#like i wasn't allowed to be out of shape!!! (which is not how it works)

[selliqxrt]

DON’T TOUCH HIM

Mafia Harry x OC

Characters Count: 10,856

Summary: Dahlia’s the daughter of the mafia boss, and Harry is her father’s protégé. Soon he will take the place of the new boss, and she will has to become his wife. Her father is cruel and has no mercy.

Warnings: B!ood, v!olence.

—

The mafia isn't a place for cowards. Isn’t a place for the faint of heart. This world breaks you, dragging out the darkest and wildest aspects of your inner self. No one escapes the water dry; no one escapes the crushing influence of this world.

The Underworld — that's what I call the organization I was born and raised in. A kingdom of fear and death. And one day, I will become its new king. That's what I strive for. What I've been working towards for the past several years. I've become the most worthy of the younger generation in the clan, and now I continue my fight for power and a seat on the throne.

My father was so happy when our boss announced me as his successor, his protege. Lucas Tenney was a great man. The one who brought this clan to complete dominance. His name shook walls, instilled all-consuming terror in people. A devil in human skin. But even the devil needs an heir. To the great sorrow of the entire clan, Lucas' wife didn't manage to give birth to a son before death took her from our boss. It was a great loss for all of us, but especially for Lucas. It seemed as if rage and anger clouded his mind, turning him into a true beast, and only his daughter kept him in check.

Dahlia Tenney — the mafia princess and the boss's only child. She was beautiful, like a blossoming rose. One look from her could kill a hundred men, leaving them lying on the spot. Dahlia was the most closely guarded jewel, and only the boss's inner circle was allowed near her. And I was lucky enough to be one of them.

I underwent my training under the strict guidance and supervision of Lucas. He personally attended every lesson, controlling the process. They were turning me into a deadly machine without feelings or emotions. Gruelling training in the gym sapped my strength, developing inhuman endurance. By the age of 17, I was already in pretty impressive shape. But even hours spent alone with iron didn't seem as terrible to me. The real hell began later, under the cover of night, when most people were luxuriating in their beds or having sweet dreams. I, on the other hand, spent my nights in the boss's house. It probably sounds good, but the reality was terrible.

Every night I came to the basement. A terrible, horrifying basement, steeped in blood and torment. Who would have thought that this house contained a real torture and punishment chamber. A place more terrible than any nightmare people had ever seen. The clan doesn't need a weak and unworthy boss. The clan doesn't need a coward who falters at the sight of blood. That's why I was here, to be broken, burned, and reborn from the ashes, stripped of feelings and soul. Sometimes the sessions in the basement didn't inflict physical pain on me, breaking my mind instead. I still remember how hard it was to hold a gun pointed at an innocent man. My hands trembled, and my heart ached at the realization of what I had to do. I pulled the trigger without looking at the man, and only his last breath, which reached my ears, testified to my act. His frightened and doomed look was still in my dreams, causing me to wake up in a cold sweat.

But even that didn't scare me as much as the torture and punishments that my body was subjected to almost every night. I knew what it was all for. A way to rid me of weakness, a way to rid me of the sensation of pain. But even that realization didn't make those nights any easier or more bearable.

It wasn't just a duty; it was my obligation. I'm not a simple soldier; I'm the chosen one, the future boss. The future king of the Underworld. But every king needs a queen, doesn't he? My queen should be Dahlia. A girl possessing the appearance of a fairy and the character of a true soldier. I was lucky to be one of those allowed near Lucas's daughter. Our first meeting happened completely by chance.

Before my very first lesson in the basement, where I endured true agony, I was left waiting in the living room for the boss. I was fifteen, and I examined his possessions with curiosity. It was then that I saw her. She was descending the old spiral staircase like a damn goddess. Her body was hidden beneath a ridiculous and silly bunny pyjama set—completely unbefitting the status of a mafia princess. Dahlia was slightly older than me, but she already knew more about this business than any of us. Lucas made sure his daughter wouldn’t be just another spoiled, foolish doll. Dahlia was smart and incredibly cunning, even back then, years ago. A conversation sparked between us, though it was more like an exchange of barbs. But that was what ignited the spark between us.

Dahlia was the one who cared for me after especially brutal sessions in the basement. Lucas’s men left me there, tied to a chair. Bleeding, I sat there utterly powerless, occasionally letting out sharp breaths that pierced the complete silence of the basement. She would find me in that state nearly half an hour later. Each time, I looked no better than before, but she never showed fear or disgust. With her tiny hands, Dahlia carefully untied the ropes from my wrists, rubbing the red skin to restore blood flow. A completely innocent gesture that made my heart flutter every time.

I don’t know how, but this strong little woman always dragged me to her room to clean my wounds and stop the bleeding. Dahlia let me rest on her bed, covered with silk sheets, and those were always the best hours of the night. Her gentle hands played with my sweaty, tangled curls as I drifted off in her room. I don’t know whether it was simple pity or compassion, but back then, I cared little.

Years passed, and I became more and more like the soulless machine Lucas Tenney wanted me to be. Only one feeling settled deeply in my chest: love.

It took years before my relationship with Dahlia turned into something more. Nights after lessons were no longer just about helping the injured. No. Her touches awakened feelings inside me I didn’t even know existed. Her hands wandered over my bare skin, sending electric shocks throughout my body. I saw her chest rise with heavy breaths. Dahlia’s eyelashes fluttered, and her gaze lingered on my lips, making us both crave more.

One such night, I couldn’t stop myself. I kissed the mafia princess and didn’t regret it at all. My bruised lips closed over hers in a slow, languorous kiss. My free hand rested on her cheek, tucking silky strands behind her ear. It was utterly intimate and so sensual. Nothing like the kisses I shared with random girls.

Between us was a deep, intimate connection. Our lips moved in a slow, synchronized dance, and my hands traced a slow path from her cheek to her slender waist. I possessively squeezed her flesh, drawing a soft sigh from her lips right into my mouth. That night, we didn’t go further. No. We spent several hours exploring each other’s lips, and it was absolutely magical.

That memory still awakens so many feelings and emotions within me. I continue to cling to it as the last piece of my humanity. Of course, this bond was hard to hide from her father. Lucas punished me for a long time after catching us in another kiss. But soon his anger gave way to mercy, and Dahlia was publicly announced as my fiancée—the fiancée I would have when I ascended the throne. I will never forget how our boss confessed to me that I was the only one he trusted with his daughter.

Dahlia became my anchor. The thing that keeps me grounded every time, pushing me to work three times harder. I found new motivation, and now I won’t stop until she is mine.

Time marched on, and my training intensified, becoming increasingly brutal and merciless. This only served to agitate Dahlia more and more. She didn't understand that this was the only way for us. I had to be strong; I had to endure for her, for our future. My heart shattered each time I saw the tears tracing paths down her cheeks. I loathed making my girl cry, but she would get through this. She had to.

Today’s punishment, however, became almost unbearable. I could barely breathe. My entire body was aflame with agony, forcing me to writhe in torment. But they didn't stop. No. They seemed to become even harsher, seeking more sophisticated methods of tormenting me, and Lucas was observing. I was weakened. My screams, which had been nearly incessant for hours, could now turned into a pained groan, my teeth clenched tight.

I swear to God, another few minutes, and I would start begging for death. The fists of two hulking men continued to slam into my flesh, knocking the breath from my body. I'd stopped even thinking about liberation. It seemed as though it would never end when I heard a loud gunshot.

Everything froze inside me with fear and despair. But to my surprise, I didn't feel the sting of a bullet, and life didn't flash before my eyes. I was alive?

I opened my eyes, and a loud gasp of astonishment escaped my lips. Dahlia stood on the stairs that led to the exit from the basement. My brave girl was holding a gun pointed at her father. Lord, she was aiming at her own father.

"Enough, Father, don't touch him," tears streamed down her cheeks, but her gaze burned with fury and unwavering resolve.

Lucas looked completely calm, as if his daughter's outburst didn’t concern him at all.

"Put down the gun, kiddo. That toy isn't for you," Lucas Tenney knew his daughter wouldn’t shoot. We all knew that Dahlia wouldn’t shoot.

She was a true daddy's girl. Dahlia adored her father; she wouldn’t kill him for anything. Not even for me. She knew it herself. In an instant, she flipped the gun, pointing the barrel at herself.

Blood froze in my veins, and I experienced an inhuman fear. The fear of losing the only person who had any meaning. Adrenaline gave me strength, and I desperately tried to break free from the ropes that enveloped my entire body.

"Dahlia!" My voice was hoarse, full of despair and horror. But she didn't even glance at me.

Lucas flinched, displaying fear in front of others for the first time. He raised his hands in a calming gesture. We were both afraid of losing this girl. The boss’s voice was quiet, but I heard the fear:

"Sweetheart, lower the gun, and we'll talk."

"Don't touch him," Dahlia repeated, pressing the barrel to her temple.

"Alright. Alright. Guys, untie him," Lucas gave the order without even turning his head toward his men.

The two brutes approached me, untangling the complex knots and removing the ropes. My arms fell limply, and I felt the blood begin to rush back into my limbs. Dahlia threw the gun on the floor, and a couple of seconds later, her small body fell on her knees before me. Her hands clasped my wrists, beginning to rub the skin in their familiar manner.

"Hey, hey, love. You're alright now, it's all going to be okay," her voice was so gentle and quiet, so soothing. I allowed myself to close my eyes, dissolving in her touch.

In that moment, I fully realized the depth of my feelings for this girl.

—

I apologise for the mistakes in the text. The text was written in another language and I really had difficulties with the translation this time. I hope you enjoyed it🙏🏼 And thanks to everyone who read this fic before it was published

—

Taglist: @tillyshouse @hontpwk @sincerely-yours-marsbar @nanaisinmars @kateluvshaz @tpwkmr @cherryberrystompers @merylittlefreak @fratboyrryy @stylessupermqcy @alex-voiddome @avensgreenvans @hazstyle @martha-rwng @tpwkdpr @patriwxlls @bookworm336699 @dykwyachrissy @cherrycherry444 @isastyles @harrystyleshotwife @littlebvnnyhs @onedirection-vvvvv @pops234 @harrieskissesx @chalmtloui @tpwkbanana @pawmpkinnn @littlefreakava @angelinplaid @fallingwillow @ilove-1d

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[inbabylontheywept]

Reach Heaven (Through Violence)

When I was in 2nd grade, my school started a zero-tolerance policy for bullying. I want to emphasize that I started out very excited for this program. I was a small, visibly autistic child on a playground with fourth graders on it. In theory, this program might as well have been called The Rescue Babs Initiative. 

In practice, however, zero-tolerance programs almost always sink into madness. The motivations never line up right - too many incentives for cheating.

The first victim of the program was actually my friend, Sam. I was standing next to him in line when one of the fourth graders gut punched him. There was no reason for the punch, he was just small and in arm's reach. Sam got the wind knocked out of him, but he managed to gasp out the phrase stupid motherfucker right as the playground aide ran over to keep the peace. 

(Sam had an incredible vocabulary for a 2nd grader. Consequence of his dad being a recently divorced mechanic.)

Puncher got a two week suspension. That was fine. But Sam got a one week one for verbal abuse, which was beyond the pale. But that’s just what zero-tolerance is, right? No hitting became a rule everyone had to follow, and it didn't stop when someone hit us. So our options as kids were to somehow make like Jesus and ascend up to heaven… or solve things ourselves. 

We started solving things ourselves. 

I'll be honest, I think that was always the plan. A school can do a lot of things to reduce bullying, but if the goal is zero, there's only one path forward: Shoot the messenger. 

---

My part in the story was a few weeks after that. Long enough to know that the school's new unofficial policy was to suspend kids that reported problems, short enough to have no idea how to defend myself. It turned out the 4th grader that hit Sam was part of a trio, and that trio had their sights on me next. 

I asked some of my classmates what to do, and they said that the best idea was to just ignore the bullies. Refuse to give them a reaction. That was dogshit advice, but it was common enough in the early 2000s and it's not like I can fault 2nd graders for not knowing much about life. 

Anyway. I took the advice and I ignored my bullies. I ignored them when they said nasty things about my mom, and I ignored them when they bounced soccer balls off my head, and the one time I broke was when the biggest of the trio grabbed my arm hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises. We were watching a movie in the gym when he did that, and I leaned over and told him he could hold my hand if he was scared of the dark. Which worked, thank God. The grip hurt bad enough I had to excuse myself for a bit to keep my composure. 

I think a more mentally flexible kid would've changed strategies by then. Clearly, things were escalating. But it's hard for me to change my mind, so I stuck to my bad strategy, right up until the day the big kids caught me after school. I was crossing the baseball field when they got me. It was just one of those places you had to walk through to make it to the bike rack. 

The big guy, again, was the instigator. He pushed me down then stood over me, yelling for me to get back up. But I knew that if I got back up, he'd just push me down again, and for whatever reason, their Bully Code didn't allow for kicking a kid that was already down. So I stuck to the grass, and they tried a bunch of things to goad me into standing back up. Eventually, I started kicking at them while on my back, and one of them took the opportunity to grab my leg. Second bully thought that looked fun, so he grabbed my other leg. Kicking me like that was off limits, but dragging wasn't, so they just started pulling me around that way. 

They were so much taller than me that I was almost vertical during the pull so all my weight was put on my shoulders. And the fields were just made of unkind stuff. There was crushed gravel all over the place, spilled out from the divider between the big kid playground and the little kid playground, so every time they dragged me over a piece it just ripped a new gouge up my back. The ground itself was sunbaked caliche and dead crabgrass. There was a grit to it, like sand stuck to the outside of a clay pot. 

It grated all the skin off my upper back. Everything between the bottom of my neck to the bottom of my shoulder blades. I don't know at what points I went from yelling, to screaming, to just crying, but I did, and I know they seemed almost giddy every time it changed. Eventually they finished off with one loop around the baseball diamond and that hurt the worst. The dust there stuck to the snot and spit all over my face and made it into a foul mud, and the same happened in my shirt. The dust stung like salt, and the gravel in the lines tore open a few more cuts for dirt to pour in. I remember them stopping, and actually crying again I was so relieved. It was done. Thank God, it was finally done. They were done hurting me. 

They left me on my back near homebase. They'd finally got the reaction they were looking for.

It took me a few minutes after that to stagger back to my feet. I was able to wash the snot-mud off my face in the bathroom, but I couldn't bring myself to touch my back. It just felt like it was on fire. Then I made it back to the bike rack. 

That’s where my older sister, Liz, was waiting for me. She was just a grade ahead of me but it always felt bigger than that. There’s some deep weight associated with being the oldest. She could see that I was dirty and tear soaked so she asked what happened. I didn’t know how to put it in words, so I just tried lifting my shirt to show her. It made a sticky, tacky sound coming up - like the plastic coat coming off a slice of American cheese. Tchhhhk. 

I didn’t know how bad they’d got me before I heard that noise.

She looked at my back for maybe two seconds before telling me to put my shirt back down. I never actually looked at it when it was fresh, but I still had straggling scars by the time I got to highschool. Long silver-grey lines, visible mostly for the dirt still stuck in them. She looked a little sick when I turned around, but she kept it cool, which I really appreciated. I always hated crying in public, and I was half a hair from crying all over again. I don't think I'd have been able to keep it together if she'd freaked out too. 

Instead, she just asked me some questions. Who did this, how long they’d been doing it, what I’d been doing, if I’d told anyone. Some 4th graders, a month, trying to ignore them, nobody. 

She mulled those answers over. I could see her trying to chart a course forward - trying to figure out what it would take to solve this problem for good. She's always had this weird, sad, blank face that she'd make when she found a solution she didn't like. She'd make that face, then think some more, then make the face. Then think. 

Eventually, she just made the face. 

Don't tell the parents, she said. I can fix this. But only if you don’t tell them. 

I believed her. She was the most capable person I knew, and her word was gold. So I didn't tell our parents. I biked home, and every drop of sweat that rolled down my back felt like acid on my skin. I remember getting home and beelining straight to the bath, because I needed something to put the fire out. Took that as my moment to cry it out again too. First time I'd cried was from pain, but the second time was from the cruelty. Second time took longer, but the nice thing about a cold bath is that the water never runs out. I could just pop the plug out with my toes and just keep rinsing and draining and rinsing and draining until my mind was as clean and empty and stark as the tub itself. Then I could go fill that emptiness up with Calvin and Hobbes. 

It worked.

Mostly. 

---

I spent the whole next week feeling nervous anytime I was outside and Liz wasn't nearby. Some days she'd beat me to the bike racks, and I'd be relieved as hell to just go home. Other days, I'd be the first one out, and then I'd have to spend a few minutes worrying about what I'd do if the big kids showed up. But they never did. Liz always got there just a few minutes later, and I'd pretend I hadn't been planning escape routes.

Friday, I was sweating by myself when she showed up a few minutes later than normal. She unlocked her bike but she didn't move to leave. She had this big, long cable-type lock, maybe  six feet of braided steel. She folded it over in her hands so it looked like a swatter and swung it a few times in the air. Made it whistle like a falling anvil in a cartoon.

Today's baseball practice, she said. All Our Guys are on the baseball team. 

Our Guys. Odd phrasing. Also, I actually hadn't known that about them, but I nodded along anyway. She wasn't really looking at me as she talked - she was inspecting the lock.

My plan, she continued, is to wait here until baseball's done. Me and you. When it gets time I'll send you outside the bike cage.

The cage was a chain link fence, maybe six feet tall, built all around the rack. They’d lock it after school as an extra precaution against bike thieves. 

Your job, she continued, will be to hold the gate closed after they're all in. Keep em’ stuck. Think you can do that? 

She was being very frank, which helped me think clearly. I didn't think I could actually hold the gate closed if all of them ran into it at once, but I knew where a big half broken cinder block was, and I knew if I could wedge it in there, it would hold. So I told her that. 

Great, she said. Do that. 

Then I went to go get the block. She gave the cable a few more experimental swings, right as I made it around the corner. 

I'd been thinking in straight lines before that. Just meeting goals. It wasn't until that moment that I really allowed myself to know what was happening. That I allowed myself to have a choice. 

I chose to jog a little faster. I wanted revenge. 

---

I came back with the block a few minutes later, then we just talked like nothing was happening. The sun was shining, and we’d both gotten into bionicles, and it was easy to talk and be people. Normal, happy people. 

But that feeling went away when I heard the coach tweet a long whistle. Me and Liz both knew that was the signal that practice was done. I walked out and got my bric while she folded the cable in half in her hand again. Then we both waited. 

Eventually I saw the kids that drug me around the baseball diamond emerge from behind the portables. I watched them make a straight line back to the bike rack. They were laughing together, having a good time. Being normal. Like me and my sister. I realized I could let things be normal too. I saw my chance to let things go softball pitched to me, nice and easy, and I didn't even bother to swing. I didn't want normal anymore. I wanted this. I knew why my sister had that lock, and I'd thought about it, and I liked it.  

God help me, I think I needed it. 

The kids went inside the bike cage. I gave them ten paces head start, then put the cinder block under the gate. That was the signal Liz had been waiting for. 

She blitzed those boys. There were three of them, and the smallest still had two inches on her, so they probably would have kicked her ass if they ever had a moment to think. But she never gave them that moment. She picked the biggest kid, and decided he needed the first blow. I remember how much muscle she put into that swing - the cable was so heavy, and she was so small, that it kind of swung her back as she made that first half spin. Like a dog getting wagged by its own tail. 

It was a perfect connection. Flawless. She swung through her target, not at it, and the resulting slap that the cable made bouncing off the biggest kid's stomach was loud enough to echo through the cage. It brought a tear to my eye. It brought a tear to his eye too. 

The trio split after that, bouncing around the cage like fresh broke billiards. I can't describe how Liz did it, exactly, but she managed to chase the boys back together so she could hit them all more efficiently. She had a real knack for getting them right between the shoulders, so I never got to see the real perfection of her work, but she wasn't above swinging for the arms or legs if that was all she had. Those marks I could see, and they were brutal. The welts were wider and thicker than my thumb, like giant purple worms were trying to burrow out of their skin. Some even bled. I cheered on every hit. 

Liz, for her part, just had a sort of grim, single minded determination to her. She was so angry she was shaking, and so scared that tears just kept running down her face, and she was grinning all the way back to her molars, but the grin didn't get any bigger after a solid hit than a glancing one. When the kids started blubbering, she didn't change her process. I'd spent my time crying, she'd spent her time crying, of course they were getting theirs in too: That's what violence does. It brings tears. Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind. 

Eventually, one of the kids split off from the main herd and scrambled up the fence, gecko-style. Liz let him go. It was either that, or take her attention off the other two. Easy choice. 

Now, there were two kids left, the big one, and one of his smaller friends. Smaller friend did the same trick. I was worried he was gonna turn back, fight me and open the gate for his buddy, but he just fled for the hills. I remember thinking, damn, I hope they never forgive each other for this. I hope this ruins their whole friendship. I hope this festers into something awful. 

The one kid that was left really was trapped though. He wasn't built for climbing and he had no one to work as a distraction for him. Every time he started trying to make it up the fence, my sister would just twist up like a spring, then swing the cable with both hands right into his spine. The slap it made every time she did that was loud enough to hurt my ears. He never made it more than two hits like that before hopping off the fence and just trying to run around some more. He could get Liz tangled up in the bikes for a bit if he really tried, but it never bought him enough time to actually get out. She'd always find her way out of the thicket, swing the cable, and send him running again. 

Eventually, he just couldn't run anymore. He sat down, and my sister hit him a few times, telling him to stand up. He refused. He knew he was gonna get hit either way, so he might as well get hit sitting down. He put his arms up after a bit and let those take a beating too. Eventually he just started begging her to stop. So she did. 

He cried he was so relieved. I remembered how that felt: It’s done. Thank God, it’s finally done. They’re done hurting me. 

Liz told me to come in and show him my back. I took my shirt off, and I showed him a scab as large as a dinner plate. Cracked up like dry river mud. 

He looked sick. Started babbling about how he didn't know. Said he thought I was crying because I was just a kid - that he didn't know he was actually hurting me. That he'd just wanted to get a rise out of me and didn't know it would take so much. 

He didn't know he'd gone too far until it was too late. 

And suddenly, it was like looking in a mirror. 

Two snotty, welted boys, crying alone in the dirt. Backs burning like fire. Ashamed. Trapped. Realizing that they'd just done something awful, and worse, that they’d dragged the people that meant the most to them along for the ride. 

I hated him more at that moment than when he drug me over gravel. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill anything but their own brokenness reflected. Looking at him was unbearable. Like staring straight into the sun. 

I could've hit him again if I hadn't just gorged myself on violence. But I had. I was fat with it, sick and aching - anything more and I would have puked. So I just told him to get his bike and go. Please. Just go. 

He did. He staggered to his feet, and he grabbed his bike before running away like all the demons in hell were following behind. All bar two. There was a swingset nearby, and once he was fully out of sight, Liz and I walked over to it. We picked two seats next to each other and sat for a while, talking until our hands stopped shaking. Can’t remember about what. We didn’t really know how to process what had just happened. Still don’t, to be honest. 

Then we went home.

---

Thanks to @elisabethdeep-blog, @foldingfittedsheets, @amateurmasksmith, @caramel-catss @arataya, and @rozenkingdom for being my alpha readers.

And thanks @lizardho, for being my first friend, my best friend, and my childhood bodyguard. I know it took a toll on you. I'm truly sorry.

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[snoopyhq]

Jealous viktor + reader 🙏

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ so with my best, my very best, i set you free

(i love laufey 🗣️ her cover of "i wish you love" with the icelandic orchestra? 2:49 of heaven)

type: viktor x reader

summary: headcanons and a drabble of jealous viktor. headcanons are pre-relationship, the drabble is the established relationship ✪ ꨄ︎

word count: 2415

a/n: OMG FIRST ASK I'M SO HONORED I'M SO EXCITED YIPPEE !!! will be working on the others whenever i have the time, but TRUST i am plotting and scheming <3 any other askers, feel free to drop by! i hope i did your request justice, dear anon.

It was unfair to you, and to him, in his most miserable moments of pure self-pity

Viktor envied those who were healthy. He wished he wasn't born with the circumstances he was dealt. He would trade anything to spend one day with a respiratory system that didn't choke him from the inside out every time he took a breath

He was jealous of you, initially, when you first met

You seemed to have it so easy

Easy laughter, easy conversation, easy friends. You had an established life, you were loved, and you held yourself together with such ease that he sometimes wonders how much you're really holding back

He feels bad for assuming you were dealing with awful problems. But it was very likely. I mean, who was truly that... happy? Well off? At ease with themself and their role in the world? He was probably projecting

And then you somehow, by all the miracles a human could possibly be granted, managed to worm your way into his life and secure yourself there too

Viktor vehemently rejected you at first. He was much like a stray cat. You just gotta continuously give them love on their own terms, and often times, it was slow, and that concept applied to Viktor too

It started with small things. Brief greetings where you called him by name

"Good morning, Viktor."

"Nice to see you here today, Viktor."

"Viktor, you have a good night ok? Get home safe."

Including him in conversations. Commentary about how you two just happened to be in the same place at the same time. The library, a cafe, randomly in the middle of a bustling street

You always had that breezy way of acknowledging things. What a nice coincidence. It was all genuine

You were pleased to be surprised by his presence

Wordlessly holding the door for him, even if you really didn't have to wait. But it was never a big deal, so

He pushed it away. Brushed it off, and tried to forget about it, but those little moments kept circling through his mind like an irritating tape he couldn't dislodge from the disc player, and turning the TV off wasn't doing shit when those scenes were basically burned onto the screen

Like the natural progression of the lunar cycle, Viktor found himself unconsciously expecting you in his life

He can't remember a time when you weren't

Your greetings, your little gestures of kindness, that skill of small talk that meant so, so much to him were cherished like an altar of worship

While he was in no way, shape, or form completely opening himself up to befriending any more people, he began to feel much more natural with you and others you gave your time to

Which brought him to his current bit of emotional turbulence

That prickling in his chest whenever he saw you with other people, giving them your precious words and quality time? Yeah, he shouldn't be feeling this

You were allowed to have other friends! You had people in your life before him, and it doesn't mean you consider him any less just because you spent a moment or two with someone else!

He would tighten his grip on his cane, those mantras feverishly chanting in his mind as he walked in circles, attempting to reign his emotions into a more rational state

He had no right to feel jealous like this, but he couldn't help it

Jayce was his only real companion before, and now that he was a council member, he had less time for Viktor. He had the city to nurture and shape, a big responsibility. The loneliness of the lab was barely a noticeable shift from before

Now, you arrived as if by careless chance, giving him another glimpse, another hit of company, and it was maddeningly cruel to have those doses be in such short time frames

He was given what he needed and wanted, but never fully

Accepting that reality was going to be harder than accepting you truly wishing to be around him, in all his sardonic glory, his blunt nature that had most other people walking away. Just not you

To grapple with this selfish desire was humiliating

He was fully aware of how innately human it all was. If only it were easier. Someday.

For now, he would wait and bask in all the attention and friendship you offered him so willingly

You stood in front of your mirror, going over your carefully put together look one last time. You wanted to look good, and having the outfit fall into place like how you planned it in your head always gave you an extra boost of happiness before you left the house. Straightening the collar of your top one last time, you were finally satisfied.

Viktor was waiting for you in the living room. He stood up when you finally appeared, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek and a murmured "You look enchanting, as always."

You laughed and hugged him.

"And you're dashing, as per usual."

With your arm linked through his, the two of you went on your way. He had planned the date tonight. The winding route led to the sparkling, five-tiered fountain that marked the center of the shopping fair. The flowing water sparkled and danced beneath the fairy lights strung through the evergreens surrounding the space, and orchestral music floated up from where the quintet performed.

You two often went here after a long, stressful week, dining at one of the outdoor tables and idly chatting before hitting a couple stores. Most of the time, it would be the bookshop, the local woodcarver, and then the bakery. You had made it a tradition to buy one another a sweet treat, and it was always a delight to see if your guesses of enjoyment would be met or not.

There was certainly not a lack of other people around you, many of whom were also hand in hand. The center was a popular spot for local students and couples to unwind and spend time together.

When you both had your fill of sights and perusing your respective comforts, you made your way back to the fountain. The musicians had struck up a lively waltz, and many were dancing along now. Both of you shared a look, and moved to join in, albeit towards the edge of the crowds.

Dancing with Viktor was one of your favorite activities. He moved with such assuredness and care for your space, making him all the more captivating in his graces. The respectful placement of his hand on your waist, never going too far and risking your discomfort in public, and never straying away lest he appeared bored, Viktor made sure you were his priority.

After the song concluded, you spun Viktor around slowly to the rhythm of the music drawing to a close, dipping him into a kiss during the final note.

His cheeks were slightly flushed, both from the exertion and from your affection.

"I'm going to grab a drink. We can head home after, if you'd like," you told him, head leaning on his shoulder as he walked with you back up the steps.

"That's perfectly fine. I can hold your bag while you do that."

Oh, Viktor. Ever the gentleman.

You went inside the establishment, and ordered yourself a shirley temple with sweet cream, fully planning to share with him. You knew he had a penchant for the more saccharine in terms of taste. While you waited to order, another patron joined you after placing their order.

"Busy place tonight, isn't it?" they commented.

You turned your attention to them, surprised a stranger was making conversation with you, but you didn't mind. All harmless small talk, after all. You would be leaving soon anyways when your order was finished, so why not pass the time with pleasantries?

"It's one of the most popular cafes around here," you replied. "Friday nights always means live music, so people love to flock here. I should know. I frequent here often." you finished with a smile, and received one in return.

They continued engaging you in conversation, and you soon realized it was taking a bit for your drink. A shirley temple wasn't complicated, and you were worried something was wrong. Maybe they were short-staffed tonight? Did an accident occur in the back?

"Are you worried about your drink?"

"No, not really. More so the workers here," you were honest. Some of them were fellow students you see at the academy, and others knew you as a regular, and you had grown quite fond of the staff as they were of you.

"That's a surprise. You're very sweet."

Their order quickly arrived, and they bid you farewell before departing into the night. You walked up to the counter, asking if everyone was ok. The barista reassured you, saying it was only going to take a little while, and that everything is alright now. Relieved, you went back to your perch.

Outside, Viktor was waiting anxiously. This was taking a lot longer than he had anticipated.

When someone emerged from the cafe, he was tempted to get up and ask them if they'd seen you in there.

Yes, my partner. About this tall, very beautiful eyes, a smile you can't miss. Have you seen...?

God. He was contemplating approaching a stranger just to inquire about you. Luckily (or was it?) for him, they must've sensed him sneaking glances at the cafe and at them, because they approached him cheerily.

"You look a little lost. Need some help?" they asked.

"Oh, it's alright. I'm just waiting for someone."

At that, they perked up.

"It wouldn't happen to be someone wearing the same colored blouse as your vest would it?"

Yes. It was. He confirmed it.

"That's perfect actually! I was just talking to them, and since you know them, do you think they would be interested in exchanging contact information with me? They were quite lovely company, and I wouldn't mind getting to know them better."

Viktor could feel his heart drop and the temperature in his soul rise several degrees. What was going on? Where were you? What had happened in those minutes that you were gone?

"I will... ask them," he attempted to keep his tone even. "Mind giving me your contact information to pass along?"

The stranger happily handed Viktor a piece of paper, their messy scrawl sending a sting of irritation through him. That penmanship was not worthy of you, and would certainly not compare to the intricate scripting of his own handwritten notes and letters to you.

When you finally rejoined him, you could tell immediately something was off. You questioned him about it, and he huffed, telling you not to worry about it as you walked home. He didn't even pay any mind to the bag that hung on your arm, too caught up in his insecurities and worries.

That stranger was so much like you. So approachable. Good conversationalist. He couldn't help but imagine a scenario of you two getting along a little too well, and that made something deep inside him hurt. Clearly, he wasn't as good as keeping his thoughts off his face as he believed, or you had simply gotten better at understanding him, because you promptly asked him again.

"Come on, Viktor. Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

"If you knew the full extent of what I'm thinking of, you wouldn't be so quick to call my mind beautiful," he grumbled tersely.

"You can't judge my reaction for me. Spill."

He bit the inside of his cheek. Finally, he confessed. It felt like ripping out stitches from his tongue.

"... someone at the coffee shop. They asked me if I knew you, and then asked if you would be interested in their contact information."

At that, you raised an incredulous eyebrow. Ah. You were blissfully oblivious of the jarring events.

"Viktor, I promise nothing is wrong. We were both waiting for our drinks, and they happened to be making small talk with me. That's all. I love you with my whole heart, and no one else can ever--will not ever--compare."

His heart fluttered. He knew that was the realistic truth, but it was nice to hear reassurance from you anyways.

"You mean it?" he asked.

"I mean it," you said sincerely.

Setting your bags and drink on the nearby bench, you swept him into your arms and twirled him around beneath the streetlight's warm glow.

"I love you," you declared, hands holding his face tightly. Your thumb brushed against the beauty mark above his lip. "And if you ever need reminders of that, you tell me immediately. I will literally drop everything and make sure your doubt disappears completely for as long as I can hold it back."

He gazed into your eyes, his own now slightly misted. Their glossiness reflected warmth and adoration as he took in your face. Seeing the conviction there did something to him. He didn't know what, but he found himself giving in to the urge to just close the distance and kiss you right then and there, open street be damned.

It began to snow. He only realized when he parted from you, the taste of your chapstick still lingering. He looked up, watching the delicate flakes be illuminated by the warm, golden glow. If there was a visualization for the love he felt, it would be that he decided. It all just built and built from all the little things, and filled him with such life it almost hurt.

"We should go home," he whispered, looking back at you.

"Oh yeah, we should. I was going to tell you!" you gasped, running back for your drink and the bag. "They gave me extra cakes and rolls. The last ones of the specialty desserts before their next seasonal delights, so we can share them." you beamed.

"Really? That's quite generous of them."

He wasn't surprised. You were just so damn lovable. He would give you all the baked goods you desired and more, if only for another smile from you directed at him. His fingers intertwined with yours, fondness consuming him as you chatted about the different flavors of the desserts, which ones you were most excited about, and which ones you think he'd like.

He had to agree with your assessments. A dark chocolate and orange mousse did sound quite appealing for him. He already knew he'd let you have the last bite, regardless.

"Oh, and Viktor?"

"Hmm?"

"You can throw away the contact. I don't need it."

I already have you.

[sukeruton-san]

A Coffee Heart pt 2

First Next

There's a coffee shop in Gotham that allowed him way more caffeine than Amity allowed. . .

He likes it here he can have 21 shots of expresso and all he got was an eye roll with some grumbling about a guy named Tim and twins, it's great!!

_______________________________________________

___________A table in the far corner______________

Do I have a twin. . .

No seriously does he have an unknown twin cause standing at the register is a guy that looks so much like him, but not exact enough to be a clone.

We both have pitch black hair the same thick and soft kind but his is infinitely more fluffy and wild like his Red Robin look, bright blue eyes with analytical intelligents and slightly unhinged but his are more icey in color and somehow more dead inside,both our body types are small soft and lean with muscle, small waist, and rounded in the hips, shoulders in mid range, but he has more curves with his shape he's also worriedly more skinny to an unhealthy degree even in my standards, face shapes similar but his are little more angle too it, hell even our voices are similar his being softer and a little deeper than mine

What made me really catch my attention was the fact that he's coffee intake is just as death inducing as mine maybe even more deadly. Hes eye bags are worse then mine from what I can see from here which is across the fucking room.

So I have reasonably concluded that he is my twin. I mean there was a popular rumor that Janite was pregnant with twins and gave one up to adoption as soon they came out with how big she got. Maybe it was true when I am look at someone who has to be related to me.

Though this begs the question where he has been the entire time, He may be visiting with how he has an Midwestern accent but he also holds himself like an Gotham native.

hnmmmmmm. . .

What's he doing?. . .

He's comING OVER HERE ABORT ABORT ABO-

_______________________________________________

"Um you mind if I sit here for a little all the tables are full"

Why he look familiar? Have I seen him before? . . .

Wait that's Timothy Drake-Wayne Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises, I only know him because of the research binge for the Gothampedia and Tucker's fanboying.

He probably wants some privacy. . .

Probably to relax a little bit and be normal if he's just drinking some coffee in the back corner, alone. He looks nervous as hell too probably don't want any unwanted attention brought to himself, I sure as hell know the feeling

" No it's fine you can sit here "

Is it just me or does he look a little eager

" Cool I'm Danny by the way " sitting and taking a sip of his coffee he notices that Tim seems to be in some sort of dilemma with himself finally he asked

" So you happen to be around and about here often?" He drinks his own coffee

" No, just found this little shop" he cringed a little "I was draged here because my parents wanted to work on something here"

Tim Slightly invested slightly worried " What are they working on?"

" They uhh want to 'help make Gotham more prepared for dangers that may arise in the haunting world' their words not mine"tilting his head slightly to the left "to be fair I think the bats have all that covered, no need to interfere and cause more problems than what it's worth" grumbling under his breath " Don't want them to get on the bats radar cuz they are doing reckless shit and I have to clean it up"

_______________________________________________

Tim is slightly panicking now who are his twins adopted parents and why are they wanting to 'prepared for dangers that may arise in the haunting world'?

What does the haunting world mean?

What does he mean by causing more problems?

Are his parents escaped midwestern rouges or something?

Does he need to do a welfare check on him as Red Robin?

Also he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear that last part but that's just making him more worried.

How reckless can they get?

How many times has he had to clean up their messes?

What does he do. . .

(Thank you for helping me with the idea for the next chapter @ghostlysuitnight )

[anantaru]

DAY 9 — THREESOME

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — neuvillette & wriothesley (together)

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, threesome, tit sucking, lots of teasing, i think their dynamic works so well for this, they're a little jealous and want you to themselves, some bickering from wriothesley's side but neuvillette really doesn't give a damn

taking on a lustful shape over your spread out body, wriothesley watches you eagerly when you wince out the first time neuvillette outlines your walls with his large cock, a breathless and flirtatious snicker resounding like deep, impactful strikes from the duke's throat— he cannot fathom that this was happening right now, and neither could you, but here you were being pleasured by two strong, threatening men touching your skin and awakening an emotion like fiery steel on your flesh and spirit.

"you do realize, dear iudex." wriothesley suddenly speaks out, a masculine voice entering your system as he stops in midst his slurred sentencing, secretly wanting to be the one who's rushing his shaft into you instead because— you can feel it then, immediately notice that the man fully needed you on his own, carnally, couldn't help himself but desire you, lasciviously.

"—that there should always be enough preparation before doing that." he doesn't even look at the man while overflowing with cocky attitude, instead leaning his head to your chest while you desperately gripped and tightened your legs around neuvillette's waist to somehow manage to take his blows the right way, but you're almost holding him hostage this way, fuck and it only serves to make him dizzy.

following your doings, a ravaging whine ripples through your body as the piercing thrusts on your dripping core never stop as neuvillette rides out everything with his swelling erection, barely being able to restrain himself until he was allowed to stick up your pussy with copious amounts of white ropes of creamy cum splattering all over your walls— and of course, his thrusts are slow, precise, the dragging of a thick shaft touching your silken insides for what felt like a sweet, blissful eternity.

neuvillette hums back at the duke, the noise forming an absent response on its own before he decides to follow up the silence departing from his throat, "you do not need to lecture me about this." he drawls back before immediately turning his attention back to you, controlling the buck of his hips but adding enough strength that your ass jiggles from the contact, "but i do appreciate it." and still, considerably he pulls out his cock, yet despite leaving the tip in, the fat head separating your slit effortlessly that it felt like he never really pulled all those inches out of you in the first place.

"just making sure, y'know." wriothesley notices a little film of annoyance on neuvillette's facial expression and mentally applauds himself, a slow, cocky grin touching up his lips— whilst sloppy kisses were now located on your chest as he mouths wet spots on your exposed breasts.

you cannot help yourself and have to shoot your eyes down at him to see for yourself, simply feeling him suckle on your mounds wasn't enough anymore— and it's comfortable, soul crushing when his dark hair tickles your wet cheeks as he continues with his lovely intrigues, serving you dutifully to make you tremble underneath his large body menacing on top, placing soused, warm kisses on your breasts before targeting your nipples next, using your tit as he pleases with his tongue rolling out expertly, dragging the flat of his wet muscle around your sensitivity before noticing a shudder on your chest.

his pink muscle was never faltering, not once, because he likes that you're unraveling way too fast, which, granted, wasn't a surprise to the duke because bare in mind, he knows what you need— specifically how you wanted your tits to be played with before he was grabbing the flesh of your mounds and putting one in his sweltering mouth, every lick and suck biting your core and rising the temperature on your sex.

at the present time, the persistent pleasure both of them fucked into you reaches your entire frame— for once, on your chest chasing the friction of wriothesley's rough tongue licking over the warmth, weighty tears magnifying around your eyes as your blurred psyche loses all rational thinking skills while your pussy was suddenly being spread apart again.

in the blink of an eye, neuvillette lands a harsh smack on your aching sex, following the sticky trail of his shaft being imbedded by your translucent arousal and throbbing between the slickness of your walls constricting around him all too well, and your moans— like a honeyed melody out of a perfect symphony, pillowing a scarlet red on his bristling cheeks.

the iudex doesn't need anyone to tell him how it's done— because behind wriothesley's back, there have been plenty encounters before where it had been just the two of you, encircled around each other, deep sighs entering the room as he rounds his heavy arms on your body, murmuring sweet nothing into your ears, his voice lowered and allied with gravel alike, rasping at a clear spot on your brain that was in control of your lascivious drive when you welcome his smoldering touch so helplessly it's almost embarrassing in hindsight.

while now, he sadly cannot have it the way he'd ultimately prefer it to be but that doesn't mean he wasn't enjoying the mess evolving in front of his ocean eyes picking up each of your shivers, storing them into the back of his brain so he could visualize it whenever he might require it.

what neuvillette wouldn't admit to anybody was that he does like seeing you being played with while it's him who has you entered, who has his cock locked deep inside your sweet, dripping cunt. besides, wriothesley does a good job, he has to admit, how you're whining and begging to feel release, or bliss— clenching your arms around the duke's head while he was lapping his tongue around your breast feverently, one hand sneakily finding the other to touch the hot skin while drool fills his mouth at your lewd noises, selfishly sucking more.

it's not all too bad, right? because neuvillette likes what he sees, and at least he can watch at your adorable face changing expressions and listen to your velvety moans rush across the humid embrace of the room, bumbling off the walls and vibrating around his large cock rocking forward, letting his girth roll itself against your wet warmth that he fucks his way into your little entrance with enough motivation that will keep him satiated for days— and at last, he needs to relish in it again, meaning the sounds, those final tunes of you, or the ones of raw skin on skin rippling around you, ultimately making him go faster and faster, better and finer the louder they would get.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[twstwizard]

You may not have magic, but you do have these guns💪

You're a bodybuilder/deadlifter

Type: Headcanons, SFW, Platonic or Romantic (Vargas is platonic here)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto; Epel Felmier; Idia Shroud; Ashton Vargas

AN: Yes, let me be delusional and pretend that I'm buffer then I really am.

Epel Felmier

-This wasn't fair! Well, technically it was since you couldn't do magic but still, it should've been him! Epel is jealous, there's no other way of putting this.

-While envious of your physic, he won't go out of his way to rub it in your face that at least he can do magic. In fact he'll ask about the training routines you do and will actively seek you out as a gym buddy. Felmier won't rest until he surpasses you!

- Sooner rather then later the two of you might also develop a "student-trainer" relationship in addition to the one you already have. While the young man must listen to Vil, he wants to learn from you. All the ways you can help muscles grow, not to mention exercises, some of which he never even heard of before!

- All gyms and muscle masses aside, your presence genuinely helps Epel to feel better not only about himself, but also reminds him that his dorm is still not the end. If you built yourself without magic and keep building yourself even now, when you basically have nothing, so can Epel.

Idia Shroud

-ECK!- NOT ANOTHER TANK!

-Idia is intimidated in a best way possible, the ShutIn must tip his metaphorical fedora to the amount of time it must've taken you to build up such mass.

- During PE classes he envies you the most, while simultaneously trying to use you as a meat shield against Vargas. The young man will actually partner up with you in the class just so you could pretend to do exercises together. You must understand, he is but a Shut In, he can't do those sit ups...

- If you offer to help him get in shape the Otaku will heavily decline, even being insulted by the notion. But Dance Dance Revolution is a whole different thing- Tricking Idia into doing cardio is easier then you might think, or rather he partially allows you to. After all not only do you spend time together and do things the two of you enjoy doing simultaneously, but he also gets to win once in a while.

Azul Ashengrotto

- At first he's indifferent. It's not like some other students in NRC don't have big muscle masses. He respects the dedication and the work you put into it nonetheless.

-PE Classes are a struggle though, much like for Idia. It is comforting however, that you also are incapable of flying on the broom, even if for a different reason. Azul will try and copy the stretches and warm-ups you do, but won't actually do the exercises. He's not weak but he's not you either.

- The merman will in fact help you with meals if needed. Balanced diet is something that Azul prides himself upon, it is only natural he helps you as well. All meals will be made by Azul personally.

-Will take notes on how much you lift and how much you consume, so that in the future he'll be exercising along side you to eat more fried foods. Your more carefree consumption of foodie goods helps him to indulge once in a while without feeling shame.

Ashton Vargas

- Congratulations, you're now adopted by a competent parent and not Crowley!

[aangelinakii]

EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE.

— every single day, every word you say.

summary : clark finds himself admiring you in moments you admire him.

note : sorry this is a little short but i've taken a long hiatus from proper writing for like over a month and i'm just trying to get back into it, so hopefully you guys can still enjoy :))

requested !

pristine white sleeves rolled up past his elbows, clark finally twisted off the tap, the steaming water streaming from the faucet hissing to a stop, and the bubbles began to spill down the drain, shining plates drying on the rack by the sink.

the skin beneath his curly black fringe was hot, and as soon as he peeled off the yellow rubber gloves, he was running his exposed forearm over his brow.

last night you did the dishes, so, naturally, tonight it was clark's turn.

once he had thrown the gloves carelessly on the edge of the sink, he was trudging into the living room, where you sat on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television.

you tore yourself away from the screen to look up at him as he rounded the sofa, leaning up with pursed lips. before your lids fluttered closed, you were able to catch a glimpse of clark's lips curling into a smile. "thank you for doing the dishes, my love."

with a groan, once he'd pulled away, clark lowered himself down onto the cushions beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch, grazing the back of your head.

"if it's what it takes for you to be happy..." clark gave a sigh, though you could tell by his small smile that it wasn't genuine.

he glanced at you from the corner of his oversized specs, and the dimple at the edge of his mouth deepened, the hand perched on the back of the sofa coming down to play with your hair. "what's on the film roll for tonight?"

trying to ignore the shiver brushing down your spine as one of clark's fingers softly raked over your scalp — and how gorgeous he looked with his messy hair and crooked glasses — you turned back to the tv, shrugging your shoulders. "there's nothing really good on tonight, but i was thinking maybe we could rent or buy something?" hopeful smile coming onto your face, you sent an eager glance clark's way. "you know i've really been wanting to watch that sydney sweeny and glenn powell film!"

"oh, anything but you?"

at that, your smile only grew, the apples of your cheeks aching with the pressure against them, and you turned back to him again.

pressing the buttons that led you to amazon prime, you gave a half-sheepish, half-excited shrug. "you remembered."

clark's chuckle reverberated through his skin, warming against the back of your neck, where his forearm lay achingly close. "it's only what you've been talking about since two pay-cheques ago."

on the tv, a grey line rolled in a circle, loadîg up the application, and you allowed the remote to fall slack at your side, forgotten about in the cushions as you repositioned yourself, stretching your legs out over clark's lap, taking up even more space on the couch. when you caught his eye, however, you found the shadow of a dimple etched into his skin, when prime finally loaded, and the light from the tv illuminated him.

he never minded you taking up space; you deserved every bit of space in this apartment as he did. he just thought you deserved it a little bit more.

one hand fell on the exposed skin of your ankle, finger drawing absent shapes along your flesh as you worked to get the screen onto the new romcom you'd been eyeing.

"should we buy it or rent it?" your voice came, a little uncertain now you were so close to getting what you wanted (which was to watch sydney sweeney and glenn powell fall in love in australia).

after a beat, "let's buy it." you glanced sideways at clark, who met your look with kind eyes. "that way, if you like it, you can watch it whenever. if you don't like it, we never have to touch it again."

something seemed to burst inside you — fireworks, a hot air balloon, a bomb — and you leaned forward in an instant, leaving the remote on the sofa beside you. your hands cupped the sides of clark's face, soft flesh against your soft grip, despite the eagerness of it, and his eyebrows shot so high they disappeared behind his curls.

"you are so freaking sweet, do you know that?" you gasped, like you couldn't find the air within your lungs to express it, cheeks aching once again.

a boyish laugh brushed past clark's lips, and his hand inched higher to your calf, taking it carefully in the palm that had picked up cars, buildings, stopped bullet trains on their track — and yet he ensured utmost fragility when it came to you.

his baby blue eyes glanced between yours, the arm that had been perched along the back of the couch coming to wrap carefully around your shoulders.

one of your hands moved from his jaw, up to brush into his stark black hair, pads of fingertips soaring through curls like a snake navigating the lush plants of the amazon — which, back on the glowing tv screen, was waiting for you to make a purchase.

forgetting all about sydney and her love story with glenn, your other hand moved from jaw to earlobe, taking the soft flesh into fingers. your fingers swooped from earlobe to nape of neck, and clark's change of breathing pace didn't go unnoticed.

"what's up?" clark managed to utter, lips trembling, despite the fact he saw you every day, every week, every month of every year, and had been for the past three of them.

you gave your own deep breath, in and out through the nose, and your hands found purchase against the sides of clark's face again, keeping his head steady as he stared at you, skin a glistening grey in the light of the television. "just you. you're everything."

clark's head twitched under your hands, and he seemed to remember he was in your grip, so his eyes nervously met yours. the heat of his ears reached the tips of your pinkie fingers.

"i don't think you should be the one who gets to say that."

[hisokas-little-sister]

A Little Collection of Shifting Tips

All of these tips were collected from tumblr and tiktok, bith in and out of the shifting community. The manifestation and spiritual communities have very good tips as well, and I suggest you look there for help.

(This will also be posted on my tiktok account by the same name, so look out for that!) 1. Use meditative detachment to shift. - meditative detachment is the state in which your body is asleep, and your mind is awake, like the void state or any state reached through meditation.

2. Use the law of detachment to manifest your DR. - try saying things like "I don't need my DR, my DR needs me." It helps change the dependency around to help attract your desires to you.

3. "Shifting wasn't something I did, it was something I noticed." - a post on tiktok by omarishawden. - you don't need to force shifting to happen, you just need to recognize that it did. We shift all the time without noticing, so shifting on command is just noticing you're capable of shifting and that you already have.

4. You can love and still let go. - you're allowed to love your DR and desire it more than anything. Just release the pressure and expectations you have for your DR and for yourself during shifting. Live with the desire you feel and let it move you forward.

5. Be less conscious of the process of shifting. - like "a watched pot never boils." That quote from Doctor Strange about not beating a river into submission but surrendering to its current, just let the shift happen. Trust that it'll happen and trust that you don't need to constantly monitor it for it to happen. You don't have to be in control. Just let it happen.

6. The universe is a mirror. - you are the universe essentially, and you create what you believe you'll see. What you want to see, what you believe you'll see, and what you assume to be true about the world, it's all created by you. The universe reveals everything to you, because it is you.

7. Ask "what if" questions. - after a shifting attempt in which you wake up in your CR again, try asking yourself "what if I shifted?" "What if I was already there?" Your brain has to stop and think about it, because there's no solid answer it can give.

8. The 3D doesn't create your reality, it reflects it. - what you believe to be true shapes your reality. The 3D isn't creating anything, nor is it being created. It's working on a reflection of your own beliefs. Your beliefs and assumptions were shaped by people around you, and they've grown and changed just as you have. the 3D is just a reflection of that.

9. Manifest by focusing on the feeling that having your desire would bring. - see yourself as having shifted already. Instead of focusing on just the first time, imagine what it would feel like to shift for the thousandth time. Embody that feeling and let it fuel your manifestations. Embody how normal it would feel, because it's just that- normal.

10. Keep track of your shifting journey to look back on what does and doesn't work for you. - I keep a journal next to my bed, and every time I want to try and shift, I write down the method I'm intending to use. After the attempt, I write down what happened and what I could've done better. After a time, you can look back and see a pattern. Hopefully this was helpful, at least a little bit. Remember that your journey is your own and it's okay if something that works for a bunch of people doesn't work for you. This is a personal process and that's normal. Best of luck, and Happy Shifting <3

[dizzyditzblitz]

a little comf writing with Shadow Milk (Sage of Truth) x Wife!Reader for myself h

tw: mentions of bed rotting, heavy depression, and overall lack of care for one's self. light mention of nudity/undressing, yet within a sfw manner.

did NOT proofread

Something had been missing for a couple of days, yet it was hard for Shadow Milk to really put his finger on it. He was so busy with his students, weighted with work,.... what else was he missing?

Y/N.

His eyes lit up in connecting that missing piece. He felt fairly guilty for not checking up on her sooner, but he quickly made way to their bedroom.

Shadow Milk gently pushed open the door and was hit with borderline complete darkeness. His heart sunk at the vague shape of his wife's back on the bed.

" My love..? " Shadow Milk called out quietly, putting his walking stick against the wall as he approached the bed,

Y/N slowly raised her head, but made no effort to respond verbally,

Shadow Milk let out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding, happy she was still alive,

" Sweetheart.. " His hand found her back, leaning over to look at her face,

The open door illuminated just enough for him to see. And it shattered his heart.

She looked so defeated. So broken. He could feel her hair caked with grease. How cold she was. How she lost some weight,

And his conscience immediately swallowed him whole with guilt for not finding her sooner. But he also scolded himself; this was about her, not him.

" Would you like me to lay down with you..? " Shadow Milk whispered to Y/N,

Shadow Milk slowly stepped over her, scooping her and the blankets she was swaddled in with him. He carefully adjusted her and essentially enveloped her entire being with his,

He made sure she was comfy as best as possible, which prompted the question:

" Are you comfortable..? " He asked,

Y/N gave a small nod, shifting a bit closer to her husband.

Shadow Milk watched her, and his heart ached for her. He hated when she got like this, not because it was burdening to him, but because he knew it was burdening to her.

They kept cuddled for a couple minutes, maybe an hour, until Shadow Milk decided to try and help coax her out of her episode,

" How about I call out for the next couple of days.. and we do your favorite things..hm? " He asked, gently pushing the blanket away from her face,

" I don't want to bother you.. " She finally spoke, her voice barely even audible due to how little she's spoken in the past few days—if at all,

Shadow Milk offered a little laugh, " Nonsense, my love, " He reassured, giving her a little squeeze,

Y/N was too tired to protest, so she gave a single nod, her body weight slowly relaxing again,

Shadow Milk looked at her for a few more moments, remembering she's probably lacked with her personal hygiene and didn't want her to get sick,

" How about I go run you a bath, hm..? " He asked, slowly getting up and letting her lay back down on the bed,

Y/N gave a small noise, whether it was agreement or not, was a different story. Yet Shadow Milk smiled and placed a soft kiss on her temple,

He went and turned on the bathroom light, keeping the door open so she could adjust to the sudden light. The water could be heard running.. and the scent of blueberries and lavender filled the bathroom and their bedroom,

After some minutes, he returned with a small smile,

" Alright, love, let's unwrap you like the precious gift you are.. " He gently cooed, carefully pulling and removing the blankets that kept around Y/N,

She protested a little with a whine but relented nonetheless when feeling Shadow Milk scoop her up. Y/N kept close, her body slowly adjusting to the temperature change; it was cold,

Shadow Milk smiled and brought her into the bathroom. He sat her down on the lid of the toilet seat, placing a soft kiss on her forehead,

" I'm proud of you, " Shadow Milk gently praised, " for getting up and allowing me to help you, " He continued,

Y/N's eyes didn't open despite the praise, nor did she really unfold from the fetal-like position. Instead, she felt her tears slowly fall as if she was trying to express her gratitude despite all things considered,

Shadow Milk carefully kissed her tears away and softly guided her to removing the clothes she had been wearing for the past few days,

Y/N shivered, finally crossing her arms to retain body heat, shivering a little,

" I'm almost done, promise, " He reassured, collecting all articles of clothing and putting them in the hamper,

Shadow Milk guided her gently, trying to get Y/N to use her legs and help ease her body back into moving,

Y/N slowly stepped into the warm tub, her body slowly sinking down into the water and relaxing.

Shadow Milk smiled brightly, happy to see her relax. He carefully let go of her hand and removed his own outfit, tossing his own into the hamper and stepping himself into the tub with his wife, his hair ironically taking up decent space. So he put his hair in a high bun,

Y/N leaned against Shadow Milk, him leaning in return to remind her he was still here; even despite being side by side.

The two settled in the water for a little while until Shadow Milk sat up, grabbing the shampoo,

" C'mon, sweetheart, let's get you washed.. " He explained,

Y/N, due to the lavender and feeling a little better, gave a soft nod and slowly sat in front of Shadow Milk.

Wetting her hair and putting some shampoo in his palm, he began to massage and thoroughly was Y/N's hair.

Y/N melted and even slowly began to doze off as she felt him shampoo and condition her hair. But when he was finished, Y/N opened her heavy eyes when hearing another soap cap pop open,

" Can you stand for me..? " Shadow Milk asked quietly, offering his hand to Y/N,

She gave a silent nod, taking his hand and allowing Shadow Milk to lift her up to her feet; she stumbled a little but quickly caught herself. At least it woke her up a bit.

Shadow Milk softly laughed again and began to carefully wash his wife's body. He was careful, gentle, and made sure he was being respectful and left her dignity intact.

Once all cleaned, Y/N was rinsed off, and all was clean. Well, almost all.

Once more, Shadow Milk grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste,

" Open, " He requested in a murmur,

Y/N relented and allowed her teeth to be brushed, her head resting a bit in his palm. She rinsed her mouth.

" There, " Shadow Milk mused softly, " my beloved is all clean, " He crooned and gave Y/N a soft kiss,

Y/N returned the gentle kiss, her lips finally pulling into a smile,

Shadow Milk's eyes lit up, hands cupping her face after putting down the toothbrush, " There's that's smile, my sweet smile, " he hushed,

Y/N couldn't help but giggle and snuggle her head in his palms, her cheeks squishing,

Shadow Milk's heart swelled it, knocked him breathless, " Oh how you rival the sun.. " He whispered under his breath.

Y/N's smile stayed, and Shadow Milk carefully guided her out the tub. He helped dry Y/N off, giving her one of his sweaters. It was her favorite.

With both dressed, Shadow Milk put the blankets and sheets in the wash and began to cook Y/N's favorite meal.

It took a little time, but Shadow Milk was successful and gently pulled Y/N out of her depressive episode. He had silently swore and reminded himself to check up more often, and try not to be far too swarmed with work he would forget his love.

His sweetheart.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- The Reveal

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N gets rejected for the sixth time. Max win's the Monaco grand prix 2023. Y/N decides she needs time for herself.

No hate to anyone, it's for the story

{Reader's POV}

I fell asleep crying, a faint buzzing from my phone was heard from the other room. I woke up after a few hours at 3 am when I found my phone which was burning up. The messages hadn't stop coming. They had gotten quite frantic as I scrolled through my notifications. I decided to reply to Max's messages.

He was still the guy I liked, I couldn't not reply. But I was hurt and in no shape to be talking to him. I don't know what Max said after my message because my phone shut down. I pushed myself to clean myself up and my surrounding. I was a stress cleaner and I'm so grateful to having 2 jobs right now. It meant my mind would be preoccupied. I cleaned my whole house before leaving for school in the morning. My eyes were red and puffy; I was on coffee. I had yet to switch my phone on. I wasn't ready to face Max yet.

Today was the worst day, not only because of last night's revelation but I had the least amount of classes today. None of the kids needed help after class either. That meant I was left to my own devices. When I switched the phone on, I could see missed calls and texts from Max and a couple voice messages; from the night before and today morning I guess. I opened up Google to check his schedule; he was in Monaco, which was also his home currently. I found out a lot about him, you think you know someone but then Google tells you otherwise. His dad was as shitty as he described. His records and feats were astonishing and if I wasn't this angry at him for hiding it from me, I would've been so proud and told him so. His Instagram feed was pretty and polished and he posted so much racing content. I found his streaming account with a team, he was exactly like the Max that called me everyday with occasional appearances from the cats on stream. People spoke so rudely about Max, it angered me to no end. He was a kind man, a liar but a sweet man.

The real kicker was Max's girlfriend's account where I found so many pictures of them together with her daughter, from what I found out. He looked happy, he had a family like he always said he wanted. I couldn't help but smile bitterly, a part of me wished that it was me who was the woman beside him with our kid. Life is cruel in some ways, mine is satire at best. Here, I can't date a man because I'm hung up on a guy I've never met before while said man has a family. I felt tears streaming down my face which I quickly wiped them off. I had enough of pity and sympathy stares since the morning to last a lifetime, I can't deal with any more of them.

I knew I wanted to talk to Max, the only guy who has ever understood me, however, I also knew that if we spoke I wouldn't be listening to him. I was scared I would lose the one true friend I have. Would Max understand where I was coming from? Why did he hide this from me? Did he not trust me enough? I get it, but you are a public figure. I don't know how to feel about all of this. It was the weekend tomorrow. I would be left with my thoughts and I probably shouldn't confront Max before his race on Sunday, right?

I spent the next two days planning how I would talk to Max. How I would ask him why he hid everything from me? I didn't want to fight him; my parents always said I was rude and difficult to work with, that my anger consumed me, that my words were harsh. I wasn't supposed to show such negative emotions they said. I didn't want to lose him; but was I allowed to hold on to him when he never let me have him?

Max called and texted me every day but I was very scared, scared of becoming the monster my parents said I was, sacred of hurting the one I love. There I said it, said Max and love in the same sentence. I had threaded that line so carefully but after all of this, I realised that I've loved him for years and watching him be happy with some else hurt as much as knowing that I never truly knew Max. It was Sunday night, I checked the news and saw that Max won. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to rejoice watching the man I love win at what he was best at or be hurt watching him live a life I knew nothing about.

I texted him at night on Sunday, maybe he would be busy celebrating his win, I didn't know. I didn't know a lot of things. As I waited for the text back, I logged on to my emails that I had forgotten about to find a reply from the publication I had sent my work to; to be met with dismay. Another rejection, I'm not sure how many more rejections I could take. My hands shook, making the laptop fall from my lap onto the bed. I got up and got myself a glass of water.

I laid on my bed for god knows how long before the familiar ring of my phone pulled me out of my trance. I had taken the day off tomorrow. I knew I didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with anything. I answered the call to a worried Max.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. Max looked at me confused. Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I could see the colour leave Max's face. He licked his lips before speaking. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? Max was quite, a sort of uncomfortable silence had enveloped us, for the first time in 10 years. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. I felt my voice begin to crack while I spoke, the lump in my throat unbearably big, my breathing was uneven. Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. (I smiled with only my lips) Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. I laughed bitterly. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I had tears streaming down my face at this point. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. (I wiped away my tears) Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I saw tears streaming down Max's face. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And then the screen went black.

[Max spent the whole week worrying about Y/N. He couldn't think straight. This was weird, she was never this busy before. It was stressing him out, he couldn't eat or sleep. He never even thought about the fact that maybe his lie had been exposed. When Y/N texted him, he was at a club in Monaco with the other drivers to celebrate his win. He only saw it after he got back home and immediately called her. She looked different, there was this sadness in her eyes. The smile didn't reach her eyes. And then she started talking, his heart was beating very fast. The moment she said Formula One, his whole world came crashing down. The more she spoke the more he felt like he was falling deeper, in a pit of his own making. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to explain himself but no words left his mouth. Then she started talking about his girlfriend. He felt like this was the last time he would get to talk to her, the last time he would hear her voice. This felt like the last time he would have her]

[20dollarlolita]

Pattern Review: Tea and Treadle Little Betty

I've reviewed a cut/sew.co lolita pattern, and some First Stop Cosplay lolita patterns, and today I'm reviewing this lolita JSK pattern from Tea and Treadle.

[link to purchase size xs-l] [link to purchase size l-3xl]

Unlike those patterns, this one actually required relatively little effort to make it work as a pretty solid lolita dress. On First Stop Cosplay's patterns, I had to re-pattern a couple of individual pieces. The HeyCutsew pattern was so far beyond help that it wasn't worth trying. On this one, I added additional fullness to the skirt, and that was all the modification I did to the pattern.

This pattern is for a JSK that has a built in ruffled underskirt. (People who've made an Ultrabustle can use that instead of building a new underskirt, if you want).

The bodice is fully lined, and has princess seams and a 1/4 back shirring panel. The instructions tell you how to add ribbon loops to the shirring panel for your back lacing ribbon; I didn't have ribbon at work so there's no lacing in my loops yet. The straps also don't meet in the back the way they appear to in this picture; they're pinned together in this picture to fit on my hanging mannequin. They're actually standard over the shoulder straps. I made this dress at work, so it's store property for the next three months, which is why I don't have a lot of pictures to work with.

I found that the princess seams in the size M didn't have a lot of shape to them, and so the bodice is a little bit tube shaped. My flat menswear mannequin definitely is not helping the look. However you can see in my one tried-on picture that it's not really forming around my bust. A certain amount of this will be able to be adjusted via the back corset lacing.

The skirt was also really not full enough for a lolita skirt. The pattern has the skirt at 2x what the waist of the dress is. I added fullness so that it was more like 3x for the top skirt and 2.5x for the underskirt. This was actually the only adjustment I had to make.

This pattern has no notches or grain lines, and that really does not do it any favors. I might have sewn my side seams together incorrectly (I don't have the dress available to check) because the side back piece fits on either orientation. Having a notch on the side seam would have made sure that I didn't have it flipped backwards. Notches aren't a thing that is optional in a sewing pattern; they're an important sign post that tells you which way to go. Notches are necessary for a good project in the same way that stop signs are necessary at an intersection. Yeah, you could probably figure out how to not hit other cars, but why would you go with "probably" when you can have a definite instruction to prevent accidents.

The pattern has both skirts cut on the lengthwise grain, which is a problem if you're using a print that's oriented in the normal direction, but would be very useful if using a quilt print with a large stripe. The skirt pattern is just rectangles, and you're given specific dimensions, so it's not too hard to adjust them for cutting on the crosswise grain. If you can figure out how to assemble a princess seamed bodice without notches or grainlines, you're probably also experienced enough to rotate a rectangular pattern.

Seam allowances are 5/8", and I do wish they'd given a little bit extra on the tops of the ruffles. This would have made the gathering stitches easier to hide. I used a serger+differential feed+serger ruffling foot for most of my ruffles, because I was at work and wanted to show off those machines. This meant that I didn't have as much of a problem with hiding the gathering edges, but keeping your two basting stitches contained within half an inch is kind of annoying.

There are diagrams that explain some parts. There's 20 total in the whole 11-page document, not counting cutting diagrams. Like almost all indie patterns, including my own, the instructions suffer from not being able to be consistent about the expectation of the user's sewing skills. Some more difficult skills are glossed over, and then some easier skills get several steps going over each component of the technique. I really wish it included a diagram of the ruffled underskirt. The pieces making up the ruffle underskirt are called "base A," "base B," "ruffle 1," and "ruffle 2". At one part ruffle 1 is sandwiched between the bottom edge of base A and the top edge of base B. I spent a lot of time staring at that section going "what does this mean what does this mean what does this mean??" At the end of the day, I did figure it out, but not understanding that step made me lose like a whole day of productivity.

BTW it's assembled like this, and I have no idea if my diagram here is more or less useful than the instructions that come with the pattern.

I'd say this pattern runs large. I ended up making the size M for myself, and I'm normally a L+ in other brands. This pattern goes up to 3x, but their XS size isn't all that small. I was going to make twin dresses for myself and a friend of mine using another Tea and Treadle pattern, but their sizes aren't inclusive of her size, and so that's a pattern we're not able to make. Full disclosure, at one point I forgot that the seam allowance was 5/8, and sewed at a 1/2 inch seam allowance. This did not help my fitting problems and it was entirely my fault. Read your instructions, kiddos.

So let's get to the summary:

Do I recommend this pattern? I had fun making it and I like the garment I ended up with. The lack of notches and grain lines makes this a very beginner-unfriendly pattern. You need to have enough sewing experience to know what a princess seamed pattern should look like, and how it should be placed relative to the fabric grain. I think this is probably a pretty good pattern for someone who is a lolita beginner who has intermediate level sewing skills. The design itself is solid, the alterations needed are relatively minor. Generally when we're giving someone a pattern and telling them to make a lolita dress with it, "and then just add some lace," is often uttered. This can be a task that's tough for someone sewing lolita fashion for the first-ish time, and so I like that this pattern shows where to put the lace and where to put the ruffles.

Unlike the First Stop Cosplay patterns (25 per pattern and came in 1 size), I paid $11 for this pattern and it came with four sizes. I originally made the wrong size (my fault; I matched the waist measurement and then sized up, which resulted in my first version of this garment being WAY to big. Go by your bust measurement and don't size up; the elastic in the back will take care of you), and so having the ability to cut all my pieces down to a smaller size is what stopped this whole thing from being a fiasco. I also bought the pattern and had the ability to print it out literally 2 minutes later. There was no down time where I waited for a human to send me an activation code. Unlike the Cut/Sew dot Co pattern, this pattern did not give me a nightmare of a dress made by a person who had definitely never seen lolita fashion before and maybe had never seen clothing before.

Will I make this again? Maybe. I'd go through the pattern pieces and add grainlines and notches if I do, because those are actually important parts for the pattern.

Total cost of making this dress:

$74 for the dress fabric, underskirt fabric, interfacing, and headbow fabric (would have been slightly more without my employee discount)

$3 for lining fabric from the secondhand store

$1 for elastic ($7 for 100 yard roll, used 2 yd, rounded price up)

$7 for lace (14 yards at less than 50 cents a yard, bought in bulk from cheeptrims)

So if we are not counting the cost of the patterns, it's $85 for this dress. I don't usually count the patterns since they're reusable. However, if we're adding the patterns

$10.70 for the Little Betty JSK pattern

$4 for the now-deleted Holi Loli Headbow Pattern (You can aproximate the dimensions from this post if you're industrious)

And we have now been brought to $99.70, making this dress and headbow an under-$100 project.

A while back, I started a blog that was focused on making EGL fashion on a budget, and for some reason people liked it. I do hear a lot of people saying that handmaking lolita will cost as much as buying from brandname lolita. I like to post the costs of my projects so that I can talk about how I don't think that's true. I think it's entirely possible that you CAN easily spend more than offbrand, but I don't think it's an inherent thing. I think you would have to work pretty hard to buy fabric and trims that comes out to the $450 that buying a burando set is. I could have made this project with much less expensive fabric and still had a successful dress at the end. And what I have now is a very unique dress that means something to me (chronically ill and disabled=out of spoons=better wear the dress covered in spoons. It's a joke. Bonus joke for headbow being made of the fabric with the teapot lids because a headbow is a lid for your coord). It's something you can't buy.

So no, I don't think handmade lolita is dead. I don't think it's just as expensive as premade lolita. I do still think it's a good option for lolita on a budget.

Sincerely, Fight Me.

Pattern gets rated a 7/10, end result was pretty good but I had to already know how to sew to get there, required an easy modification but at the end of the day still required a modification, recommended for beginner lolitas who are not beginner sewists.

[elodieunderglass]

I have a fictional horse question and I would appreciate your perspective!

I read all of Tamora Pierce without being or becoming a horse girl. But! A fic idea I have been rotating in my head for months needs a Horse Response and I can’t rotate the idea without it.

Peachblossom, a strawberry roan gelding who is tricksy, bitey, and grumpy, has just saved the life of a person he has previously annoyed. Person (and the other people present) respectfully thank Peachblossom for doing so. And Peachblossom gives a Horse Response, to the effect of “you’re very welcome; I’m very wonderful; apples plz.”

What might that look like? I’ve put in a series of complicated ear flicks as a placeholder but it doesn’t feel correct.

Thank you for any horse thoughts you may have! It’s been very fun learning about Killie and his entourage. I’m particularly fond of Derek.

(killie the jockey OC's tumblr tag) Aww that's very kind! I'm continually amazed by meeting new people who say they're fond of Killie and his absurd network.

Peachblossom!! EXCELLENT hateful and independent strawberry roan representation! I remember him.

One sweet way that horses show affection and build bonds is to share breath. it's as sweet as it sounds. they place their foreheads close to each other, touch noses, and gently blow air from their noses into each other's nostrils. that serves as general greeting, kiss, affection, scent-sharing, gratitude, and various other expressions of intimacy, kinship, and/or friendship. in the image below they are being VERY sweet and completely pressing their faces together (saying LOVE LOVE LOVE and PEACE PEACE PEACE.)

I'll go into more detail below

if you want to do this with a horse, you should empty your mind and try to be relaxed and peaceful and indicate psychically that you want to do it. they'll usually have to put their head down for you to reach.

Another thing horses do to each other is to scratch each other's withers - the high point of the shoulder. they do it like this, which is super cute and heart-shaped:

they cannot reach this space of the body for themselves, and so this is especially delicious Prize Scratching Opportunity. to scratch each other's withers, they stand shoulder to shoulder and nibble each other with their teeth. it is Extremely Good. if you want to do this to a horse, you can usually offer to do it by saying something friendly and putting your hand on their shoulder - if they move away, they don't want it. scratches will normally be received well (only do this with horses that you're allowed to touch, of course, and upon invitation.)

various horses may do these things to each other in various different ways (or not at all). we are also differently shaped from horses. so the body language can be funny in translation. Horses actually do recognise this, though.

I had a horse friend once (a big stupid retired Thoroughbred - he wasn't mine, he just lived with my friend's horse) who would lovingly reciprocate a withers-scratch by wrapping his neck around my body to delicately, gently and respectfully remove my ponytail holder with his teeth and lips. this, to him, was the equivalent in body language. You can see EXACTLY how his mind was working! reach a high point of the body that SEEMS kind of like withers, this is where the mane is on humans, isn't it - this is the highest point - I'll give it a nice - OH you've got a big knot there!! I'll get it out for you!! Don't worry, I'm exceptionally popular BECAUSE I'm so good at grooming. OH MAN IT WAS ONE OF THESE THINGS AGAIN! you're always picking these up! do you roll around in them?! and then he would carefully give the hair elastic to you, with his mouth. Can you imagine - how careful and gentle he had to be to do that. And of course the correct thing is to say: "WOW big guy thanks SO much!!!!" and resign yourself to having a certain amount of green horse-smelling grass-slime in your hair. that, you see, is an expression of genuine cross-species love and communication - an invitation to love and be loved as a fellow member of the planet - and is to be treasured, even if you stink now and didn't really want your hair down.

And finally, a horse that thinks you are going to give it some treats will nuzzle and mouth at your clothing to find where you are keeping the treats. in case you have temporarily forgotten that there are treats in your clothing. their lips are surprisingly mobile. hi. hello. horses get treats.

those are all things that nice horses do.

now, horrible and rude horses do exist. they all have different personalities. they are extremely social animals. in an ordinary horse social life they will have size differences (sometimes quite significant!), dominance structures, breed differences, and multiple-species friendships. and therefore, each horse will initiate contact or express emotion in a different way.

a CHEEKY way to express affection, for example, can be just straight-up knocking a human over with their face. that's because a charming, kind and sweet thing for a horse to do to another horse is to firmly press faces together and share breath; the human/horse equivalent (as polite and intelligent horses know perfectly well) is to carefully imitate this by lowering their nose to your face level so you can blow in their nostrils with your little tiny face; the CHEEKY thing to do is to whack you with their nose and blow pneumatic amounts of snot on you. GET LOVED IDIOT. SNOTTED ALSO. and then laugh about it.

I can imagine that being in line with Peachblossom's sense of humour (not that I remember him especially well.)

tossing his head and arching his neck and dancing a bit to do a bit of stallion-ish showing off (I am tremendously gorgeous, aren't I) and then getting serious and calm and still for a second and putting his head down as if to nuzzle and share breath (I do actually like you a little bit) and when you fall for it, a very slight headbutt (hahahahaaahahaha you THOUGHT! you THOUGHT!!!!) followed by WHERE'S THE FOOD LMAO.

[lektoheart]

Belly Movement

I've had a few people request for me to add more belly movement during compressions. For a long time, I thought adding this would be impossible, or highly impractical at best. Fortunately, I figured out a way to do this.

The first part of the above video shows belly expansion during compressions, and the second part shows a breathing animation that speeds up along with the heart rate.

The rest of this post will be a long explanation for why something that seems so simple ended up being very complicated. Feel free to skip if you aren't interested in the technical side of game development.

How Animation Works

To explain why adding this movement was difficult, it is important to understand how 3d animation works. 3d models are made up of vertices, basically a list of points that are connected into triangles. To make the models move, these vertices need to move, creating a new model. However, no one wants to create an entirely new 3d model for every frame of an animation. Instead, these vertices are parented to bones, which allow an animator to move a bunch of vertices at once. For example, the vertices of the arm are parented to the arm bone, etc. In reality, vertices can actually be parented to multiple bones with different weights, allowing each bone to influence the vertices' positions. The collection of bones making up a character is called a rig.

The Problem

So why couldn't I just animate the belly movement like any of the other animations in my game? The problem is that I imported these characters from vroid, which means I'm limited to the vroid rig. And the vroid rig does not have a separate bone dedicated to belly movement. Instead, it only has spine bones for controlling the torso. This is why, in the MTM animation, I imitate filling the character's lungs by arching their back.

Theoretically, I could instead import the vroid characters into Blender before importing them into Unity. Using Blender, I could add my own belly bone, solving the problem. But then I would lose the vroid file format, which comes with many benefits. I use a plugin to import these characters into Unity, and this plugin doesn't just set up the model. It also sets up materials, hair physics, jiggle physics, facial expression, eye movement. If I modified the characters in Blender, I would then need to set up all that stuff myself, adding potential hours of work for each character.

After realizing this, I basically gave up on the idea of adding belly movement. The result wasn't worth the development time I could have been spending on something else.

Potential Solution 1

When thinking about this problem, I realized there is another animation technique that is often used for 3d models. Blend shapes! Instead of using bones to move the vertices, an animator can directly move the vertices themselves, then save this new position as a blend shape. Then, the animator can freely interpolate between the vertices' original position, and the the position of the blend shape. This technique is often used for facial expressions, and the vroid models come with predefined blend shapes for the face mesh.

Vroid is mainly used by vtubers, and it is a very common thing for vtubers to transfer custom blend shapes onto existing vroid characters to create their facial expressions. I thought I could do a similar thing to transfer a belly expansion blend shape onto my character's body models.

Unfortunately, you can only transfer blend shapes from one model to another if they have the same number of vertices. This works fine for faces, since vroid splits the face from the rest of the model. However, the body model is combined with the clothes, meaning each character has a different number of body vertices.

After realizing this issue, I gave up on this idea. Until...

Potential Solution 2

The main issue here is that I needed to transfer the belly's movement onto the clothing. Blend shape data is stored as the change in position from the original mesh. Supposedly these deltas can only be transferred between meshes with the same topology. However, I figured I could calculate what the movement of the clothing vertices should be by looking at the closest vertices to the body mesh.

The idea was to loop through all the vertices in the clothes, project the vertices onto the closest triangle of the body mesh, then use bilinear interpolation between deltas of the body blend shape to calculate the delta position of the clothing vertex.

This method should work. However, I couldn't find any information about people doing similar things online. I suspected such a method should be common knowledge if it worked well, which led me to believe that it wouldn't. I think this method would work for clothing that closely matched the body's topology. However, I needed this method to work for shirts, dresses, high-waisted pants, skirts, etc.

This method would be complicated to implement, and I didn't want to put in the effort for something that probably wouldn't work well. I also gave up on this idea.

The Actual Solution

After having a couple failed ideas, I wanted to forget about this issue and work on something else. However, I felt my last idea was so close to being correct. Then I realized something quite simple. It all comes down to the fact that the blend shape I aimed to create was really very basic. I was just going to go into Blender, grab a vertex from the middle of the character's belly, and pull it out using the proportional editing tool. I realized that such a simple edit could be done programmatically in Unity.

Basically, during the game's runtime I can find all the vertices around a target and pull them out using a custom falloff curve. This works exactly how I would have edited the mesh in Blender. And since I am pulling out all the vertices based on distance from the target, it doesn't matter if it pulls the character's body or their clothes. Everything should be deformed equally, resulting in basically no clipping issues.

Ta Da, problem solved! Well, not exactly. Editing the mesh during runtime hits performance pretty hard. My test scene was normally running at 200 fps, but the realtime deformation cut that down to 50 fps. And that was just a test scene. This solution would not be sufficient in the actual game.

That was okay though. I just needed to save this deformation as a blend shape ahead of time. Then there would be no performance impact. This ended up being somewhat complicated in itself. Mainly due to the way Unity handles mesh assets. But I'll skip those problems here, as they aren't as interesting.

Anyway, after all this effort I finally got something working. It may have been a lot of effort for something so simple. But figuring this stuff out is my favorite part of game development. I also plan to use this deformation technique in the future for other things. I think the results look pretty good, but let me know what you think!

[grison-in-space]

Listening to Artificial Condition again, it strikes me how much Murderbot uses empathy reflexively as a survival skill. Look at this bit.

Upon meeting it, ART allows it on board and then announces that it knows that Murderbot is rogue. Then ART threatens to destroy it if it hacks ART's own systems. Murderbot is immediately terrified and shuts down all inputs, gives serious thought to spending the entire three month journey unconscious, and then considers the potential avenues of damage from ART's drones. ART, not realizing why Murderbot had suddenly gone silent, tells it to quit sulking, which understandably pisses off the still-terrified Murderbot. It dumps a bunch of memories of coercive treatment into ART's feed, and ART goes silent.

Then this happens:

Then it said, I’m sorry I frightened you. Okay, well. If you think I trusted that apology, you don’t know Murderbot. Most likely it was playing a game with me. I said, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to ride to your next destination.” I’d explained that earlier, before it opened the hatch for me, but it was worth repeating. I felt it withdraw back behind its wall. I waited, and let my circulatory system purge the fear-generated chemicals. More time crawled by, and I started to get bored. Sitting here like this was too much like waiting in a cubicle after I’d been activated, waiting for the new clients to take delivery, for the next boring contract. If it was going to destroy me, at least I could get some media in before that happened. I started the new show again, but I was still too upset to enjoy it, so I stopped it and started rewatching an old episode of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. After three episodes, I was calmer and reluctantly beginning to see the transport’s perspective. A SecUnit could cause it a lot of internal damage if it wasn’t careful, and rogue SecUnits were not exactly known for lying low and avoiding trouble. I hadn’t hurt the last transport I had taken a ride on, but it didn’t know that. I didn’t understand why it had let me aboard, if it really didn’t want to hurt me. I wouldn’t have trusted me, if I was a transport. Maybe it was like me, and it had taken an opportunity because it was there, not because it knew what it wanted.

The thing about Murderbot's survival is that it clearly involves quite a bit of negotiating with other constructs and bots. That's how it talks its way onto cargo hauler bots in the first place. It uses empathy--envisioning the emotional and cognitive context of the individuals it encounters--to work out what different kinds of people want, so that it can offer them fair trades. It also uses empathy to consider what humans might be looking for, so it can practice blending in and hide.

Murderbot would never have survived so long if it wasn't capable of assessing the individual desires of the people--human, bot, and construct--around it. It thinks about ART's probable fears and motivations so that it can consider whether ART is inherently an ongoing threat or a potential ally.

When your survival depends on evading detection, you get really good at assessing perceptual biases so that you can shape yourself to fit into them. People talk about murderbot being radically empathetic as a choice it makes, or as a feature of its personality that makes it a good person. But I think murderbot would be the the first person to tell you that this empathy is part of its threat assessment suite, a skill that was developed out of necessity in order to allow you to survive.

It is also a trait that makes murderbot a good person, of course: it chooses very carefully to try to survive by doing as little harm as possible and by offering things, like media, that buy it access to things it needs. But it started as a survival skill. It's part of hypervigilance.

I think one of the strengths of this series is that so many of the things we love about SecUnit are traits developed for survival in an inherently threatening world. The shape of its mind and heart have been changed by the trauma of its origin--but they don't make murderbot less good for being altered, even if that skill was developed in a traumatic context.

I like that.

[nightmare-niko]

Just The Two Of Us, 깊어져가는 Moonstruck [Jake Sim x fem!reader]

Just the two of us. 깊어져 가는 moonstruck. Oh, you make me go crazy over you, you, baby. Let me hold you close. 떠오른 달 그 위로. 이 밤을 날아 crazy over you, you, baby

Warnings: friends to lovers, I wanted to be pretty long and super cute. So of course I'm gunna write insp by my favorite song on my favorite album favorite band!!!

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: completely oblivious dummies, tooth rottingly sweet, self-indulgent, I need Jake so bad

You turned over in your bed— Exhausted after a grueling all-nighter with your best friend Jake. The sunlight peaking through your blinds is harsh on your tired eyes.

What time was it? How long have you been sleeping? Where was your phone?

Blindly, you pat around on your mattress in search of your phone. Instead of your soft mattress and plush blanket, your hand collides with something.

You jolt up in your bed, "what the hell Jake?” you whisper. " how did you get in my bed?!”

The boy groans, "You know I can't sleep alone Y/nie~”

You laugh, "That is so not true-- you sleep alone in your dorm.”

"Not my fault you don't like sleeping over my place.” he doesn't open his eyes, rolling from his back to his side.

"Why would we hang out there when I live alone?”

"I basically live here,” He mumbles.

"Yeah… for free,” you deadpan.

He sighs, "Yeah but you love me.”

You poke your finger into Jake's side, "You eat all my food and hog my bed.”

"You have the best snacks,” he shrugs, finally opening his eyes to look at you. "What time is it?”

"I have no clue… I think you're lying on my phone… “

Jake shuffles around in place, fishing your cell phone from under his Torso. He examines the screen, rubbing his eye With his free hand. "Shit it's 12:30, we should- Like- get up and start our day.”

Your eyebrows furrow, "it's winter break— what are we gonna do?”

Jake pauses, thinking way too hard about the question. "We could like… Go to mine and play video games...?”

"We always play video games…“ you pout, laying back down in your bed, facing Jake.

"Then what do you wanna do, baby?” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Shamelessly— you lean into his touch, the warmth of his hand brings goosebumps to your skin, "I don't know, what haven't we done in a while?”

"Wanna go to the arcade?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion, "You gonna win me something?”

"You know I am, baby.”

~

Jake didn't bother going back to the dorms to get ready for your 'date’. Like he said, he basically lived with you. Which meant he kept half of his wardrobe at your place. You made sure to dress in your cutest winter clothes. Totally not because you wanted to look good for your best friend for which you have absolutely no romantic feelings at all. You told yourself that you just wanted to ensure your fashionable best friend didn't out-dress you— But who were you kidding? Everyone knows that you're bullshitting with that excuse.

Of course, you had a massive crush on your best friend. But you didn't exactly know if Jake felt the way you felt. Sure he flirted with you like crazy— and you always flirted back. He calls you baby for crying out loud! It wasn't normal for just friends in any way shape or form. But it was your normal.

You couldn't remember the last time you went to an arcade, but you definitely remember that it was with Jake. You two went everywhere together! That's just how best friends work.

~

You arrive at the mostly empty arcade, a lot of the students that went to your university went home for winter break. That meant that the popular spots were usually nice and empty for the two of you.

Jake throws his arm around your shoulder, "What do you wanna play first, baby?”

You hum, “air hockey?”

"Loser buys dinner?”

“oh you're so on!” you run ahead of the boy to get ready to demolish him in air hockey.

You weren't so sure if Jake was actually bad at air hockey or if he was just letting you win— Either way, it was great for your ego seeing the score in front of you reading a Wild 15 to 5.

“I don't know why you always insist on making bets on games you're bad at,” you tease, leading Jake over to another game.

“Maybe I just like spoiling you,” he shrugs, putting coins into the machine.

"Well, you could spoil me without embarrassing yourself.” You mindlessly begin to play the game before you.

He laughs melodically, "I'm not embarrassing myself, baby. I just like seeing your face when you win.”

You gasp shyly at the comment." Why are you flirting so suddenly?" You hit him across the arm.

He laughs cutely, "I'm always flirting with you, pretty"

"Oh my gosh, take it easy lover boy-" You walk away from Jake to find something else to play, and to hide the embarrassing blush on your face.

You only do a little bit of walking before you lay eyes on the claw machine section of the arcade. With a sparkle in your eye, you approach the machines Full of adorable stuffed toys.

"Do you want me to win you one?" Jake throws his arm over your shoulder again.

"You can try~" You tease.

He puts his hand out in fake offense, “You have no faith in me, I’m hurt.”

"I have plenty faith in you Jakey," reassure him.

"How about you try to win one of these?" You point to one of the cute puppies within all of the other small stuffed toys in one of the machines.

“Alright, bet— sit back and watch a masterwork." Jake dramatically cracks his knuckles and stretches before trying his hand at the game.

After Jake's fifth try with no success, you began to realize that maybe your initial lack of faith was Valid. He groans in frustration— Claiming that the game was totally rigged and unwinnable.

"It's a claw machine, Jake- there's only one goal...” You giggle at the way he’s pouting at not being able to win you a toy. "Here, let me try."

You push him away and Start up the machine, the song begins to play as you carefully maneuver the silver claw right above the toy you want. Jake watches intently as you push the red button. effortlessly— the claw grabs onto the plush, picking it up and moving it to the drop spot.

Jake's jaw drops as you triumphantly hold up your new puppy plush.

"I'm beginning to think you're just really bad at games...”

"I am not! You're just lucky!" He's pouting so hard you're worried his face is going to get stuck that

“Oh sure… lucky.” You tease. "So, what are we gonna name our son?" You ask, absent-mindedly playing with the plushie's soft ears.

Jake hums, "Maybe... Jake jr?"

"Ah yes, naming him after the one who didn't catch him.” "On c'mon, he looks just like me! Why wouldn't he be Jake jr?!" Jake takes Jake Junior from your hands, posing the toy next to his face to show their similarities.

You pull out your cell phone, giggling as you snap photos of Jake and your new son.

“Now I really gotta win you something” He pouts again as he scans around to find the perfect toy for you. He gasps as he presses his face into the glass of a different claw game. "There she is look!'" Jake exclaims, pointing to a cute bunny plush. "It's Y/N junior!"

You follow where he’s pointing, a tiny brown bunny plush with a ribbon around its neck sits cutely on top of the others. “Now all you gotta do is catch her."

"That's why you're gonna help me!"

With your combined forces you managed to win the rabbit in only two tries. Immediately you take selfies with your new children.

•

"Ooh! Jake let's do the photo booth!” You take his hand in yours as you pull him into the booth with you. As the two of you cram into the confined space you tug the curtain closed. The comforting scent of your best friend's cologne infiltrates your senses. Boy, he was closer than expected-- and so beautiful. You try to push away that thought— starting the timer for the camera. “Let's do a cute one first!”

"Psh— I'll be in it, it'll already be cute."

You roll your eyes as the counter ticks down. Jake throws a finger heart while you cup your hands under your chin cutely. The camera flashes and you begin to think of another pose to do before the camera goes off again. Jake scoots closer to you, gently putting his arm around your waist, He smooshes the sides of your faces together, putting half of a hand heart on his cheek. You mirror him, winking for the picture.

For a moment you can’t help but wonder if Jake could hear your heart pounding loudly in your chest from the proximity. You just have to hope he can't.

"Hey-" Jake calls to you softly, moving your chin gently to look at him. Blood rushes to your face in record time at the proximity. The faint countdown for the final photo is drowned out by the erratic thumping of your heart. You panic internally as you watch Jake close the distance between you.

He kisses you so gently, Freezing in place so the photo captures the moment. He pulls away slightly - but you can't wake up from this dream just yet. You take Jake's face in your ars and Kiss him once more. You swear you are in heaven, Your best friend just Kissed you!

The realization hits you like a freight train, causing you to pull away in shock.

"You just kissed me!" You exclaim.

Jake laughs at your red face and shocked expression, "You kissed me back!"

“Of course I kissed you back why wouldn't I kiss you back?”

“I don't know! maybe you weren't into me like that,” he shrugs.

“Oh, don't be dumb, of course I'm into you like that Jake.”

“Well, now I know! c'mon, let's look at our pictures.”

Yourusername

liked by s1mjak3_ and others

Yourusername: Aracade date with boyfie🤍🤍🤍

s1mjak3: The claw machine goat fr fr🤪🤪🤪

s1mjak3

liked by Yourusername and others

s1mjak3: Us when we dominate the arcade😎😎😎😎

Yourusername: you mean us when i dominate the arcade and you just watch...

s1mjak3: dont be a hater wtf😒😒😒😒

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