark stamped between your shoulder blades, but only visible to you:
Deactivate. 
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“Do you think I won’t have you deactivated, Theta?” Dottore asked, voice calm but internally, his anger was rising as he looked down at the report in front of him detailing the near destruction of one of his labs down in southern Mondstadt and along with it, most of the progress that they had made the past six years in stabilizing delusions.
The Theta Segment looked unbothered, staring at Dottore emptily. “You won’t have me deactivated because you don’t have the resources to create a new segment right now. Otherwise you would have replaced Beta already, and you haven’t. Either way, deactivating me wouldn’t have prevented the situation unless you’ve figured out a way to endow segments with prophetic abilities,” Theta said, voice dry and mocking. 
Beta, Dottore inhaled, trying to reign in his temper as it spiked at the reminder of the Beta segment. His head was pounding--he had been dealing with setbacks in his own research, and the Balladeer was being less than forthcoming regarding information about the Abyss and Irminsul. He was losing his patience with it because the only reason Scaramouche was even capable of withstanding the hostile energy in the Abyss was because Dottore had unlocked his latent powers as an Archon’s creation.
He could by all means deactivate Theta, but Theta was right in that he didn’t have the resources to create another segment to replace him. He had all of the physical materials, despite how hard they were to come by, but he lost the connection to Irminsul he had in Snezhaya, drained the sprout of all of its energy, and he needed the connection to Irminsul to create the segments in the mindsets of his past self. There were rumors of other withered sprouts in the ruins of Vindagnyr--he had the Rho and Gamma segments searching through the bitter cold to try to find ways to revitalize the sprouts, but their efforts had been fruitless thus far. 
“Careful,” he warned quietly, looking up from the report to finally look at the Theta Segment, who stiffened a bit at Dottore’s tone. “You’re testing my patience.”
“There was nothing I could’ve done,” Theta’s voice was still sharp, defensive, which Dottore expected of the segment. Theta was the segment created right after his expulsion from the Akademiya--volatile, uncontrollable, always angry and always on edge. He never took well to being told that he did something wrong, Dottore was surprised it had taken him this long to snap.
“If it were Rho or Delta, they would have made the necessary preparation to deal with such a situation,” Dottore countered, reading through all of the reported damages and lost research. He pressed his lips together tightly as he realized that all of their research had been lost. It would set them back over a year, maybe two or three. “Instead, we-”
“Don’t compare me to them,” Theta bristled, hands fisting at his side, teeth clenched so tight that Dottore could practically hear them grinding. “Not to Delta.”
Dottore smiled thinly, “Then do not do things that make me compare you to them,” he said coldly. He leaned back in his seat, placing the papers down. “This was easily preventable, Theta.”
“How was I supposed to know about a stray wyvern nesting in the Mondstadt countryside?” Theta said, aggressive and loud. 
Dottore stared at him, “You research, Theta,” he responded, tone a bit more sharp. “You research the area where you plan to waste hundreds of thousands of mora building one of our labs to make sure that it’s a location conducive to our research. All of the older segments would have known to look into the property and the surrounding land before throwing away our limited mora. If you can’t even bother to make an effort to show a little bit of responsibility, you will be stripped of your independence and sent to the Fontaine border to assist Delta permanently, do you understand?”
“You can’t do that,” Theta hissed. “I’m not a child-”
“No, you’re not. You are a tool,” Dottore interrupted, “and tools do what they were created for and when they are no longer useful, they are disposed of.”
Theta turned to leave, fists balled tight at his side, Dottore spoke up again before he could walk away, “Did I dismiss you?” he asked. Theta stopped but did not turn to face Dottore. “You will go to Sumeru with Lambda. The two of you will work on replacing all of the lost research. You will explain to him the situation and why he is being forced to halt his part of the residue project. You have half a year to replace all of the lost research.”
“Or what?” Theta spit out. 
Dottore did not respond, he figured that was enough of an answer. 
You will be deactivated. 
Theta scoffed, shaking his head—and just like that, Dottore’s temper snapped. His hand shot forward quickly, iron-grip latching around Theta’s wrist as he yanked the segment closer to him, tone low and laced with poison as he leaned forward over the desk, “You have wasted far more resources than you are worth. Time and time again you have proven yourself to be the most useless segment that I’ve created. Tread carefully because your next mistake will be your last, I don’t care enough to replace you.”
Theta ripped his arm out of Dottore’s grasp, taking a step away. His lips were twisted, and his eyes were ablaze with rage, but he didn’t respond this time. 
Dottore looked back down at the desk, shuffling through the papers and looking for the one that he had been trying to get through before Theta had arrived to disrupt his peace.
“Leave,” he ordered, void of emotion as he relaxed back into his chair. “Now, and don’t ever bring up the Beta segment again.”
Theta didn’t say another word as he left the room, closing the door harshly behind him. Dottore let out a sharp exhale, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm himself down so he could refocus. Instinctually, his gaze drew to his other hand, where the thread was tied snugly around his thumb. 
His soulmate hadn’t tugged the thread tonight. He looked back to the window on the far end of the room, where the sky was dark and the stars shone brightly against the black canvas. He wondered if they had finally given up or if they just hadn’t fallen asleep yet--he wasn’t sure which he would prefer. Usually, he could tell when they fell asleep, but this time he had been distracted by Theta and wasn’t paying attention. 
Tonight would be the start of the third phase. 
He looked over to the side, in the direction of the chart that he had set up. He wouldn’t know the exact time, but it was soon, and he was glad he got Theta out of the room before it began. His thread had shown up in the dead of night ten years ago--he remembered the day very well--and he had dreaded this day ever since it had shown up. The third phase was a violation, a breach of his privacy. He did not want his thoughts being transcribed onto a random person at all, much less when he couldn’t even control what words were being sent to them.
This was when the concept of a soulmate really became an issue. They had already been a personal issue, but now it extended beyond just him. It was an issue for the whole organization because if one wrong word got transferred to them and they mentioned it around the wrong people, it could spell a lot of trouble for the Fatui and their goals. 
He should have gone to the Jester by now. He should have gone to him and told him the situation so they could work to track down his soulmate before it got to this point before it put the Fatui at risk. He didn’t know why he hadn’t yet. Something odd and unfamiliar tugged at his gut, an emotion he couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t from his soulmate, he could feel that much, but he convinced himself it was. 
You haven’t gone to the Jester because you’re going to sever the bond, he reminded himself, and then this would become a nonissue. But it was not as easy as he thought it would be. There was no previous research done into severing a bond between soulmates, there were old folktales but no legit information to back the validity of them. Dottore had a feeling that Irminsul would have answers for him and he found it ironic that the tree seemed to be the root of all of his most recent issues--he had half a mind to burn the thing to the ground when he finally got to it. 
Just as he was going to finally force himself to focus back on the report, he felt it--a searing pain in his left forearm, nothing compared to what he had dealt with before but he hadn’t expected it to be as intense as it was. 
He paused only for a second before rolling up his sleeve.
Purple, the word said, and Dottore couldn’t help but shake his head. He wasn’t sure what he had been anticipating from them, but he supposed that a color was about as predictable as it could get. 
He wondered what they might have gotten from him--it could’ve been anything from his argument with Theta to his thoughts on Irminsul. He hoped that it wasn’t the latter. He felt stressed suddenly, rubbing his temples and letting his eyes slide shut as he tried to figure out what he could do, if there was a way that he could control his thoughts and filter out what they could be receiving from him. 
He didn’t think there was, realistically. He had done a lot of research trying to prepare for this day, and he had come up empty-handed. The only way to prevent his soulmate from receiving words he didn’t want them to receive was to stop thinking about them, and that wasn’t an option. He had work to do, research to complete, and he refused to let them interfere more than they already had. 
Hesitating for a second, he reached for a notebook laid out on the desk next to him, jotting down the word he had received before pushing the notebook out of sight and pushing his soulmate out of mind, returning to the heaps of papers he had to get through before the night was up.
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You lounged in the garden, relaxing to the soft scent of lilies beneath the gentle glow of the sunset over the horizon. You could hear a songbird chirping in the distance, people chattering in the streets as they made their way back to their homes before curfew, the quiet hum of the apparatuses set up throughout the garden to keep the flora rich and healthy. It wasn’t raining, for once. You swore that the past two weeks had been nothing but torrential downpour, you’d been trapped inside the library of the palace, spending your time reading old tales of forbidden love and the old gods.  
You didn’t like being in Fontaine City. It was always muggy and ugly outside, it was usually raining, and even when the skies were clear, there was a strange, intense mechanical scent that made your head hurt--the only place free of it was the garden on the roof of the palace, but even then, sometimes the sweetness of the flowers was sickly. You wanted to return to the countryside, to your mother’s family estate near the Snezhnayan border where the air was brisk and fresh, and the grass was lush and green, the thick scent of the wild and the subtle scent of smoke from the estate’s fireplace being the ones most familiar and dear to your heart.
You sighed as you rested your head against the cool stone of the statue you were sitting against, pen tapping steadily against your notebook as your eyes grazed over the past few words that you had received from your soulmate: sever, residue, research, failure. 
You couldn’t make much sense of it, you had thought two years ago that maybe you would finally get to know more about your soulmate now that you were sharing thoughts, but you found yourself at even more of a loss than you were at before. They were a complete mystery to you. They thought words in the old tongue rather often--Theta, Iota, Lambda, and Delta, most frequently but there were others that appeared less often: Kappa, Rho, Gamma, Epsilon, Zeta—and no one really knew the old tongue unless they were an academic or some sort of priest of the dead gods. 
And even the thoughts you received in the common tongue were just strange, and you didn’t even understand half of them. Ever since the start of the third phase, you seemed to spend the majority of your days in the palace’s libraries trying to understand them by looking up the random words that were showing up on your forearm, but somehow, it only left you more confused.
You thought that maybe they were a scholar at Sumeru’s Akademiya who had traveled north for research. Fontaine had its own institute, but it focused on engineering and mechanics, not languages, and students who graduated from the institute typically remained in Fontaine unless they were granted leave to introduce and promote their invention to other nations… and even then, they would never be granted leave to Snezhnaya, but as far as you were aware, the Akademiya did not have such restrictions. 
It would be better for you if that were the case--that way, your soulmate wasn’t a citizen of Snezhnaya, and you didn’t have to worry about being prosecuted by the Hydro Archon for treason.
You hummed to yourself, doodling on the corner of your notebook as you eyed the word that was currently branded against your forearm: dead. It followed the string of words you had received earlier in the day--normally, you only received one word from them a day, two if you were lucky, but since you woke up this morning, you’d gone through five words.
You bit down on your bottom lip, hesitating before you finally noted the word down beneath failure, adding it to the grouping you had made for today. Sever, residue, research, failure, dead. Not foreboding at all, you thought to yourself, trying to put together what it all might mean. You weren’t sure how the first word fit in with the rest, but you figured the other four were all related.
Research into some sort of residue? What residue? Failed in whatever they were doing, something or someone ended up dead.
They didn’t seem distressed about it, so you supposed that no one important to them got hurt or died… or if they did, your soulmate simply did not care… and it kind of worried you that you genuinely did not know them well enough to know which was the case. You sighed, a pout tugging at your lips as you looked away from your notebook and up to the sky. 
There was another storm already rolling in, you could see the dark clouds in the distance. You didn’t know what to think about your soulmate. You got strange words from them, you never felt anything from them sans the occasional annoyance or anger, and they never responded to your tugs when you tried to tell them goodnight. 
You supposed it hurt a bit. Your whole life, you had watched kids your age babbling on, excited about their soulmate. You watched them have invisible flicking competitions that only the two of them could follow--seeing who could flick the thread the most before the other person gave up. You watched the way they reacted to feeling waves of emotions from them. You watched the way they would all giggle and talk about the words they received--figuring out their favorite colors, their favorite foods, what they liked to do and maybe even narrow down to where they might be living. You watched as they blushed and got flustered when it became apparent that their soulmate was thinking of them.
You couldn’t do any of that--not only because your soulmate was from, or lived in, Snezhnaya, so you couldn’t even talk to anyone your age about them but also because you weren’t experiencing any of that with your soulmate anyway. Every time you tried to get them to flick the thread back, you were ignored, and your soulmate never thought about you, the most frequent words you received from them were deactivate, failure, and sever. You didn’t know what deactivate meant, you assumed failure was in regards to whatever research they kept thinking about, and you had no idea what they were trying to sever. 
It was frustrating and upsetting. You just wanted a soulmate that you could be with like your peers, someone to be excited about and look forward to. And you were excited, and you did look forward to eventually meeting them, but you couldn’t help but be a bit bummed and anxious over it all.
Three years. 
You were seventeen now. There were three years left until you and your soulmate entered the fourth and final stage--being able to communicate through the shared thoughts and then you would finally get some answers from them.
“There you are.”
You slammed your notebook shut, eyes wide as your head snapped to the side, gaze falling upon your half-siblings, Elliot and Sylvie, approaching you from behind. You smiled as best as you could, trying to glance around to make sure that their father wasn’t following them.
“He’s busy with mother at a meeting,” Sylvie said quietly, eyes lit up with a sort of mischief that you hadn’t seen in her for quite a bit. “We snuck out.”
She spoke hushed, as if the flowers around them might tell her father what she was saying. You supposed it was possible--you wouldn’t put it past the Hydro Archon and the court officials to install listening devices throughout the city to make sure that no one was conspiring against them. 
“How did you sneak past Miss Elyna?” you asked her as the two of them came to sit cross-legged with you on the ground next to a bed of pretty pink flowers. 
They were almost fourteen years old now. Both of them had been born with their marks, so they and their soulmates would be entering the third phase soon too. They were excited, constantly whispering about what they thought their soulmate would be like. You remembered when you had been like that, bouncing around in bed as you rattled off possibilities to Miss Elyna because you had no one else to talk to about it. 
Now, you only felt a dull sense of disappointment.
“She wasn’t looking, so we snuck out the door and ran,” Elliot told you, a bright smile on his face. You doubted that was the case—Miss Elyna had the senses of a hawk, it was more likely she let them leave because it’s their only chance to spend time with you without their father hovering and dragging them away.
You hated their father. At one point, you had been hopeful. You thought that your mother meeting her soulmate would change little in the way your family worked. Your father was more than happy to step aside and let your mother find solace with her fated, but it wasn’t enough for your stepfather. He wanted your father gone and he wanted your brother to replace you as your mother’s heir, but you had no way of proving it. He hid the rotting carcass he called a personality behind a kind smile and empty eyes that your mother refused to look past.
“Can you tell us what it’s like?” Sylvie whispered, drawing you from your thoughts. Your brow furrowed in confusion, shooting her a questioning look, but Sylvie only looked pointedly down at your notebook.
Your eyes widened, instinctively tucking the notebook closer to your chest. Your lips and mouth felt dry as you stared at your half-siblings, trying to figure out if Sylvie was implying that she knew that you had a soulmate. No one should know—no one besides your father and mother and Miss Elyna. You had worried the day you received your first word from your soulmate would draw suspicion, but your father had brushed any unwanted eyes off by telling them you had been ill.
No one should know, you felt sick and anxious, unsure of how to respond to Sylvie--both of them were looking at you expectantly, excited for an answer. 
“It’s okay,” Elliot said, once he realized how upset you suddenly looked. “We’ve known for a while, we won’t-”
“Elliot! Sylvie, have you seen-” 
It was Miss Elyna, out of breath and on the verge of tears--she cut herself off as soon as she saw you hidden behind the statue. You rose to your feet, concerned, “Miss Ely-”
“It’s your father,” Miss Elyna said, voice choked and wobbly. At once, the world around you shattered. “Come, we must hurry.”
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“I suppose I owe you thanks,” a familiar voice murmured, approaching Dottore from behind. He tilted his head to the side, glancing over his shoulder to where his old recruit, now promoted to the Ninth seat as the Fatui’s Regrator, came to a stop next to the column that Dottore was leaning against, waiting for his chance to slip away from the celebrations. 
“Thank me with funding,” Dottore said. “I’ve exhausted all of my resources. I’ll need a significant amount of mora and test subjects to begin research into Archon residue if we want to find a safer alternative to delusions any time soon… which I’m sure you’d be personally vested in and I am not cutting the funding from my own personal projects.”
Pantalone let out a huff of laughter, Dottore was not sure what exactly the new Harbinger found amusing about what he said so he turned to face him, lips flat and eyes void of emotion behind the mask he wore.
“Relax, doctor,” Pantalone said quietly. “I have not forgotten about our original deal. Have you not already seen an increase since my induction into the Fatui?” 
“Not a large enough increase in comparison to the risks I took advocating for you,” Dottore said coldly, looking away from him up to where the Jester was preparing with the Captain for the official inauguration of Pantalone as one of the Eleven Harbingers. “Go, this event has lasted long enough. As soon as all of the official business is over with, I can leave.”
Pantalone did not look pleased, lips pressed together tight as his gaze swept across the large room. All of the higher-ranked members of the Fatui based in Snezhnaya were attending the event--agents trained by Arlecchino, vanguard captains trained by Capitano, even some mages and Mirror Maidens that had gone through La Signora’s strict training regiments lingered around where the Eighth Harbinger was lounging back at one of the tables. She looked just as ready for the night to be over as Dottore was. 
Pantalone looked anxious, only thinly concealed behind an otherwise blank expression, and Dottore supposed he couldn’t blame him. All of the people in this room were the people that had been considered and rejected for the Ninth Seat in favor of him. The Fatui were united, yes, but their loyalty only went so far when the prospect of a promotion was dangled in front of their face. Not a single person in this room would forego the chance of taking out the new Harbinger if it gave them a shot at being one of the Eleven. 
They had tried it with him centuries ago, when Dottore had initially been promoted to Harbinger. The Fatui was a younger organization then, less structured and far more anarchic, and there had been more attempts on his life than he could count. Only one had succeeded, and he had made it so that it could never happen again. 
Now that he had centuries of authority, his moniker inducing fear and respect throughout their ranks for all of his accomplishments, he didn’t have to worry much about greedy, ambitious underlings trying to take off his head and claim his position.
But the Regrator would have more trouble, he noted to himself. 
Something felt odd in his chest--a twinge of anxiety, or fear. It was not his own, and he had been blocking off his segments for the duration of the night so he was not interrupted while at an important event. He could only assume that it was coming from his soulmate. He frowned to himself, eyes darting down to his forearm but it was covered by his sleeve, and he would draw too much attention to himself should he go to check if the word had changed. 
Instead, he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand.
Pantalone was no fighter, his delusion harmed him as much as it helped him--more so than it did to the average person--it tore apart his body from the inside whenever he summoned the volatile energy, and he couldn’t even control the energy yet. He was incompetent with a sword, couldn’t pick up a claymore, and was awkward with a polearm. He was decent with aiming a bow, but that would be useless in a close combat assassination like the ones that would be attempted on him. If he were attacked, the only real defense he had would be that decorative blade strapped to his waist. 
Dottore wondered if it would be worth it to enlist Sandrone in creating a sort of projectile weapon that could be used both in close and ranged combat… but that was not something he was going to waste his own time doing, he would present the option to Pantalone only once Dottore’s funding has been increased significantly.
“Is funding the only thing you want?” Pantalone suddenly asked, voice cryptic in a way that Dottore did not like. He peered at the younger man from the corner of his eye, waiting for him to explain himself. But he didn’t, instead, violet eyes only looked down pointedly at Dottore’s right hand--the hand that his red thread was tied around his thumb. Dottore inhaled, not responding, and finally, Pantalone continued, “I’m just saying, I have other resources, connections… should you need to find something,”
Someone. 
Dottore was livid, he could feel his anger rising, and he could feel that strange anxiety begin to get worse from his soulmate’s end, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that now--was it a taunt? A threat? Or a genuine offer of help? 
Either way, Dottore didn’t like it. No one should know about the thread tied around his thumb. No one should know that he had a soulmate. Did one of the segments let it slip? Did they mention it in public? It was possible, but Dottore doubted it--the younger segments were never around people and the older segments knew better, even Theta. They knew very well that even if they had no interest in meeting their soulmate after all of these years, that if their soulmate died, it would cause irreparable damage to all of them. 
They would not risk it. 
So then how-
“If you’re wondering how… I’m very observant, that’s all,” Pantalone interrupted his thoughts, watching him carefully. “I had to be, considering my lifestyle before you recruited me into the Fatui. Abrupt movements for no apparent reason, flinches, stiffening, sudden jerks… a gaze flickering down just a bit too often… tucking a thumb into your fist--I learned to watch for certain tells to find weak points in my enemies...”
Dottore unfisted his right hand immediately, not moving nor responding even as Pantalone stared at him expectantly, waiting for a response. He felt like a fool, and he hated feeling like a fool. He wanted to say something, make a dry comment about how yes, of course the way he held his hand meant that he had a soulmate, but his lips wouldn’t move and he wasn’t sure if responding would be more damning because Pantalone hadn’t even said the word soulmate yet anyway, only implied it.
“... but we are not enemies, so you need not worry. It’s not something I plan to use against you… just offering some extra resources. If you need them, just let me know,” Pantalone finally said, the heels of his boots clicking against the marble ground as he began to make his way past Dottore toward where Pierro and Capitano were waiting for him. “You know where to find me.”
Damn all of the subordinates looking for a quick promotion, Dottore had half a mind to kill Pantalone himself, right there in front of everybody. His rage was clouding his mind, a wicked storm about to break through the calm facade. He felt like he was young again, the years just after he was kicked out of the Akademiya when he was brewing with uncontrollable fury and a switch that could flip on or off at any given moment with no warning. 
He forced himself to leave. He would deal with the Jester and his complaints about his premature departure later, he was certain that if he remained there any longer, blood would be spilled and all of Dottore’s efforts to get himself more funding would go straight down the drain. 
He couldn’t tell anymore if the anxiety he was feeling was from himself or his soulmate. The corridor around him swayed like he was on a ship sailing through the rough, northern sea. He had been so careful to keep it hidden and the way he positioned his hand gave it away? There was no way. Pantalone had to have been throwing out a wild guess and hoping for confirmation--his only hope was that he had been able to keep his face devoid of the anger that was twisting his insides, that he hadn’t given Pantalone any reason to believe his suspicions had been correct. 
His chest felt tight--like he couldn’t breathe properly, which was ridiculous because he was breathing but it felt like he wasn’t getting enough air to his lungs. He didn’t know what this was. It was not something he had ever felt before, and that meant it had to be coming from them, his soulmate--he cursed himself for giving in to his own bout of emotion, a show of weakness that allowed their emotions to engulf his and he didn’t know how to fix it now that the spiral had begun. 
Unless it wasn’t emotions, and that was why it was so intense.
Were they getting strangled?
It didn’t make any sense, he would be able to feel the hands around their throat, the bruises forming against their skin. 
He leaned against the wall of the corridor he had escaped down, only dimly lit by a candle halfway down the hall--far enough from the event that he shouldn’t have to worry about anyone stumbling upon him while he was like this. He pulled off his mask, pressing a hand hard against his chest, right over where his heart would’ve been. 
Calm down, he wanted to spit out at them, his rage blending with his soulmate’s anxiety and fear. Calm down.
This was not the place. He could hear the Jester speaking in the distance, he could hear the crowds of people applauding dutifully at the official announcement of the Regrator’s position, he could see the shadows of people walking just a bit too close to the side hall for his own comfort. 
He was being overwhelmed, and he had never been overwhelmed by someone before, not like this. His fury was subsiding, being replaced by his soulmate’s intense surge of emotions. He had never felt anything like this before, and he wasn’t sure what it was or how to describe it. It felt as if the walls were closing in around him, as if someone was dragging jagged nails down the inside of his throat, as if his blood had turned into lead—thick and heavy, weighing his whole body down.
He couldn’t even tell what was wrong, he couldn’t tell if the pain was physical or emotional. Was his soulmate dying? Was that it? The thought made his stomach churn, wondering what that would mean for him, if he would become the husk that all widowers became after their mark went black. 
No, he told himself, you are stronger. 
The Captain was able to move on from the death of his soulmate. Dottore had seen the blackened mark himself when the man asked him to fix up his arm after a challenge had gone wrong years ago against one of the ancient gods of the far north. 
Had he moved on? Dottore questioned himself, or was he just a shell of himself, moving on autopilot to bring the divine to their knees before he could join his soulmate in the next life?
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter whether or not Capitano had been able to move on because Dottore would--he was above man, above mortal. He refused to let something as inconsequential as the death of a stranger inhibit his research, and obstruct him from his goals. He refused to let nearly five hundred years go to waste. 
But he wasn’t sure, no matter how much he insisted to himself that it didn’t matter. He wasn’t confident he would be able to brush it off, and the uncertainty was damning because the thought of his soulmate—who would be no older than sixteen or seventeen now, a year or two older than the Gamma segment—dying such a brutal and untimely death made him sick to his stomach for reasons beyond just selfish ones, reasons that he didn’t dare try to delineate.
Celestia is cruel, he thought to himself as this situation forced him to come to terms with what he had been pushing away for over a decade. Because they were not just a stranger, so much as he tried to convince himself of it. Dottore was a pragmatic man at heart, and he knew himself very well, no matter how much the past twelve years have tested his sense of identity. From the moment he had noticed that thread and felt those childish little tugs, Dottore had formed an attachment to the person on the other side. He was selfish and possessive, and he had never in his life had something that was so fundamentally meant to be his before and he didn’t want the gods to take yet another thing from him--he convinced himself it was more out of pride, out of anger toward Celestia than out of fear. 
He had known it was too good to be true from the start. He knew that the gods would dangle his soulmate in front of his face like meat to a starved dog--it was why he was so intent on finding a way to sever the thread before this could happen. He knew that they would let him get accustomed to their distant presence, they would let him get accustomed to the goodnight tugs and the frequent swells of emotion that he was not capable of feeling on his own. They would even let it get to the point where he was beginning to accept it, noting down all of the words that were transferred to him in hopes to find clues regarding where they were… in hopes of getting to learn more about them—who they were, why they were meant to be his fated. 
He knew that they would let this all happen, and he knew that they would rip it away, and he let himself fall for the trap they had laid out anyway.
Dottore was a fool. He had always been one, but the past decade or so had truly made a comedy of it in the eyes of the divine. 
His fingers fumbled for the buttons on the cuff of his dress shirt, trying to see which words would be branded on his skin for eternity--to see if it would give any sort of hint as to who they were, or where they were, or what happened to them so if the opportunity ever arose, he could deal back tenfold to the person that did this.
Father
He paused, taken aback for a second. Was their father the perpetrator? If that was the case, it might not be all too hard to find the culprit--filicide was considered taboo across all seven nations… but Dottore had a feeling that it wasn’t so simple because him being startled at the word gave him the bit of clarity he needed to compartmentalize and digest all of the stray emotions tearing through him.
It was not physical pain, he realized, trying to pinpoint what exactly it was. He had gotten better at deciphering emotions over the past seven years, but whatever this was, it was still foreign to him. The only consolation he had was that he couldn’t feel his body weakening, he couldn’t feel any physical pain. The thread was still bright and very much connected to him.
And the intensity was fading--albeit at a snail’s pace, but it was fading. It was becoming something heavier, more oppressive, as if the weight of the world was being tossed onto his shoulders.
Grief, he slowly recognized, this must be grief.
Grief. He had never experienced grief before. Not like this. He had mourned failed experiments, he had mourned the loss of his resources, he had mourned wasted time but he had never experienced an emotion like this before.  
He felt relieved knowing that his soulmate was not, in fact, dying, knowing that he didn’t have to stress about figuring out how he was going to move on when Celestia damned all those who had lost their soulmates to desolation, knowing that he would not have to deal with his segments losing their minds over this but at the same time-
“Dottore.”
He was not even able to dwell on his train of thought, forced to try to compose himself as a familiar voice met his ears. Now back in control of himself, getting ahold of the unwelcome emotions still crawling around inside of him, Dottore could focus. He tucked away the feelings deep within him as he straightened, slipping his mask back on and rolling his sleeve down as discreetly as he could. 
He looked over his shoulder to where Brighella was standing several feet away, a glass of wine in his hand, green eyes beady and curious as he spoke, “Is something wrong?”
He spoke with a sort of faux care that made Dottore irrationally annoyed because he knew very well that it was just that--faux. He wanted something. Brighella always wanted something and Dottore wasn’t particularly in the mood to humor him this time, lips twisting down as the man brought it upon himself to draw closer to Dottore. 
“No,” Dottore answered shortly. “Why are you not attending the event?”
“I could ask the same of you,” Brighella’s response was challenging and quick. Dottore raised his eyebrows beneath his mask, not that Brighella could tell, but the other Harbinger quickly grew uncomfortable in the silence, letting out a sheepish laugh, nervous gaze flicking back and forth. “Ha, sorry. I’ve had a few drinks, you know how it gets-”
“I do not,” Dottore said, voice icy as he observed the man.
Dottore had never been particularly good at reading people. He spent more time in his lab than socializing, even during his years at the Akademiya, and the only use he found for humans once he joined the Fatui was utilizing them to make advances in his research. But he could tell something was off, Brighella’s eyes were too sharp--they didn’t have the drunken glaze that they usually did when the man had been drinking.
Was he faking it?
Dottore didn’t think so. Brighella reeked of alcohol, and he seemed off-balanced, and Dottore didn’t think that he could really fake much of anything to anyone, much less to Dottore. He was always skittish and anxious around higher-ranked members of the Harbingers, but something wasn’t sitting right with him. Dottore thought-
“Oh god, I didn’t mean-”
Dottore stared down at his stained clothes, at the red wine seeping through his white dress shirt, sticky against his skin. Dottore’s lips twisted, barely restraining the resurfacing fury and Brighella was panicked, stuttering over his words as he apologized, stumbling over his own feet as he searched for something to use as a cloth or napkin to clean up the mess he had made. 
Dottore only inhaled sharply, turning on his heel and ignoring the calls after him as he made his way down the hall in the direction of his quarters for the night. 
Tonight had been a trainwreck, he thought to himself bitterly. Between Pantalone, his soulmate, and now the drunkard that called himself a Harbinger, Dottore swore he was on the verge of losing his mind. 
Ever since the red thread had appeared on his thumb twelve years ago, he had been losing control. He was losing control of his segments, he was losing control of all of the carefully calculated plans he had created, he was losing control of himself, and tonight was proof enough of that. 
He was done. 
He would figure out a way to sever the damned thread before this got any further. It was too close of a call for comfort--he didn’t know how the death of his soulmate would affect him, and it was a gamble that he wasn’t willing to take. He couldn’t afford to let something like this happen again, especially in public. It made him seem weak in front of those that would use it against him—and Dottore was not weak. He was sick of being strung around like a marionette by the emotions of a child.
And if there was not a way to sever the thread, then he would make a way. 
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bitchy-craft · 1 year ago
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What Love Will Come Your Way | Pick A Pile
Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what kind of love will come your way. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.
Masterpost > Questions > Paid Readings
Pick A Pile!
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Pile 1:
This is the only pile where the kind of love won’t come from the outside. The kind of love that will come your way will come from yourself, self-love you’ll gain. Something in you will change that makes you realize you’re so much more worth than you made yourself believe. You will stop constantly comparing yourself to others, to things others have made. You’ll learn how to start chasing your dreams and not chase what you thought you needed.
You’ll get closer to finding out who you really are, you’ll make realizations that might sting at first but will find peace with. You’ll not only grow in your self-awareness but also as a person.
If you ever feel like you’re not growing or not developing whatever it is you want to get better at, you’ll see it soon, you’ll realize it soon, and you’ll be so proud of yourself. For some of you this feeling of confidence might feel a bit uncomfortable or odd since you’re not used to feeling this kind of love for yourself. The kind of love that will come your way, is self-love.
Pile 2:
A love of friendship will come your way, a kind of love you might not realize is a form of love. It will be given in a playful manner, in ways where you get excited and creative. In ways where you’ll have fun and your mind goes wild with excitement. It won’t be slow or unnoticeable, it will be a lot and obvious, it’s just that this kind of love isn’t always recognized as such.
This love will make you more confident in the things you like to do. As example; if you like to draw but find your art ugly, you’ll learn to find it beautiful and enjoyable to look at over time. You’ll be able to share the love that you’ll gain with friends and family, with pets and everyone around you because of stories you can tell, because of energy you’ll subconsciously share when you think about all these beautiful happenings that will come your way. Playful love will come your way.
Pile 3:
Trust. You’ll gain a new connection where the amount of love you guys share will result into trust. You’ll finally have someone you can fully be yourself with, even if you might think you already have a person like that. You’ll be able to talk to each other about your deepest and darkest secrets, be able to get advice on it and put your mind to rest.
You’ll find this new love precious, you’ll adore it and love it will all you have. You’ll make sure they won’t get hurt just like they’ll make sure you won’t get hurt, you’ll make each other feel happy and safe. Not only you will be affected by this love, people around you will notice how you’ll be way calmer than before, and how good you feel in your skin. The love that will come your way is a person, a friend, a love.
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commanderyes · 8 months ago
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The Commander Says Goodbye
I’m not going to lie, I’m extremely anxious as i’m writing this, out of what these news could mean to a lot of people, and my heart feels heavy enough it could drop down my ribcage any minute from now and squish all my other organs. But I’ve been dancing around this topic for a long time now, and I think i’ve finally reached a point where i can’t ignore it anymore, for my own sake.
I hereby announce Commander Yes has come to an end.
As I’ve mentioned plenty of times before, here and to many other people, when I began this comic all the way back in 2018 I was in a really bad, really low place in my life in every sense of the word, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision to cheer myself up, because Path of Fire had just released and my enjoyment of the game had reached fever pitch and I had been playing Guild Wars 2 alone since as far as launch, and none of my other friends had ever really gotten into it. I guess I just, dunno, cried out into the big maelstrom of the community, one voice amidst millions, because i wanted SOMEBODY to look at what i did and revel in the nerdery with me.
And somehow the snowball began to roll and people wanted more and more of what I could do, and I was being actively reached out to, and, well, some time after that I landed my first ever job, I discovered a lot of things about myself, and I found myself in communities that welcomed me with open arms, and many of the people in there have since become among the best friends I could’ve possibly encountered, kindred souls who i’ve shared joys and sorrows for many years and who I can’t imagine living without anymore.
And all the while I kept making the comics, and with every entry posted every week I’d keep having people stopping to comment on them, and whether they were dumb jokes or personal takes on the story, they’d all share how much what I do kept hitting them in the kokoro, and to this day whenever I play anywhere in the game I still get people who recognize me and thank me for doing what I do. It was wonderful, it IS wonderful, and seeing that response motivated me to keep going, because what did still mattered to people, out there.
But I did always say I planned to keep doing these comics until I ran out of energy for them, and I think i’ve finally reached that point.
Because ever since I actually landed that job I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived every other day, so much so that I only have time to work on the comic on saturdays and sundays, and it gets harder and harder to just sit and draw, and at that point it was just more work, and while I still enjoy and play Guild Wars 2 a lot, it no longer consumes my time and attention like I’ve used to and i’ve been having fun with more personal projects, and honestly the direction the story is taking these days does not sit right with me and it’s hard to find inspiration in that, and this might be borderline selfish but every year I find people care less and less about the comics and it really takes a hit to you motivation when hardly anybody responds after you’ve spent a whole weekend trying to squeeze a five-page comic out.
And, well, I have been doing these for six years straight, and I think that’s a good run. I’m tired, and ready to move on, at long last. Let it be someone else’s turn.
But that’s the beautiful thing about this community, isn’t it? Even if I’m hanging up the hat, there are a whole lot of fantastic artists out there, as we speak, still cranking out works of art, deserving of all the attention they can get. And think of all the artists yet to come! For every story that ends, another story is just about to begin!
The world keeps on spinning, one way or another.
I’ll be closing my patreon shortly after this, but the reddit archives and tumblr blog shall remain for people to browse whenever they feel like (or until they both go in flames, i guess, what social media isn’t about to these days)
I still don’t think I ever was that much of a big deal, but all the same, to everyone who’s ever supported me and helped me be the person I am right now, to everyone who’s been there from the beginning, to all the devs of this game that has captured us for nearly a decade now, to all my fellow players and artists out there
Thank you.
See you out there, fellow commanders. Still the stars find their way.
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misomiho · 11 months ago
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𝙅𝙅𝙆 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙗𝙪𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮'𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𖤐⭒๋࣭
Part 1 ☆Part 2
Genre: sfw and tooth rotting fluff
Pairing: JJK x Fem!Reader |Inumaki, Nanami,Maki,Okkotsu|
A/N: hi! this is like my first time ever to post after half a year :[ I'm so sorry!
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𝙄𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚 ⭑
→He was panicking inside a little bit, poor boy. You always shared everything with him and always liked everything you came in contact with so it's impossible to narrow everything in to one.
→He was rummaging through his things when a magazine with a guitar picture imprinted on it flew on top of his head, that gave him an idea.
"Inumaki, here's the thing you asked for..!"
"salmon"
"Is it for (Y/N)..?!"
"salmon"
"Ohh, didn't know you were that romantic!"
"bonito flakes!"
→He gave you a guitar pick he customized himself, he always loved how your voice sounded and the way you strang the guitar's strings. He badly wanted to tell you how your voice is so angelic.
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𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤 ⭑
→Kento is an old fashioned guy, romantic I might say. He didn't find it hard to give you the gifts that would make your heart squeeze.
→He pondered on how you always seemed to like flowers but he already gave you one last time so he found a way to give you one but with a twist.
"Is this all the flowers, sir..?"
"Yes but I have a question in mind"
"May I hear it..?"
"Do you mind teaching me about flower arrangements? I can pay for the lesson"
"Oh..no need sir! I am willing to teach you so"
→What he made isn't exactly the best (in his opinion) but the effort, time, and love he put in to them is more than enough to make you happy.
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𝙕𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙞 ⭑
→She didn't really specialize in this kind of things since picking one always ends up in a calamity. She remembered how she gave you a weapon once as a gift.
→She was about to head out when a paper slipped past infront of her. It was one of your sketches of her.
"Oh no, I'm out of paper in my sketchbook..!"
"I'm not surprised, you're always sketching every second"
"How can I not when you're so pretty to draw"
"..."
"It's true..!"
→Maki gave you another sketchbook, a thicker one where it would take awhile to ran out of paper. She secretly likes it when you draw her.
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𝙊𝙠𝙠𝙤𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙔𝙪𝙩𝙖 ⭑
→He almost forgot! probably because of how stressed he was and was worrying about what you would've liked.
→He asked Maki for advice! he thought that since you're both girls, she might be able to help pick one for you!
→They were both chaotic as hell, Maki even teased him a little bit when Yuta finally saw the 'perfect' gift.
"Yutaaaa! this is so adorable...!"
"I'm sorry, it was kind of rushed and-"
"No..! I like it and it's the best, I can now have something to cuddle with"
"That kind of hurts, I'm here you know..."
"Well..."
"Hey..!"
"I'm kidding..! I have an exception for you!"
→He gave you a plushie of your favorite animal, he once saw you admiring principal Yaga's cursed corpses and recalled how you wanted one of them! it was not as cool as the ones imbued with curse energy but it was special to you nonetheless.
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familyvideostevie · 1 year ago
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takin' a breath
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for @strangerfreaks <3 simply put, you love being in love with sirius black. you just never realized other people noticed all that much. | fluff, established relationship, the general idea that love is lovely, 1.8k
No matter how many times you check your watch, the hands don't tick backwards. You're going to be late.
Nothing to be done about it, you suppose. Sirius is always late, anyway, though he'd texted you he was on the train so he might arrive at the bar before you. Your own train slows and the speaker reads out your station in a clipped tone. You step on to the platform and the strangest thing happens -- the air changes, somehow. Like someone is looking at you. In the moment before you turn around you hear your name in a voice you know very well and when you do turn, there he is.
"Were we on the same train?" Sirius asks as people stream past you towards the exit. "I don't think this has ever happened to me before."
"Different cars," you say.
"Fancy that." He holds out his arm once he reaches you and you hook yours through it and head towards the escalators. "You look lovely," he says. "Are we late?"
"Well, you're always late," you remind him. He rolls his eyes. "I meant to be there ten minutes ago." Sirius smooths down the collar of your coat and you allow yourself to admire him.
You never get tired of his face -- he's handsome in an edgy way, a way that makes you look away at first and then draws you back in. You're very familiar with how he looks by now. The slope of his nose, the intense line of his eyebrows and the length of his lashes. His eyes are dark, deep, mysterious. The rings in his nose and his ears stand out, gold against his otherwise dark features, and his hair begs for you to run your fingers through it.
He tolerates your staring. You know he likes it but you're kind enough not to call him out. "Remus texted me that they're all going to be at least a half hour. Bus is stuck in traffic."
You step off the escalator and emerge onto the street, the chill of the fall evening wrapping around you both. You press a bit closer to him. "Guess it's just us for now."
He hums. "How was your day?"
"Nothing of note. You?"
Sirius turns into you a little bit to speak as a truck passes. He smells like tobacco and the spicy cologne you bought him for his birthday. "By lunch I was ready to get out of there."
"You always are."
He's always on the go, your boyfriend, always looking for the next thing. Everyone who knew him before you met tells you the same thing -- he's wild, spontaneous, full of energy, but with you, he seems to become a centered version of himself. Not like you've changed him, not quite, but like he feels it's okay to slow down because you're around. He takes a breath, lets the somewhat permanent scowl settle into something calmer. You feel it too, like being near him is the most natural thing in the world. Puzzle pieces that fit, magnets that snap together, every cliche in the book fits.
The night is quiet, for the most part, so when you finally get to the bar and go inside the noise is a bit jarring. There's music and chatter, the clink of glasses and chairs scraping on the floor as they're pulled to new tables. You head for the bar and unwind your arm from Sirius's. He makes grabby hands so you undo your coat and turn around, shaking it off and into his arms.
"Do you want me to do drinks or find a table?" he asks, breath hot on your cheek as he leans in to ask.
"I'll do drinks," you say. "You got them last time. Do you want the usual?" He nods, squeezes your elbow and heads off to find a table with a wink.
You wait patiently and wonder what you're going to order. Sirius always gets a pint of whatever dark beer they have on tap and you'll take a sip even though you never like it that much. Maybe it's a wine night? Bit weird to get a glass of wine in a bar like this and surely James will tease you for it when he gets here, but it's a bit cold out and it sounds warming --
"Excuse me?" You look around to see if someone's just addressed you and find a girl about your age at your side. Her eyes are bright and her face flushed and she's holding a pint. Clearly she's a bit further along in her night than you are.
"You alright?" you ask her. She nods frantically.
"Was that your boyfriend?" she asks, the words tumbling out of her like she has to ask you or she'll combust.
"Uh, yes," you say. Bit weird, but alright.
"He's so handsome," she says. Her tone is the one that girls use in the bathroom at the club when they compliment each other, like she's so happy for you and wants to share in your good fortune.
You smile. "He is," you agree.
"And the way he looks at you!" She sighs like she's reading from a romance novel. What is she on about? He was beside you for mere minutes.
"He's got a bit of a stare."
The girl shakes her head, a few pieces of her bangs falling in her face. "No, I mean yes, but you guys were just standing here and I looked over and it was like he was..." She waves her hand in the air, her beer sloshing dangerously close to the edges of her glass. "He was orbiting around you, or something. The air was crackling, I swear."
You really should ask what she's having so you can get a glass too, whatever will make you feel her enthusiasm.
She puts her hand on your arm. "It's just so nice," she says. "To see love like that."
Her words take you by surprise. No one has ever articulated your relationship like that, so matter of fact. "Thank you," you tell her genuinely.
She beams at you and then seems to catch sight of her friends, giving your arm a squeeze before darting off into the crowd.
"Alright then," you mutter. "Wow." The bartender finally takes your order and you mull over this kind girl's words as you wait. You've always thought that you and Sirius were well suited. Both of you are quite private, guarded in front of people you don't know but endlessly loyal to those you do. He has always made you feel like a priority even when you've fought. Very early on you realized that he was an all-in kind of guy -- he laid his feelings out and promised you that if you felt the same he'd give you everything he could. And he has, even though you don't need much. His hand on your back, his voice in your ear when you wake, his smile across the room. Just being next to him has always been enough. You've just never known how to articulate it, how this kind of love is everything you've wanted for yourself.
You manage not to spill your drinks as you try to find Sirius. He's gotten a table in the corner that will easily fit your friends once they arrive, but for now you slide into the seat next to him.
He beams at you, a toothy grin that makes him look younger, and puts his hand on your knee under the table. "Thank you, darling," he says.
You lean into his side. "Good table." He takes a sip of his beer and nods his agreement. "A girl at the bar said the strangest thing to me," you blurt out. You don't know how you're going to explain this to him but you want to tell him. You always want to tell him everything.
"Oh?" He's got a bit of a foam mustache but he wipes it before you can.
"She said I had a handsome boyfriend."
Sirius scoffs. "You do." You roll your eyes.
"But she also said that --" you use air quotes -- "it was nice to see a love like ours."
His face goes very soft, almost like the way he looks first thing in the morning when you wake to find him watching you. "Very poetic," he murmurs.
"I don't totally know what she means," you admit. "But it was a nice thing to say. I think she might have been a bit drunk."
"Oh, I know what she means," he says. You raise your eyebrows, telling him to go on. Sirius blinks a few times, scratches the back of his neck. You know him well enough to know that he's nervous, which is a bit rare. He leads with confidence, oozes with it, but he's told you many times one of the things that he never gets tired of is how you can crack that exterior.
"It's like when we're in the same room and everything shifts," he says. "Like tonight. I stepped off the train and knew you were near, you know?"
Oh. "I --yeah," you say softly. You do know. It's like you and Sirius orbit each other, like being near him changes the makeup of the air in a room. Your heart beats in time with his and your very atoms settle when he's near. If you were good with words, if you were a little better at expressing yourself, you'd say that you two are made of the same stuff. Your life before him was great, sure, and by no means were you waiting for him for it to start. But now that he's here, next to you, it's like everything has snapped into focus. It just makes sense.
"I can't believe she noticed, though," he says. His tone is more teasing than sincere now, so you let your own musings fade for now. "I mean, I've barely even touched you! I took your coat! We could have been on a first date!"
"You never touch me that much," you remind him. It's not a scold, it's just how it is. You've never needed to touch him that much. Just his gaze feels like his hands are on you, sometimes. You can always tell when he's looking at you from across the room. Remus once said he was convinced you two could communicate telepathically. You find yourself looking at a doorway moments before Sirius walks through it. He digs out a tissue before you've even felt the tickle in your nose. You can sense each other's distress over the breeze like a bloodhound. It's a bit weird, actually. But you don't know how else to be.
"I can fix that." He winks and slings his arm around your shoulders.
"Don't be annoying." He smacks a kiss to your temple but releases you. You stay close to him, pressed together from shoulder knee. Sirius presses his lips to the shell of your ear and you shiver.
"I love our love, too," he says. What a sap.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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