#like that's clearly where we're headed. but i wouldn't be surprised if they lean into the foiling of it all

[raayllum]

thinking about s5 rayla and claudia parallels ("i feel stuck, callum" / "but what good does that do us if we're stuck right here?") and how s6 might come down to rayla being determined to free callum from possession at all costs, and claudia being determined to free aaravos from his prison at all costs

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤ“is your girlfriend single?”ㅤ...ㅤ( 엔하이픈 )

ㅤㅤ﹙1214﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff, humour est. relㅤㅤwarnings light kissing, slight jealousyㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ didn't turn out how i wanted these to be but hope you like them nonetheless >< happy reading and pls rb & leave feedback iNDEX

HEESEUNG

you were out with him and his friend group when the question suddenly pops up, asked by one of his friends who definitely meant it in a fun and joking way, however the frown on your boyfriend's face proves he didn't like it.

it takes him a good few seconds to comprehend the question before he hears you stifle a laugh. he looks at his friend, scoffing bitterly, raising his brows mockingly. “is my girl single?”

“dude it's a jo—”

he huffs before his hands cup your cheeks and make him look at you, pressing his lips against yours for a few seconds to get the point across. “no, she's not.” he speaks with a slight nod, trying to look modest even though there's a smug smile on his lips. “and don't ask stupid questions.”

JONGSEONG

he's confused, for the most part. his eyes refuse to leave the phone screen, going over and over the caption of your post— anniversary post, clearly written down below the pictures where you are sitting on his lap with a cake and he's kissing your cheeks.

‘happy three years to us. i love you, my love’

“are they stupid?” he asks bluntly, looking at you with his mouth agape. everything in that post makes it obvious that you are definitely not single.

“it's most likely a joke, baby,” you say, leaning against his arms with a pout, wishing he would just let it go and pay attention to you. “don't mind them,”

he nods at your words absentmindedly, brows still furrowed at the screen. you roll your eyes, pulling his arms to lay him back on the bed. he quickly sends a ‘no.’ for a reply before putting his phone aside and getting back to you, hovering over you while he has you pinned down, planting a soft kiss on your neck. “you're all mine, yeah?”

JAEYUN

brows furrows, head tilted slightly to the left, eyes wide open in half confusion half surprise. he doesn't understand why anyone would ask that question, because it sounds stupid as hell. “huh?”

“i asked if your girlfriend is single,” the person asks again and you laugh under your breath, knowing that they're probably just pulling their leg.

“she's my soulmate, the love of my life, my other half, anything— but single,” and he knows he's being a bit too much he jake wants to show you off and also make it clear that you're most definitely off the markets.

“jake, that's enough—”

“no? why are they asking if you're single when we're literally walking hand in hand?” continues to explain it to you why that was such a rhetorical question even after that person leaves, doesn't let go your hands until you get home. “should we take a few couple pics to post them, hm?”

SUNGHOON

mad as hell, gives them the most deadpan face ever. well, he introduced you as his dear girlfriend the minute you two walked in through the doors of the restaurant for the highschool reunion.

“she wouldn't date you even if she was,” says with his eyes looking at them up and down with displeasure written on his face clearly. he's not having any of it.

he has his hand on your thigh the whole time you two are at the reunion, giving it soft caresses and light squeezes, never missing a chance to compliment you or even flirt with you when you two have been dating for over a year now.

and when you try to remove his hand or something, he pulls you even closer, mostly because he's enjoying your flustered face. “it's so hard having a beautiful girlfriend,”

SUNOO

it's so serious for him, he's shooting daggers with his eyes, annoyance clearly written on his face. it doesn't escape his gaze how the guy in front of him is checking you out, even though while being subtle about it.

“of course, not. she's with me, can't you see?” it's a sharp reply that clearly shuts them off, and sunoo rolls his eyes, turning his attention back onto you.

you chuckle under your breath, but also composing yourself as you link your arms with him as you two walk away from them. “hey, don't you think that was too much?”

and he laughs softly, leaning his face down to plant a feathery kiss on your cheeks, looking at you with a slight grin. “well, they shouldn't have asked such a stupid question then,”

JUNGWON

he immediately goes silent when he sees that question in the comments of his vlog with you, shooting question marks to the screen with his stares, the embodiment of ‘does anyone else find this weird :/’

“ah, if yn is single?” words actually trail off as soon as they dance out of his mouth while tries to process the question. is it a joke? are they being serious? he doesn't know. “uh, i don't think she is since we're dating. . .?”

he's stuttering and you're next to him, hiding your face while suppressing your laughter because he's so adorable. “wonnie, i'm pretty sure they were just teasing you,”

“ah, okay,” he nods in realisation, chuckling awkwardly while looking at the screen in silence for a few seconds before adding. “we're not entertaining any more questions about yn,”

NI-KI

he shrugs and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his pants, giving them a blank look as if he doesn't know a thing. he cocks his head in your direction, asking cluelessly. “are you single?”

and you shoot him a confused look, blinking blankly as you point your index finger at yourself. “me?”

“who else?”

you continue to look at him in confusion, turning your gaze to your classmate before it lands back on your boyfriend. “i'm dating you, how would i be single?”

riki immediately turns his head to your poor classmate, the smug smile never leaving his face as he shakes his head. “she's not,” and then he simply puts his arms over your shoulders, pulling you flush against him and walks past them, without sparing another glance.

taglist

[veritasangel]

⋆ ｡⋆ any pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none {wc: 759}

↣ i might delete this one so we'll see

The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with conversation and a low hum of music in the background. Simon sat next to you at the counter, nursing a whiskey, eyes half-focused around the room.

You'd met up after a long week-nothing official, just two people from work relaxing at the same time. Something had been brewing between the two of you for a period of time, but neither had made a move to resolve it.

You leaned in fairly close to him, opening your mouth to speak.

"Your—"

He looked at you, a half-smirk curling his lips and before you could even finish, he interrupted. "What? Finally givin' in and flirting with me, love?" His tone was low, dripping with that familiar cocky edge.

This wasn't the first time he'd assumed an attempt to get close to him was being made. It also wasn't the first time he'd been so wrong.

"I knew you couldn't resist.”

He leant back in his chair, raising an eyebrow to regard you with a knowing glint in his eye-as if he'd already won some imaginary game he felt you were playing. He had that arrogant air around him-as if he knew precisely what you would say, and that it was in his favour. He always had been that way: confident, in control, and used to winning battles on and off the field.

You blinked, surprised for half a second before narrowing your eyes at him.

"Actually-" you started, your voice steady, "I was just going to tell you that your laces are undone, and if you trip over them you'll look like an idiot, so it was just a friendly heads up."

Ghost's smirk faltered, his dark eyes darting down to his boots for a split second-confirmation of what you'd said. The undone laces half-dragged on the bar floor as you had pointed out. You could see his jaw tense slightly, but he wasn't about to admit defeat that easily.

You cut in before he could get a word out, your voice sharp and unyielding. "And so we're clear, Riley," you said, leaning in a little, your tone lowering as you met his gaze, "If- and it's a big if- I were flirting with you, you' wouldn't have to wonder. You'd know. Unfortunately for you, I wasn't."

His eyes darkened, and something flickered in them-surprise, perhaps, or something else entirely-but he didn't break eye contact. He wasn't used to people shutting him down, least of all like this, and it showed. You could tell this was a man who spent his life making sure every situation was under his thumb, and at that moment, he didn't know how to react.

He cleared his throat, trying to recover some of that lost bravado. "Didn't think you were one for playin' it cool," he muttered, though his voice had lost some of that earlier arrogance. "Guess I misjudged."

"Guess you did," you said smoothly, kicking back in your chair with a satisfied smirk. "It's alright. Wouldn't be the first time you've been wrong."

The dig had landed where it needed to. You saw the faintest twitch in his jaw, his hand tightening around his glass. The tension crackled again in the air between you, different this time more charged, more real. Something had changed, just enough in the dynamic of the two of you, to throw him off his game.

Ghost’s eyes lingered on you a beat longer, then grunted and leaned down to loop his laces. He straightened up, looking across at you. He enjoyed a challenge, and you'd just issued one he clearly hadn't bargained for.

“Fair enough," he said after a long pause, a faint smirk on his face. "Just not used to people not throwing themselves at me, you know?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should get used to it."

He half smiled, more genuine this time. "Maybe I will.

There was a silent understanding now that you weren't here to stroke his ego or play into his games. You invited him to join you for a drink, and there wasn't an ulterior motive; that's all it was to you, drinks.

Ghost raised his glass to his lips, taking a languid sip as his eyes flickered back to yours, the spark still hanging between you. "Well, then. Let's see what else I've been wrong about, yeah?"

"Let's," you said, your voice light, but your eyes stuck on his.

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[disneyprincemuke]

could've been * fem!driver au

where logan decided to make a move on her after her confession instead of ignoring his feelings and eventually getting over it

notes: I SWEAR THIS IS THE LAST OF THE LOGAN X FEMDRIVER I'M SORRY THEY HAVE CONSUMED MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT

this is a one-off fic im sorry i'll be back to regularly scheduled fem!driver content huhuhuhu

(series masterlist)

-> bahrain, 2023

a knock makes her look up from her phone before the door is pushed open. "logan," she smiles widely, scrambling to get up her beanbag seat as she jumps over to him. "you managed to get away from alex without him asking where you're going?"

"barely," logan answers tiredly. "he's taking on that big brother role very seriously."

she laughs before reaching out to close the door behind him. "you look so pretty," logan grins, arms wrapping around her as she approaches him. "purple is your colour."

"blue has always been yours," she smiles up at him, grabbing the material of his race suit as she pulls him into her, "but do you know where i prefer your race suits?"

logan hums in response, tilting his head as he willingly leans into her. "on the ground," she whispers before their lips meet.

lost in their kiss, they don't even hear the doorknob to her driver's room open. there, oscar and sebastian stand with scowls on their faces as they're greeted by the sight.

"you've got to be more discreet if you don't want anybody finding out about your relationship," oscar scowls, walking into the room as he sips on his water bottle.

"hater," she mutters with a roll of her eyes, pulling away from logan. "god forbid i kiss my boyfriend in the comfort of my own driver's room?"

"we wouldn't be here asking you guys to cut it out if james hadn't asked us to confirm again your involvement with one another as we walked here," sebastian sighs, shaking his head. he looks at his driver, hands on his hips as he shoots her a disapproving look. "you've got to be more careful."

"okay, i'm sorry," she sighs, shrugging her shoulders.

"i don't get it," oscar frowns. "people are clearly okay with you guys being mega best friends or something. why not just tell everyone you're dating?"

"it was already a struggle for me to get into f1. imagine what people would say if they find out i'm shagging another driver?"

"ew, i don't need that picture in my head," oscar sighs, taking a seat on her beanbag. he looks at logan with a scowl. "what are you even doing in her driver's room? don't you have a team to be with?"

logan shrugs with a giddy smile. he leans on the table. "i'm on lunch break. nobody's gonna question me coming to see her - i've been doing that since we were in f4. everyone knows that."

"yeah, but they're not stupid," oscar rolls his eyes, "you guys have been more touchy since f2."

"okay, enough with the debate. we'll be more careful and private," she says, hands in the air to cut the conversation short. "we're new to the sport, anyway. i guess we've really got to watch it if even james is asking."

logan shrugs. "fine, we'll be more careful."

sebastian claps after a moment of silence, before pointing at the door. "alright, gentleman. we've got a team meeting in like 5 minutes," he sighs. "i'm afraid i'll have to chase you away so i can be alone with my driver."

"aw, no goodbye kiss?" logan frowns, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of her as sebastian forces him out of the room.

"no."

"not even a small one?" she teases, pouting her bottom lip out at sebastian as he successfully pushes logan out of the room.

sebastian sighs, closing the door as logan looks in to wave goodbye to her. "kid. you can handle being away from your boyfriend for like 30 minutes."

she smiles, shaking her head. "i know. i was just playing around."

"how you guys manage to hide your relationship for almost 2 years acting the way you do," sebastian mutters, "will always be a mystery to me."

"you'd be surprised how much people buy into the lie that we're just best friends because oscar is always with us," she smiles. "i guess it's kinda absurd to date someone you fight on the track with every other weekend."

sebastian raises an eyebrow. "you've never fought about that? really?"

she presses her lips together, deep in thought. "surprisingly, no. we're actually very good at drawing a line between us and whatever happens when we're in the car."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts

[linkemon]

Start in your head (Yuri Plisetsky x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

"ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴀʟʟᴇᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ." ᴍᴀᴋꜱɪᴍ ᴡᴏɪᴛɪᴜʟ

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ᴘɪʀᴏᴢʜᴋɪ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʀᴜꜱꜱɪᴀɴ ᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀᴄʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2. ꜰᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ́ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴀ ᴘɪʀᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ

[Reader] looked around the rink. She had been coming here for a week in a row and these visits promised to be a new, quite interesting tradition. Partly because she enjoyed teasing Yuri on most occasions and it was an interesting new form of an old game. Whenever the boy saw that she came to stare, he immediately gave her the best kind of taunts. The day before yesterday, he even deliberately extended the training to see if the girl would leave. However, he failed to achieve the intended effect and she returned with him chattering all the way.

— What are you doing here again, you idiot?

— Nice to see you too, Plisetsky. — She grinned so widely that Yuri swore her jaw was about to stretch.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself but deep in his heart he was surprised at her behaviour. Most people hated him from the beginning (or didn't want to be friends with him after some time). He weeded out a lot of those individuals who fit into the two categories because he didn't want to associate with them. Apart from his fans and family, with whom he already had problems, he was left with only a small group of people who wanted to see him and whom he allowed to do so. And she was slowly starting to belong to that group.

— I told you not to come. — He started unlacing his skates.

— Nothing new. — She leaned against the board. — Today we're going to town.

— For what reason? — he huffed.

— They opened a Russian food stand near the park and are selling pirozhki.

This was his weak spot. [Reader] knew well how much Yuri appreciated his grandfather's delicacies.

The boy was aware that the taste probably wouldn't be as good as what he usually ate but the thought of a warm buns after training almost made his mouth water.

— Okay, let's go. — They better be edible, though — he muttered.

The walk to the park consisted mainly of [Reader's] monologue but it was nothing new. Since the ballerina arrived with Lilia Baranovskaya, he managed to say goodbye to silence for long moments.

—... and then I do a pirouette, and she says... — she stopped abruptly. — Wait a second!

The skater was about to comment on how he wouldn't freeze like a fool on the street in sub-zero temperatures when he saw where the girl had turned.

— Who is sweet and charming? Who is? You are!

[Reader] was just lifting an adorable, furry, ginger ball into the air. The kitten snuggled into her shoulder, clearly craving warmth.

At the same time, his second, less trusting companion appeared around the corner and, after sniffing the girl's shoes, he gave up her company in favour of Plistesky.

He looked a bit like Potya, so he started stroking his fluffy head without hesitation. He already missed his pet.

— I don't think they're strays — [Reader] said, examining the collar that should have a contact address on it.

Before she could add anything, a young couple with a child turned from the main street into an alley.

A little girl who was missing several baby teeth stopped shedding tears as soon as she found the kittens. As if on cue, both of them obediently jumped from the teenagers' arms and wandered over to her.

She mumbled a thank you, which her parents told her to repeat, and then disappeared.

— It's a pity. — [Reader] glanced at her now empty hands.

— It's not a pity. They found the owners.

— I know but still... — An unfinished thought hung in the air.

Without any further obstacles, they finally managed to reach the booth. The girl had to admit that it looked quite pretty in the pastel colors of the Russian flag, lit by a row of light bulbs.

While standing in line, she managed to argue with Yuri three times. The customers closest to them looked at them strangely and parents covered their children's ears. And when they reached the ordering stage, she was afraid that the seller simply wouldn't serve the two of them because his murderous look indicated exactly that. However, nothing like that happened and she received her pirozhki.

The girl sniffed it, and then reluctantly bit into her portion.

— Wow, it's sooo good! — She looked at the filling, trying to guess the composition of the it in the dim light of the lamps.

— Tch — he snorted. — My grandfather makes better ones — he said but he ate the rest of his portion.

After this trip, it turned out that it was the first but not the last.

[Reader] liked Russian food so much that she dragged the boy to the booth every day, ordering new delicacies.

The system added a new item to the menu every day and worked quite efficiently. When they were halfway through the list, one fateful afternoon occurred.

It was starting to get dark. The boy's training was almost over and the girl still hadn't shown up at the ice rink. Baranovskaya stood by the board, which never happened at this time. As usual, she was accompanied by a careful look and a frown.

Yuri drove towards her in a fluid movement.

— Was [Reader] here?

The question, short and to the point, required the same type of answer.

— NO.

— If she does show up, tell her to come to me. It's true that she took second place and she can do better but for God's sake! Instant break down? We have to fill out these papers and she disappears right after the competition. — She waved the stack of papers angrily and walked away.

The skater had no desire to return to training. He left the rink, wondering if [Reader] had told him anything about the ballet competition. However, he came to the conclusion that despite letting some information out through the other ear, he would still remember something so important.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself but the ballet mistress's words and tone worried him.

He searched the Internet for recent news. The photo in a recently published article showed the lucky winner of the gold medal. However, it was not [Reader]. He managed to find an amateur video showing the performance of the girl and her competitors.

He called her once but only silence answered on the phone.

With quiet hope in his heart, he decided to go to the park. It was a bull's-eye. It's true that the girl, although she didn't choose their usual bench, didn't really hide. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the frost, and delicate snowflakes settled on her hair. Moreover, she was bathed in the dull light of the park lamps. She would have looked beautiful if the image hadn't been spoiled by her red eyes from crying. [Reader] held the unfinished pirozhki in her hand, her eyes fixed on the dead center. She only broke out of her trance when she saw familiar shoes and their owner a few meters in front of her.

— What are you doing here, idiot? Baranovskaya is looking for you — he huffed.

— Then call her and tell her I'm here — she replied in a flat voice.

Yuri was speechless. The girl had never seemed so emotionless to him.

— I won't handle things for you, call her yourself — he provoked again.

— I'm not going anywhere. — She shrugged. — Nothing will happen if I don't sign these papers. I want to quit.

— What exactly? — He frowned.

— Ballet. — She bit into her food. — I've spent a lot of time here today thinking about it, and I think it's a pretty good idea. No more training and competitions. I will finally be able to return to normal school. Plus, seeing family every day sounds good too. I won't have to spend half my life abroad. By the way, you're a damn hypocrite. You kept saying that I was dragging you here by force and now you came of your own free will.

This was too much for the boy. Her condition, so different from what he had been accustomed to over the past weeks, was getting on his nerves. He couldn't deal with it.

— Have you gone completely crazy? — He asked in the coldest tone [Reader] had ever heard from him.

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and then sat down on the bench next to her.

— I saw both performances online. You may be on a similar level but you are better than her. Just look at your fouetté at the end. Those damn judges must have been blind when they gave you half a point less.

The girl raised her head to look at his face. She had rarely seen him talk about something with such conviction. She was ashamed to admit it but she didn't suspect Yuri of ever being able to give anyone a compliment. For that reason, however, this one had a stronger effect on her than most she had heard about her dancing before.

The Yuri's green eyes seemed sincere. The decision she had made that afternoon now seemed to her like a less than fantastic vision, driven by the impulse of failure.

— I'm grateful but...

— If you think I'm just saying this because I want to comfort you, then...

— That's not what I meant — she quickly denied. — I appreciate what you said but I still need to think about whether I want to enter the next competition. Go back and tell Lilia not to worry.

— But if you do, just know that at the next competition I'm going to sit in the audience and watch you beat the crap out of all of them and...

— Yuri!

The boy rolled his eyes and stood up from the bench. [Reader] did one of the most spontaneous things she had ever done. She ran to him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

— Thank you again — she whispered and returned to her seat.

The Russian smiled to himself, feeling a feeling of warmth spread throughout his body.

That night neither of them could sleep.

[fanfiction-blep]

Hi! Any chance you’d do a Navi miles x reader where they’re both crushing on each other so the rest of the recoms come up with a plan to make him jealous so he’ll make the first move? Maybe like Lyle full on hitting on her or something? Thank you 😊

This is so cute and wholesome. And the first thing that popped into my head was this scene from new girl...

Fuck It~

Warnings: Implied smut, Pining, alcohol, party, plotting. light makeout session.

I was leaning against the far wall of the room. Watching the party ensure from a distance. Recoms and humans alike, mingling, swaying to the music vibrating off the walls. I lifted the red cup to my lips taking a generous swig smirking at Z-dog arm wrestling with Lyle. The booming chorus of jeers and yells almost overwhelming.

"how you doing?" the voice of my colleague taking me by surprise. I looked over to her, shaking my head.

"We're not talking about it"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to talk about my feelings for him" Almost on cue, Miles laughed, his head thrown back as he finally let loose for once. I was glad he needed to let loose once in a while, I don't think I'd seen him relax like this, ever. It just confirmed what I feared most. He hated me.

I've known it for some time not this is why I keep my distance, he was cold around me. Distant, he wouldn't look me in the eyes. He would flinch at my touch and excuse himself at any given opportunity. It hurt, each and every time. Every side eye, every snort at my views or input. It made me smile, just an inch. Before his eyes fell on me, and the smile dropped. And his laugh faded. I instinctively walked away, heading to the kitchen adjacent to the common area where this 'party' was being held. I needed a drink. I poured twice as much alcohol into my cup, I was done. I had to get over this crush. These feelings the longing to have him hold me, to feel him. I had to push through it, because clearly he felt nothing other than disgust for me. Angela joined me in the kitchen, her eyes softening at my irritated state.

"You don't know how he feels" She whispered placing a hand on my shoulder. I snorted at her statement beginning to feel stupid for even having feelings.

"You do?" She smirked at me turning away walking back into the main room only looking at me again to throw a wink over her shoulder.

"Lets play a game" She called, half the room stopping in their tracks to stare at her.

"Oh what are we? teenagers?" Miles shook his head, I couldn't take this any more. I stepped next to Angela and forced a smile.

"I'm in" Miles' head snapped in my direction, I couldn't see his face but Lyle who was in my direct line of sight was smirking making eye contact with Angela. And in that moment I knew I fucked up, this fucker knew and Angela had something to do with it. I kept my cool and tried to play along, I was sure of one thing. No matter what Miles wouldn't be participating. "What we playing"

"Lets mix things up a little, each put a personal item in a bowl whoever's stuff you pick" He paused for dramatic effect "You have to spent some alone time together, whoever's item was picked has to dish out of the bowl next" He leaned behind him pouring a bowl of crisps on the floor and thrusted the bowl in Angela and I's direction. I slipped off my necklace, a delicate gold chain with my initial hanging from the metal. I dropped it in the bowl, Angela dropped a ring. Lyle his dog tag. Another human scientist placed his phone throwing a wink my way, I lowered my gaze and angry blush dusting my cheeks. I saw Miles stand up from the corner of my eye he slipped his own dog tag in the bowl. A few others added their items but I was frozen. A few rounds went by the bowl getting passed around Angela got her turn, Z-dog leading her into the room. I was forced out of my own mind when Lyle called my name. I looked up to see him dangling my necklace between his fingers, he nodded in the direction of the kitchen. Making a quick glance over at Miles before walking over to me draping an arm over my shoulder.

"play along" He whispered low, like he would afraid someone would hear. He ushered me into the room quickly locking the door behind us.

"Lyle, I'm not interested I am so sorry if you have gotten to wrong impression." He let out a low chuckle at my words.

"I ain't tryna put the moves on you. Don't worry, its all a show" He leaned against the counter next to the sink.

"For who?"

"Oh you know" And based on how all this has gone down, I defiantly did.

"He hates me, I don't know why you are trying to torture him."

"Oh this is torturing him alright." I didn't get the opportunity to question him further before loud banging sounded on the door.

"Common you guys"

"It's only been five second, it was just getting good." He said the last five words quieter however who ever was on the other side heard and laughed. Nothing was making sense and I irritated and bored now.

"Let's get my turn over with." I snapped at him, pushing past him and barging out of the room. Everyone's eyes were instantly on me, I felt like a deer in headlights. Miles had his back turned his shoulders tense, Angela look apprehensive she was trying to talk to me with her eyes but the elephant in the room was obvious. Miles didn't want him around me or his friends. His flattened ears and his thrashing tail told me more than I needed to know. I stormed over to the bowl pulling out the first thing that grazed my fingers. I pulled out a dog tag. My heart fell, my throat got tight. I pulled the metal into my palm and read the name. Miles Quaritch. "Shit" I breathed looking and seeing Miles staring at me, his eyes wide. "Lets get this over with" He stands up hands running over his face. I was beyond annoyed at this point. I had never been anything other than nice to this man I had been polite and kind and he treated me like I was a piece of gum on his shoe. So when he leaned against the counter facing the wall opposite him. Not saying a word not a single word.

"Have fun in there love birds."

"Shut it Lyle"

"Idiot" I huffed, Miles huffed and shook his head. "I get that you hate me but you don't have to act like being in here with me is some kind of punishment."

"Punishment? you think this is the punishment?" He turned to me eyes narrow and angry i backed away instinctively, he slowly inched closer to me with every word. "No the punishment was being sat out there knowing Lyle had his hands all over ya" He sneered eventually backing me against the far surface the corners biting into my mid back. They were higher to accommodate the recoms.

"He didn't do anything to me, I told him I wasn't interested in him" Miles was shocked by my words so much so he backed away from me.

"But he said-"

"I don't care what he said" I snapped anger rising in my stomach I had had enough of this man. "You know what?"

"What?" He sighed not looking at me anymore.

"I like you" His eyes met mine widening. "But you hate me, this is the first time you've looked me in the eyes in months, you clearly find me repulsive cus you wont let me touch you and god forbid i talk about you. You run out the room faster than a cat on fire."

"I won't look you in the eyes because seeing them look up at me? reminds me how beautiful you are every time. I won't let you touch me because all it does is make me want to hold you, have your bare skin against mine. I leave when I hear your voice I wanna hear ya scream my name" He had started leaning down his face inching closer and closer to my own. "I wanna hear all the noises that I can get ya to make"

"Miles" I breathed heavily I heard him mutter a low 'Fuck it' before he dove in. His lips capturing my own in a passionate grip. His fingers pushed their way into my hair. His tongue pushing past my lips as he worked against them. He was really good at this, I felt like I couldn't breath His other brushing against my thigh.

"Jump" He mumbled into my lips, I did as I was told. Gasping as he placed me on the counter behind us and standing between my legs his crotch grinding against my own.

"Miles" I whined pushing my hips forward.

"Not here, not like this." He gasped pulling away from me cupping my face in his hands and resting his forehead against my own. "Imma take ya out, then Imma bring you back to my bed. Sound good sweetheart?" I nodded biting my lip. He groaned at the sight and pressed a kiss to my nose. "Good girl"

[yostresswritinggirl]

Pagtingin

"I'll just wait for the wind to sweep away my words."

Scaramouche/Wanderer x Fem!Reader.

Fluff; keeping your feelings secret; glimpses of Wanderer before he got his memories back; classic Scaramouche behavior; feel good story.

Heeey, @monicahar, guess I'm your secret santa uwu you know how much I love angst so know how I tried my very best to make this as fluff and kinda crack as you wished! I have FOUR retakes of this because I'm writing for the Scaramouche master writer (first one got rejected cuz it's quite angsty but I hope you liked it!)

"Mr. Sandman, sand me a saaand," you take a sighing pause, breathing in, and starting again. "Dendro archon, send me a siiiign -"

"What the hell are you singing about?"

"Wanderer!" And there he was in all his glory, arms crossed and stare full of judgment yet stuck to you as you stumbled across the room to reach the windowsill, opening the window to see that - yep, he's floating in mid-air.

The high rising moon behind him framed his ethereal form so beautifully, as if he was a messenger of Celestia ready to take you to the skies above.

You cough to your hand.

His squint lightens, descending to sit on the windowsill so you wouldn't have to crane your neck awkwardly to maintain eye contact.

"There's that Wanderer I know."

The sweet lost foreigner that first stepped foot into Sumeru City with eyes filled with innocent wonder. As a proud citizen and a strange sense of responsibility, you approached the then stranger for an impromptu tour around the humble place, something that he seemed to have needed desperately.

You still remember when he asked about where the sunsettias and harra fruits could be found, in case his employer needed to restock his stall. Of all the beauty that no other nation could compare, he wanted to know where the fruits are.

Safe to say your sudden guffaw had him spooked for a bit, but are you really to blame for how adorable he is for being so new to the world like he is?

It was a nice surprise too when you stumbled upon his fabled stall in the Grand Bazaar one day while he was tending to customers, flustered from the rush hour and his lack of training. Despite not needing it, you willed yourself to buy a watermelon just to talk to him again and give him a better customer service experience.

"Thank you for your purchase - ah, and come again sometime!"

You had to eat watermelon slices for a week because of that impulse buy, but his shy smile was worth the diet change.

But then his overall demeanor changed when you found an anemo vision hanging near his chest, at the same day that he left his merchant work with a blonde traveler. The Wanderer you knew didn't glare like that, talk like that, act like that. It was so quiet between you two, and it felt like he was sizing you up, unsure what to do with you.

"Hey!" His indigo eyes watched you place your hands on your hips with an annoyed huff. "You can't act like this just cuz you got a vision now, getting one doesn't mean you have to change up on me. We're friends still!"

And while his huff and eye roll are baffling to see on your sweet Wanderer, you can't deny his smirk suits him perfectly.

"Look who's the lonely one now." He clicks his tongue, mockingly, yet there were no apparent venom in his words. Back when he asked why you were hanging around him, you told him that he looked lonely too.

("Why are you doing all this? For me? Someone who's -" his Adam's apple bobbed so harshly as he gulped. "A stranger." The way he said those words sounded strangely strained.

"I just thought you looked quite lonely," you settled with no double meanings or deep words those scholars in the Akademiya tend to use. There's no need to beat around the bush with him. Leaning over your stall, you dipped your head under his hat to level his gaze more clearly. "Lonely and a lil confused, like you needed a friend.")

"Yeah, I missed you." He's always seemed like the type of person who wants the blatant truth.

"I -" And his actions had always been honest with you. What with the way he paused and avoided your stare, how he turns his head away and tilt his hat down to hide the expressions he's making. Perhaps your honesty doesn't just come from his preferences. "I suppose that's expected what with you being locked up here for - what? Eight days?"

"Almost nine." Heaving another sigh, your arms hang over the platform as you slump on the spot next to him.

Stuck in your dormitory room because of a flu you caught while out collecting data. While it's not life-threatening for anyone whatsoever, it's still contagious enough for the Akademiya to force you to self isolation until you got better. You haven't had contact with others in days, at least, that's what the Akademiya knows.

Wanderer stares at you with a look that screams out 'why the hell are you looking at me like that?' as you feel a smile force its way to your face, unable to hide it even from him. How could you when the man in front of you, no matter how many times you warned not to get close because of your flu, would only scoff about how ironic it was that you're the one saying those words.

You're thankful that he's confident of his immune system to keep visiting you like this.

He didn't have to visit every day the hour before your assigned bed time, but he's always here on the dot.

Despite the sudden change, Wanderer is still just as easy to read no matter how hard he tries not to be.

"Right, I almost forgot." You watch as he pulled out something wrapped in a beautiful blue furoshiki, the sweet smell already betraying the surprise before he unwraps the baklava for you. "You asked for some yesterday and I didn't want you to whine again."

"Pastries! Oh I love you so much!"

He can remember it so clearly that he could recreate every frame of the scene: The overwhelming feeling in his chest with the tightness in his throat, him opening his mouth before pressing his lips together before the first word could even come out.

Wanderer felt physical pain from the battle in his mind while you happily indulge in the pastry, blissfully unaware of the things you do to him.

Why was he here again after he got his memories back? Why does he keep coming back to this student that showed him around the city when he first arrived?

Lesser Lord Kusanali proposed to keep this connection instead of wallowing in self pity now that the world has forgotten him (that was his own doing), yet it was something that locked him in ball and chain despite having the conscious mind to get away.

Yet the way you immediately turn to him with an amused smile, "Something on your mind?" Easily defeated the clashing virtues debating in his mind. "You want a baklava?"

There was a pained expression on his face as he clutched his hand over his chest, he knows you've seen it no matter how he tried not to look like it. The Wanderer had always been so honest with you that's true, because it was so easy to just be him with you.

But that's not really him, is it?

Puppets like him don't need to breathe.

Yet at that time, perhaps Nahida was right that there really wasn't any difference between a human and a puppet.

"Do you think I deserve a second chance?" He let slip in front of the archon one day when his thoughts raged like the fires of a faraway furnace, too slow to bite his tongue and too frustrated to cover up with a 'forget it.'

Nahida, in contrast, takes time to think things through and watch his body language. From the way he avoids her stare and how his crossed arms looked more defensive of a different insecurity. The god of wisdom doesn't need to read minds to know this is an entirely different case.

"Let's put it this way, what's stopping you from thinking you don't deserve it?" Deserve her, more like.

And his old self would have said nothing, that he deserves everything he desires for all the efforts he had done to get to where he is now. But he's better than that now, no, he's better than that because of you.

Why must he be awkward around you?

Why must he be so hang up on every detail about him and you?

Why must he be so insecure of who he is and who you are?

"Because I'm not human," yet he uttered those words as if he was baffled by his own answer, eyes wide with confusion as he clutched his head. "Yet these days I feel like I'm one."

He practically all but shoved the poor pastry into his mouth, biting down with just a little too much force than intended. Fuck, he hates sweet things!

And so the puppet known as a human does his best to ignore your snickers with how his face contorts into irritation and disgust as the layers melt stickily in his mouth. Oh, he hates you, hates how much he loves you.

He hopes you don't blame him, it's hard to take a gamble with the only chance he's ever getting.

"How's your research going?"

"My proposal is ready, when I'm out of here, I wanna try and get funding to go conduct research in the desert."

"Mhm."

"Then I'll take you with me and tour you there too, I promise the views are worth it!"

"Alright, I'll hold you to it."

So for now, he will keep his peace until he's ready. He only hopes that when he confess his secrets, your opinion of him won't change.

He only hopes... when he reveals his feelings, your opinion of him won't change.

Maybe tomorrow, you'll be his. He can only hope.

This is loosely based on a song called Pagtingin, with English translations here! That's the vibe I'm going for where the singer is hesitating to confess his feelings because he's afraid that the person he loves would treat/see him differently if they don't share the same feelings.

Tagging: @maehemthemisfit @ireallylikehamsters @chuusposts

[nicoleheichou]

Girl Of My Dreams - Chapter 49: Know That Look

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Synopsis: Sakusa was the type to always get things done on his own, but now that he's forced to juggle between his successful pro-volleyball career and being a single dad, what happens when he enrolls his daughter in a new preschool and meets his daughter's new teacher? Will their relationship remain professional or will it evolve into something more?

You were sat at the dining table, having just finished up breakfast along with Sakusa and his family. Kimi let's out a sigh from beside you before leaning back in her chair and patting her tummy with both hands. "Now that hit the spot!" You hear chuckles from around the table, clearly everyone was as enamored with the toddler as you were.

"What are your plans for today, son?" Sakusa's father questions while taking a sip of his tea. You watch as Sakusa just shrugs, an arm coming to wrap around your shoulders. "We're just going to see where the day takes us." His parents nod, satisfied with the answer before his mother starts to clean up, causing you to spring on to your feet to help.

Today you weren't going to give in to her protests, you wanted to help clean up especially since Kiyoomi's sister, Kiyoko, wasn't here to help clear the mess away. "Is there anything you want to do while you're here?" His mother questions as she hands you a plate to dry. You glance towards the entrance of the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Kimi in the living room with her grandpa and dad. Judging from the conversation she'd just convinced her grandfather to read her a story.

You shake your head, a smile forming on your lips as you hear the young girl's giggles. "I just wanted to spend time with them. It didn't matter where." You place the last dish on the drying rack just as his mom finishes putting the rest of the leftovers away. "In that case, why don't we go out? Just the two of us. I think it'd be nice to get to know you better. You've clearly won over my son and grand daughter." You were hesitant to be alone with her, at least here Sakusa and Kimi were just a few feet away, but if you left with her you wouldn't have a buffer and you weren't sure what to do. You just really want her to like you and you're worried if left alone you could mess it up.

"Oh don't worry! I won't bite sweetheart! Plus, we'll have so much fun!" Her smile easily puts you at ease that you can't help but agree. You excuse yourself to get ready which has her just as excited and rushing off to prepare for your day together.

You had just finished the painting class but it seems that she wasn't ready to return home, so you both decided on going to the park across the street to relax and get to know each other better. "Did you know you're only the second girl Kiyoomi has ever brought home?" She says as she sits down on a bench. You weren't expecting her to start the conversation with this interesting tidbit so you were taken aback. "No I didn't. But why am I not surprised to hear that? Omi is serious with his relationships. I've noticed that he's very guarded and decides who he wants to let in." You watch as a smile forms on her lips at your observation of her son.

"He really cares for you. And from what I've seen in the time I've known you, I can confidently say you feel the same way for the both of them. I've never seen Kimi be as attached to anyone else besides her father, but to see the reaction she had at not being able to call you mommy, that's when I knew." You look at her, confusion evident on your face. "Knew what?" She let's out a chuckle before giving a pat on your shoulder.

"That you're good for the both of them and that you're the missing piece to their puzzle that they've been searching years to find. Unlike his ex..." She scoffs, a look of disgust on her face before she continues, "You aren't with him for your personal gain, you're with him because you truly care for him. And I know you do because it's not easy starting a relationship when you know he has Kimi and that they're a packaged deal. Not everyone wants to be with a man who's had a daughter from another relationship. But from what I've heard you'd accepted that fact quite easily."

It's your turn to smile, you know how you feel about the father and daughter duo, but there's just something about hearing someone not directly involved in the relationship describe how you feel. "It's hard not to be enamored with them. Kimi is such an easy child to love, she's so sweet, kind, smart, not to mention the cutest child ever, but I might be a tiny bit biased on that." She lets out a chuckle before nodding her head in agreement.

"And where do I even start with Omi? We started out a little weird, what with me being Kimi's teacher and us having mutual friends, but look at us now. He makes me so happy, I can't imagine him not in my life anymore." You let out a sigh thinking about how you're already missing those two and how you can't wait to get back to them. "I love how they look out for each other. And I'm so thankful they've allowed me to be a part of the little bubble they've created together. They both mean so much to me." You feel your eyes getting a little teary, thoughts about how much you care for them making you emotional.

Her hand comes up to gently rub your shoulder. "I know that look." You rub your eyes trying to get rid of the wetness before giving her a questioning look. "Whenever you speak about my Kiyoomi, you get this look in your eyes. It's the same look I get when I talk about his father. You're in it for the long haul, aren't you?" There's a knowing look in her eyes and you can't help but nod your head, were you really that easy to read?

"Was I that obvious?" You watch as she scoffs before listing all the times she'd caught you staring at her son or pointing out how you almost cry every time Kimi calls you mommy. You bring your hands to your face to hide your embarrassment. "My son and granddaughter deserve to have someone who cares about them and doesn't see them as a means to get what they want. They've been through so much and I know they'd be able to get through anything as long as they have each other, but I also know that's not what they want. I know they've always felt like their unit was incomplete, that a part of them was missing. But ever since you came into their lives, they seem whole. I just want to let you know that I'm so thankful that you decided to give them a chance. It means a lot not only to them but to me as well. I just want them to be happy and you do that for them everyday. So thank you." She says as she pulls you into a tight hug that lasts a few minutes, before she's pulling away, a few tears escaping her as she does so. "It's nothing to thank me for Mrs. Sakusa. I just want them to be happy, I want to see them smile, to hear them laugh, I want nothing but good things for them."

She takes the tissue you offer her then dabs at her eyes, careful not to ruin her makeup. "Please, call me mom. After everything I've seen and heard, I'd be honored to call you my daughter." You feel your eyes begin to well up with tears before you're launching yourself onto her and pulling her into a hug. She lets out a laugh before wrapping you up in her arms. "Thank you." She spends the next hour telling you all about her son and his daughter. Stories you can't wait to bring up to Omi just to watch him squirm in embarrassment.

I thought it would be nice if we got to see mc's day with mama sakusa. Lol.

As usual, let me know what you thought in the comments or thru ask!

Taglist: @taelia15 @dorkange @sexyandcringe @szeonn @natriae @whore-for-anime @diestheticu @loveinhaikyuu @youraggedybitch @mikk-o @erenisms @akisrandom @confusion-lord @aikochan4859 @trashy-simp @somniari-94 @pillboxmb @astrrnmy @all-in-the-fandoms @mattsunnn @kunikame @daninaninani @juniorhooter @crayonwriting @beans-and-jeanes @lvrjjun @sosiegate @grassbutneo @saaraunicorn @lalalemon101 @sunahyejin @sugusshi @roselleviennesstuff @queen-aria-things @hello0i @oopskashish @wolffmaiden @shakesqueer444 @julia-1901 @blkladyelle @marinarihearts @oikawas-toris @carlgrimm @zekeslefttit @rory-cakes @nomnom21 @noayuusukki @yukimaniac @the-jester-calamity @everytimeswift

[gizm0-gadgetz]

Time for another random old fic i wrote.

Don't reallt remember when I wrote this but its a tma fic around an oc with a half asked mention of the mechs band before I properly understood it

Still silly so figured I'd share it. Archives crew plus oc go out for drinks basically

Charecrwrs name is Giz (its a nickname) and they're an intern/currier for the magnus Institute

   Giz hummed softly as they moved a box into the archives. Fresh statements they presumed, though maybe it was office supplies? It didn't matter to them, it wasn't their job to snoop. They noticed that the crew seemed to be having a conversation of some sort. It looked quite fun. A pang of loneliness hit their heart like a truck, they kept moving though. Just do your job and get paid. Then look into new information. That's all you're here for. It felt so stupid that they had to remind themself so often. 

   “Hey kid!” They startled out of their trance and looked over to the group. It was Tim. They hesitated but pulled a headset ear off. “It's Giz right? Cmere!” He waves them over. It took them a moment to process what he said but slowly they just gestured at the box in their hands. “Ah don't worry about it. Just set it down. I'll take care of it later.” He had a very welcoming voice. They sighed softly and set the box down, just out of the way so nobody would trip. They paused their music and took the headset off properly before slowly walking over. 

   “Is something wrong?” Their voice cracked slightly, an annoying tell for how nervous they were. Tim just chuckled.

   “No no, nothings wrong. We're going to a pub for drinks tonight, do you wanna join us?” They blinked a few times, staring at Tim like he had spoken in another language they didn't know. 

    “I'm sorry…” They noticed his expression fall. Had he been hoping they'd join him? Why would he want that? They weren't exactly good company. “I uhm…” They began fidgeting with their headphone cord. “I've never been drinking. I don't think I'd be muc-” 

   “Woah woah what! Hold on,” Tim interrupted them, seemingly shocked. “You've never been out for drinks?” Words seemed to fail them at that moment so they just nodded their head. They noticed that both Sasha and Martin, who he had been talking with before, had surprised expressions too. Had they said something wrong? “How old are you again?” Tim spoke with a tilt of his head, clearly curious. 

   “I uh… I'm 19.” They shrugged and looked away from the group. They felt so judged. 

   “So you're old enough.” Martin chimed in. They couldn't help turning to look at him shocked. “You should come with.” He smiled warmly. These people were far too nice, what if something happened? 

   “Tim's paying-!” Sasha added to try and persuade them. They glanced at Tim who just nodded. 

   “I… i just- wouldn't want to intrude on…your friendship and…stuff.” They felt so painfully awkward, mentally cursing themself for being like this. 

   “Nah, that's why we're inviting you!” Tim grinned. “You seem really cool, you just gotta come outta your shell!” 

   “I… how do you even know???” They couldn't hide the confusion in their voice. 

   “Martin was the same way.” Tim shrugged, gesturing to the man beside him whose face turned red. “So cmon, you wanna join us?” 

   “I…” He was really dedicated. They didn't know how to react. “What time?” 

   “10 or so.” He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. 

   “I…fine.” They watched his expression light up. “I'll try.” They shrugged, trying to be more casual about it. Trying very hard to hide their nervousness. 

   “Cool! Can I get your number then?” 

   “Huh?” The request took them by surprise. 

   

    “Yknow, so I can tell you where to go!” Tim laughed at their surprise and they felt their face heat up in embarrassment. It only got worse when they heard the other two chuckle softly. 

    “Right uhm… lemme look.” They hoped he wouldn't question why they don't have their own number memorized as they pulled their phone out. 

   “Here, why don't I just put mine in yours?” Tim offered, “Then I can put you in a group chat with us.” He had such a bright smile, it kind of confused them how nice he was being. 

   “I guess that works..” It took a lot more effort to hand their phone over. If he noticed he said nothing as he put his phone number in. They watched as he took a photo. He was just making a contact at this point which struck them as a little odd but they were too shy to actually say anything. He handed the phone back with a smile. 

   “There you go!” They looked at the phone to see he had sent a text message to his own number, just a peace sign emoji. They also noticed he hadn't saved his name as Tim but as “Tim from the Dungeon” with another peace sign emoji. They couldn't help but chuckle softly as they put their phone back in their pocket. “Do you mind if I take a picture?” They blinked a few times and looked up, Tim was holding his phone and had the contacts page open. 

   “Oh uhm…I'm not very photogenic…” They didn't want to outright say no, it felt too rude for how kind he was being. 

   “That's fine.” He shrugged and saved the contact. “Maybe later.” He looks at the time before turning his phone off. “Well, work day’s almost over. We should wrap up and all that jazz.” 

   “Oh yeah!” Martin seemed surprised, like he had forgotten they were still at work. “I'll see you guys later then!” He smiled and walked off, presumably to go finish whatever he had been doing prior. 

   “I do hope you'll join us Giz.” Sasha smiled at them. It wasn't as bright of a smile as Tim, but it was still much nicer than they thought they deserved. They smiled weakly back. “Tim, you better pick someplace good.” She huffed softly before walking off the other direction, leaving them alone with Tim. 

   “So…yeah. I'll text you once we have it figured out where we're going.” He hadn't stopped smiling since they'd started talking. “Oh and don't worry about that box either,” They paused and glanced back at the box from before. They kinda forgot about that. “I'll take care of it. I mean it. See you later?” 

   “Yeah… seeya…” They took a deep breath and walked off, heading back upstairs to go collect their things, and their thoughts. So much had just happened and they weren't sure how to feel. What had they just agreed to? This wasn't like them at all. Maybe they could just tell them that they couldn't make it? It left a pit in their stomach, the idea of lying to people who were being so nice. There was a lot going through their head as they put their jacket on and began walking home. 

■□■□■□■

   They set their bag down and collapsed into bed, not even bothering to take their shoes off. They wanted to cry. Emotions were so freaking hard and they felt so bad just accepting when they probably wouldn't go. If they didn't go then at least there was no worry about getting them hurt, at least not physically. They couldn't promise any emotional damage. Why couldn't they just be some normal teenager who would jump at the idea of free drinks. 

   They weren't sure how long they laid there in emotional hell but eventually their phone went off. They rolled over and pulled their phone out from their pocket, staring at the text message notification. They opened the chat but didn't actually type anything, just watching everyone talk. It wasn't clear which number belonged to who since they didn't have the other twos numbers saved. They felt so out of place in this chat so even when they did start typing they didn't actually send anything. Tim sent the address and the others agreed. They looked at the time. 9:30 already. Half an hour until they were supposed to meet up. It was another 10 minutes before they managed to crawl out of bed to change into something else. They didn't necessarily need to change but they felt the need to. 

   They decided to shower before they changed, still debating if they were going to go at all. It was all so conflicting but the hot water did help them clear their mind. It took a while to find some clothes not covered in paint stains but eventually they settled on a long sleeved sweater. Some old band on it, they weren't sure which as the logo had since faded. They did make out the year though, ‘92. It must've been one of their moms old shirts. They sighed and tied their hair back, taking another glance at the time. It was already 10. They were late. Maybe it would be a good idea to let them know that they'd be late but they decided against it. 

   They picked up their bag and hesitated. Maybe bringing the bag with was a bit much? They frowned slightly before pulling the pocket watch out from the bag and slipping it in their back pocket. They grabbed their phone and keys before slipping on a jacket and finally heading outside. They only realized as they left the apartment that they had neglected to grab a hat but they were already running late. Besides, if they turned around they probably wouldn't leave again. Taking a deep breath they began walking, pulling up a map on their phone and heading to the address Tim had sent. 

    It was a nice looking building, a nice warm light filtered out of the windows. The atmosphere seemed very welcoming and they figured that's why the others had picked this place. As they got closer they noticed a familiar face leaning against the wall with a cigarette. He seemed lost in his thoughts as they approached.

   “Mr. Simms?” If they needed any confirmation of his zone out the way he jumped was proof enough. He was wearing a faded green sweater and dress pants. It was the most casual thing they'd ever seen him in, though it made sense. He probably just dressed professionally for work. “I didn't know you smoked.” They watched as he put the cigarette out and left it in an ashtray. 

   “...good evening.” He seemed a bit confused to see them there and they didn't blame him. They weren't sure why he was there either. “Are you meeting with someone?” He raised an eyebrow, looking them over as he spoke. It must've been obvious they had changed for this. 

   “Uhm…kind of. Tim invited me to go drinking… I'm a little late…” They noticed his confused expression and quickly looked away. 

   “He didn't tell me that.” They couldn't help but blink a few times in confusion, glancing back at him. “They're inside. Waiting for food.” He shrugged. “Figured I'd take the chance for a smoke break…” He trailed off, awkward silence filled the air. “Right. Guess you should come in with me.” He didn't look at them as he brushed himself off and opened the door and held it for them. 

   “Oh..uhm…thanks.” They nodded at him with a slight smile before stepping inside. Imminently they regretted having not brought any headphones or sunglasses for that matter. That hat would've been really nice to have. Jon pushed ahead of them and walked to a table in the corner. It took them a moment to get moving and follow him. Tim, Sasha and Martin were sitting at a booth having a conversation. Jon sat down without a word, rolling his eyes when Martin welcomed him back. They took a deep shaky breath as they approached the table, worried about interrupting. “..sorry I'm late…” The conversation ceased almost immediately and the trio turned to look at them. They felt panic rise slightly before Tim spoke up. 

   “There you are! I was worried you got cold feet! C'mon man, have a seat!” He pat the seat next to him. They hesitated for a moment before sitting down. “Loose track of time?” He hummed softly, leaning back casually. 

    “I uh… took a wrong turn walking here.” They shrugged, pulling their jacket closed. It was warm in the building but it made them feel safer. Tim seemed confused. 

   “You walked here?” 

   “Yeah i…don't have a car…” They shrugged, fidgeting with the coat zipper. 

   “Why didn't you tell us? I'm sure someone could've picked you up. It's cold out this late, not to mention dark. You shouldn't be going out alone.” The genuine concern in his voice confused them. Why was he so worried?

   “I wouldn't have had any problem picking you up.” Martin's voice was soft and so was his smile. They shifted slightly in their seat. “But I get it if you want to keep your privacy.” They glanced at Jon who seemed to just be sulking in the corner of the booth. Tim must've picked up on it too. 

   “Jon, Jonny boy, dude-” Jon looked up with a slight glare. “Lighten up. You used to be so much more fun dude.” He laughed as he leaned forward. 

   “Did you two know each other?” Martin was clearly confused and they were glad he spoke up cause they were curious themself. 

   “Oh yeah absolutely! Went to the same college.” He spoke as if it was super obvious. “Fun times.” 

   “Oooh! Have any fun college stories?” Sasha snickered. 

    “Oh yeah tons-” 

   “Don't you dare.” Jon interrupted both of them. 

   “Aww man you're no fun.” Sasha huffed softly but was willing to move on, tim however clearly wasn't. 

   “Yeah? What are you gonna do? Fire me?” He snickered and leaned back again. It was all so casual. Giz felt a bit out of place in the conversation but it was amusing to watch. “Did you guys know Jon was in a band?” Jon tensed up before trying to hide himself half under the table. 

   “Jon can play an instrument?” Martin stared at Tim with disbelief. 

 

    “I mean yeah but thats not what he did.” He shrugged. 

    “Tim-” Jon had a warning tone that the man chose to ignore. 

    “No, Jon was the lead singer. Technically the band was his.” Tim hummed softly, quite happy with the chaos he was causing. 

   “No way-” Sasha gasped and looked at Jon who was doing well at pretending to be part of the booth. 

   “Introvert Magee was the leader of a band?” Giz couldn't help piping in, immediately regretting their choice of words when everyone looked at them. “Sorry I-” 

   “Yeah it's surprising isn't it?” Tim brushed it off with a laugh. “My man used to be so confident! Now look at him!” He cackled as jon balled up a napkin and chucked it at him. 

   “You-” Jon started but they were interrupted when a waiter came and set some appetizers down. Giz was a bit surprised by the amount of food and variety. They had forgotten that Jon mentioned them waiting for food. They hesitated on taking any, it felt quite rude since they weren't there when the order was placed.  

   “What kind of drinks do you guys want?” Tim hummed as he grabbed a soft pretzel to nom on. “I'm gonna get some scotch. Dunno what kind yet.” He paused, seemingly thinking for a moment. “Giz you said you've never had any drinks right?” 

   “Not legally, no.” They shrugged, ignoring jons confused expression. 

   “Legally? You sneaking alcohol?” Sasha sounded impressed. 

   “No no… nothing that interesting.” They chuckled weakly. “My mom would drink the occasional Jack & Coke. I think that's what it was called at least. Regardless she left it out once and I thought it was pop.” They shrugged again. 

   “Right then. I'm gonna get you a few things then! See what kind of thing you're up for.” Tim grinned, more excited than they were for their first proper drink.  

   “I wouldn't want you to waste-” They started but he scoffed and brushed it off.  

   “Don't worry. It'll be fine. If you don't like them ill drink it.” He shrugged, finishing his pretzel. “You can have some appetizers by the way.” He smiled warmly. “I ordered them for everyone to share after all.” They felt their face heat up a bit, embarrassed that he had picked up on their hesitation. They began to zone out slightly as Tim talked with the others about what drinks they wanted. The whole thing felt so domestic. It was really odd for them. They hadn't even been working for the institute all that long and they certainly hadn't had any prior relationships with anyone there yet they still had been invited to such a close gathering. It was all so…different than anything else they had been to. 

   The atmosphere was comforting, loud but comforting. It was overall a very nice place to be, even if they felt a little out of place. They finally started to relax. Eventually Tim elbowed them and they snapped back to reality, clearly confused. Tim chuckled softly. 

   “I wanted to ask if you were allergic to anything? Just in case yknow.” 

   “Oh. No.. I mean yes but I don't think there's gonna be any fish inside alcohol.” Tim blinks a few times before nodding. 

   “Probably not no. Thanks for the heads up though.” He smiled warmly before ordering drinks for everyone. It was a decently long list for just the five of them and they couldn't help but worry about what he was up to. The bar had calmed down a bit, people all just minding their own business with their drinks. They nibbled on a pretzel as Tim spoke with the waiter. They noticed Jon tapping his hands against the table with the beat of the music playing. It was a small detail that they didn't think anyone else picked up on. They shifted awkwardly in their seat. 

   “Giz?” Martin's voice cut through their thoughts. They looked up at him with a slight hum. “Are you alright over there? You've been pretty quiet the whole time.” His tone is gentle and concerned. 

   “Oh uhm…not much of a talker is all.” They shrugged and stared at the food on the table. Eye contact was hard. “Happy to just listen.” They hoped he wouldn't pry much into it. 

   “That's okay. I get it.” He smiled warmly. They all had such warm smiles, except maybe Jon. They weren't sure they'd properly seen the man smile. He seemed so grumpy all the time. Maybe drinks would help? People talk about alcohol bringing out something in you. They weren't sure. 

   “Do you have any hobbies, giz?” Sasha hummed softly as she turned her attention to them. “You've been a really hard worker. Don't think I've ever seen you really take a break.” They blink a few times, processing the request. 

   “Oh. I…am an artist?” They smiled meekly before shrugging. “It's just a casual thing. A small hobby to keep me sane. Wouldn't say I'm any good at it.” 

   “I'm sure you're great!” Martin grinned. “If you create with the same precision you have at work I'm sure you do amazing things.” He seemed confident in this assessment and they couldn't help but smile a little. 

   “Thanks… maybe I'll show you guys sometime. I don't have anything on me is all.” That was a lie, they had plenty of photos on their phone but it didn't feel right to just…show off. “What about you guys?” They weren't very good at coming up with their own questions but they could reuse the ones the others ask. 

    “I've done some knitting.” Martin hummed softly, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. “Occasional poetry…” His face was a little red like he was embarrassed by his own hobbies. 

   “Dance.” Tim interjected, causing everyone to look at him. 

    “No way.” Sasha stared at him like he was crazy. “You're lying.” There was a slight teasing tone to her voice. 

   “Yes way! What's so hard to believe about that?” Tim joked as if he was offended. 

   “I mean look at you!” Sasha gestured at all of him with a laugh. “You own twenty pairs of Hawaiian shirts!” 

   “I fail to see how that makes it less believable?” Giz pointed out. “If anything, that's just in his favor.” 

   “Heeeeey what's that supposed to mean-” Tim looked at them and they just shrugged with a smirk, causing Sasha to snicker. 

   “What about you sasha?” Giz spoke softly, pulling the conversation back to the topic of hobbies.

    “I haven't played in a while but I used to really like volleyball.” She hummed softly then turned her attention to Jon who had returned to sulking. “What about you jon, do you do anything out of work?” There was a teasing tone to her voice. 

   “Nah man hes totally married to the job. All he thinks about.” Tim pointed out with a smirk. 

   “Surely you have some hobbies?” Martin looked at Jon with a tilt of his head. Jon just glared at him, opening his mouth to say something when they were interrupted by drinks being set down.

   “Saved by the bell once again huh jonny?” Tim snickered as he grabbed his drink and then set a few in front of Giz. They stared at the drinks, barely registering Sasha's comment on Jons fruity cocktail. “Don't be shy!” He elbowed Giz with a grin.  They chuckled weakly as they grabbed one of the drinks, beer presumably considering the rich golden color and slight fizz. They paused before drinking it, making a face at the smell. They heard Tim cackle next to them, presumably at their reaction. It made them smile a little. 

   “You're more excited then I am…” They chuckled weakly as they slowly took a sip, processing the flavor. It was a very heavy drink but knowing how beer was made they weren't that surprised. It was a bit roasted tasting, probably just whatever brand they had on tap. 

   “Hey it's not everyday you get to buy someone their first drink!” Tim hummed, sipping his own drink. It seemed to just be plain scotch. “Besides, everyone reacts differently to things and it's pretty fun to watch.” He shrugged and grabbed a few fries from one of the appetizer plates. 

    “If you say so.” They shrugged and turned their attention back to the beer. They could see the appeal but it definitely wasn't a drink for them. Too heavy for their liking. They set the glass down after a few more sips. Tim looked at them expectedly and they just shrugged again. “Its fine…it doesn't feel all that special. Very heavy stuff.” 

   “Yeah that's reasonable.” Tim leaned forward against the table, happy to talk with Giz more one on one as the others did their own thing. “Don't make yourself drink it, might fill yourself up.” He hummed softly, tapping his fingers against the table in no real pattern. 

   “This looks like a cup of fruit juice.” They mused as they picked up the next cup, a tall peach colored drink. It smelled nice enough, definitely a different type of alcohol. They could see Tim's smirk out of the corner of their eye. “What?” They hesitated on taking a sip. 

   “Oh nothing. Just a fun name for a cocktail.” He snickered as he sipped his scotch. 

   “How so?” They raised an eyebrow and looked at him. 

   “Its called Sex on the Beach.” He snickered more and they couldn't help but roll their eyes. How mature. They hesitated for a moment.

   “The only sex i'll put up with.” They shrugged and took a sip. Their voice had been quiet enough so only their table would hear the joke. Tim looked amazed that they would make that joke and they heard someone choke on their drink. They glanced up to see Jon staring at them with a bewildered look. Martin's face was a little red but he was chuckling at the joke and Sasha was just as amazed as Tim. They smirked slightly before focusing on the drink. It was just as fruity as it had smelt and significantly lighter then the beer had been. Almost refreshing really. They drank about half of it before Tim finally spoke up again.

    “I didn't think you had it in you for that kind of joke!” He laughed and elbowed them slightly. “I'm proud!” They rolled their eyes with a slight chuckle. They felt a lot more…content with what was happening. A lot calmer than they had been before. Was it the drinks? They weren't sure. They set the cocktail down, it was good but there were still a few other things to try. They'd probably come back and finish it though. They took a moment to eat another pretzel, cleansing their pallette almost. The soft pretzels were really good. Drinks were fine and all but the food was amazing. There wasn't anything that compared to pub food. 

   They felt kinda tired. Usually they'd have gone to bed by now though they weren't sure exactly what time it was. The alcohol in their system wasn't helping as their body wasn't used to the energy required to process it. They decided to ignore it and continue anyway, picking up a short glass with an amber colored liquid in it. This one smelt familiar and they imminently recognized it as whiskey. It was spiced and coated their mouth with a flavor hard to describe. They hummed softly as they drank up. They heard Tim join the conversation the others were having but they didn't quite process what he was saying. Everything felt a little fuzzy, good but fuzzy.

   The rest of the night was starting to blur together. It was a good time and they found themself talking with the others much more, but they weren't a hundred percent sure what they were talking about. It was pretty late by the time everyone was ready to go home and they weren't sure they would be able to walk home. Martin offered to drive them home to make sure they would make it home safe and they found themselves agreeing to it; even if originally they hadn't wanted to share where they lived. 

   Their head was swimming by the time they got back to their apartment. Martin was nice enough to walk them up to their flat, joking about them collapsing in the hall if he didn't. It wasn't obvious that Martin had been drinking at all because he seemed quite calm. Giz thanked him for his help multiple times by the time they were finally home. 

   They faintly remember getting a glass of water that they proceeded to spill all over the counter before collapsing in bed and quite quickly passing out. They were so drained but quite glad they had gone out. They didn't wake until noon the next day and didn't feel ready to go to work until the day after. They liked these people. They were fun to be around. Maybe it was worth finally making some relationships. 

[turtlebra1nrot]

Third Time's A Charm

Johnathon Ohnn (I/ATSV) x You

The first three times you met up with Johnathon for your project, they were more than pleasant. The fourth time was complete and sudden hell. And the fifth was, unexpectedly, nothing short of libidinous.

CHAPTER 1/6: PARTNERS...

A choir of groans and sighs filled the lecture hall after the professor's thoroughly voiced announcement of their new project having to be done in pairs.

"Yeah, moan and whine all you want. You're adults. You're gonna have human interaction anyway, suck it up." The professor responded sluggishly to the class's verbal distaste. You didn't particularly mind, however. In fact you'd hoped for this. Work had been piled up for you lately and you thought maybe having someone to help with a major assignment might do you some good.

Partners were selected by surname. The professor went down the roster while roving leisurely around the lecture hall at the same time. They came to a stop at the left side of the table where you were seated, looking at them expectantly. "You're withhhh— oh." The professor's tone was still laced with boredom but a hint of bewilderment seemed to weasel its way in. A few mutters left their parted lips. "...only one left? I'm sure I called of you..." their last string of words found your ear.

After more awkward silence from the class and professor, their eyes lit up. "Ah, I missed one. You." They call, swiveling at 180 degrees to lock eyes with someone else. A messy tuft of brown hair pulled into a low-ponytail shifted a bit in your field of vision. Then a pair of squared glasses and brown, doe eyes followed. "Ohnn. You're with them, alright? Alright." The professor then simply walks back to their desk at the front of the hall just as the intercom goes off, signifying the end of the class. Students exchange numbers, emails, socials — while you watch your own partner from afar.

You knew it'd be courteous to get up on your own two feet and go introduce yourself. But you waited to see if the guy'd come to you.

He didn't.

Ohnn sat there, head practically buried in his notes. You wouldn't be surprised if he was actually making out with that damn paper. But it was clear he wouldn't come to greet you any time soon. So with a twinge of exasperation, you huff — pushing yourself up from your seat — and walk over to the table in the third row while leaning your palms against its smooth oak wood.

"Hey." You spoke up. He nearly flew with the way he jumped back in surprise. Jesus, he's tense.

His brown eyes seem to almost bulge out of his head as he eyes you with shock, glasses slipping down the bridge of his straight nose unnoticeably. Despite the initial shock of his flinch, he attempted to gather a few words. Though he stumbled over his own tongue, "Wh- I — d-did you....need something?" Ohnn murmurs. It's like he wasn't used to being acknowledged or something. You let a smile fall upon your lips and stifle a chuckle, "Looks like we're partners, Ohnn."

The look on the guy's face voiced pure confusion but he did not protest. He was quiet again before shutting his college-rule notebook, "Looks like it..." he uttered feebly while seeming to give you a once-over. Johnathon could feel your eyes studying him as well in the silence and he hated it. He hadn't really been paying all that much attention during the lecture, so he unfortunately gained a partner who he hardly knew. As if he knew anyone other than his own family in the first place. The young man stood from his seat and that was when you could read him more clearly.

Johnathon seemed to fold in on himself as he stood. Arms tightly pressed to his sides, legs together, posture extremely informal, etc. Even with his stature he was like a frail dog, unable to hold eye contact for too long and keeping himself at a low profile. He seemed to make himself appear small. It made you feel kind of bad. No wonder he was so tense...

"You want my number? I'll text you my dorm and we can get started whenever, no pressure." It was like a bid with him. Convincing him to visit your place so you could both work. You could easily tell he might feel unease at the idea, so you kept it plain and simple for him. Johnathon steadily breathed in spite of his racing heart. He wasn't good with making plans with others because he'd get sidetracked and forget about them. He'd feel terrible to do that for a first impression. "Yeah, we could do that...if you'd like, that is. I don't wanna like, force you to do it o-or whatever—" "Dude. I offered. No need to worry." You try to reassure him with words and a smile. A croaky laugh left his lips as he realized he had been on the verge of an apologetic ramble, "Right. Sorry."

"You're good, Ohnn." You reaffirm your previous words. Johnathon nods whilst bending down to grasp the handle of his tote-bag, stuffing his notes carelessly inside. Once up straight (or as straight as he normally stood), he speaks again, "Hey, I don't mind being called Johnathon or John. I think Ohnn's a little formal since we're, y'know— partners?"

Johnathon looks down at the person before him with careful eyes, trying to gauge their reaction. He hoped that statement wasn't too forward. He never really knew when to keep things casual or professional so he always just assumed. God, what if that was too much for them? Did he really have to say that? Maybe they could just call him Ohnn, it's not a big deal—

"Sure thing."

Your response was simple. He hadn't gotten the stink eye like he'd thought he would. Johnathon's smile is sheepish when he clears his throat and hesitantly nods. He didn't always have conversations longer than 20 seconds. Talking with you had been a breath of fresh air for him and he couldn't tell if the churning in his belly was excitement, anxiety, or joy.

He exchanged numbers with you before departing from the lecture hall and moving onto his next class. He had a math exam that period and with the boost of morale from last period, he felt somewhat prepared.

[the-badger-mole]

AU Bot Plots: Across a Crowded Emergency Room

Katara's leg bounced up and down in agitation. She blew air out through her clenched teeth and glanced at the clock. As popular as Aang was, she couldn't figure out why she was still his emergency contact, seven months after they broke up, but when she got the call, she didn't have the heart to ignore it. A compassionate choice she was beginning to regret as the clock marked the end of her fourth hour sitting in the emergency room. A nurse walked out from the triage room and looked down at her clipboard. Katara leaned forward, anxious to hear Aang's name called.

"Sosoro," the nurse called. "Sosoro, Jun." Katara slumped back in her seat with a groan as a woman with her arm clumsily wrapped in a bloody bath towel sauntered forward.

"Sorry," Aang said, looking at her shamefacedly. Well, as much as he could look at her with his neck in a brace.

"Aren't they supposed to take head and neck injuries more seriously?" Katara grumbled.

"Well...I guess since I wasn't unconscious this time they don't consider it an emergency, emergency," Aang suggested with a shrug. "And the brace is more of a precaution, since I can move my neck."

"Then why am I here?" Katara asked. "Why did you have them call me?"

"I didn't want to ride in the ambulance," Aang explained sheepishly. "My insurance wouldn't cover it."

"Okay, fine," Katara huffed. "But you're here now. You don't need me anymore, right?" Aang looked stricken, and fixed her with the kicked puppy look that used to make it impossible for her to tell him no, even when she really wanted to.

"You'd leave me here all by myself?" he asked, sounding on the verge of tears. "You know I hate hospitals. And how will I get home? It's too late to call someone else!"

"I will pay for a cab," Katara promised. "It's late, and I'm tired and I have a test to study for."

"But I don't want to sit here alone," Aang insisted. "Please, Katara? I know we're not dating anymore, but you're still one of my closest friends. Please don't leave me." Katara was torn between aggravation and pity. For a moment, she thought the aggravation would win out, but then Aang always did have a gift for tugging just the right string.

"If they don't call you back in an hour, you're on your own," she muttered, crossing her arms. Aang beamed at her. This was her own fault, Katara reflected, as she rubbed her tired eyes. She was old enough to know better than to stay friends with her exes.

A commotion at the entrance of the hospital pulled Katara out of her doze. Two men, one younger, one older, stumbled in, clinging to each other. At first, Katara thought they were there for the younger guy. There was a large, angry looking burn on his face, but a moment later, Katara saw the older man's puffy face. His eyes were nearly swollen shut, and his lips were several times larger than they should've ben. The burn on the younger man's face was scarred over, and several years old, Katara guessed. At any rate, it didn't seem to be giving him any discomfort at the moment. He and the older man stumbled up towards the reception area, where already, the nurses were scrambling to help them.

"I'm fine, Nephew," the older man said through his swollen lips. "My throat hasn't closed."

"You're not fine," the young man, Nephew, snapped. "You look like you tried to beat someone with your face. I told you to stop trying to brew tea from random plants you found in the park."

"The white jade and the white dragon flowers look so similar!" the old man lamented. Nephew threw his arms out to his sides and let his head roll backwards, as if he was silently pleading with some higher being for patience. Then he helped his uncle into the wheelchair an orderly had brought for him. After hearing how gruff he'd been with the old man, Katara was surprised to see how gentle Nephew was with him.

Of course the old man was rushed back immediately. Katara wasn't annoyed at that. It was clearly an emergency, even if he insisted that his throat wasn't closing. Nephew started to follow the team back, but was barred by a nurse.

"You'll have to wait here," she said sternly.

"What? That's my uncle! Why can't I go back with him?" Nephew sounded angry. Looked it too, but the nurse was unmoved. He would have to sit in the waiting area until the doctor's exam was over. Nephew seemed to be ready to fight some more, but the nurse just turned and walked back into the triage area. Nephew accepted his defeat gracelessly and flopped down on a chair across from Katara and Aang. The door opened again, and Nephew looked up anxiously, as if expecting someone to let him back with his uncle after all. Instead the nurse looked down at her clipboard.

"Namkha," she called. "Namkha, Aang."

"That's me!" Aang announced, jumping to his feet. Katara noticed the spring in his step with annoyance. If she'd sat in this emergency room for nearly five hours for nothing to be wrong with him...

Katara sighed and settled back into her seat. There was no use dwelling on it now. She just had to get through this bizarre night, and then she can tell Aang she needed a break from their friendship. Someone else could take over saving him from his own shenanigans. And this time, she would stick to her guns, puppy eyes or no.

Across from her, Nephew gazed aimlessly around the waiting room. He was chewing gum, and popping it occasionally, which is what drew Katara's eye to him. He was handsome, she thought, detachedly. The scar didn't detract at all from his chiseled jawline, or his full lips, now busy blowing another bubble. He was wearing a dark colored jacket that hid his arms and chest, but the squareness of his shoulders suggested someone who knew his way around the gym. He didn't seem to be much older than Katara, either. Maybe a year or two, if that. The bubble he had been working on popped and he saw Katara staring. He raised a brow, but Katara was too tired to be embarrassed. She gestured vaguely towards his mouth.

"Did you bring enough to share?" she asked. Nephew sat for a moment, seeming to size Katara up. Finally, he reached into his jacket pocket and passed her a crumpled packet of gum. There was only one stick left inside of it. Katara was about to protest taking his last piece, but he just held his hand up.

"It's fine," he said. "Help yourself." Katara accepted it with a thanks.

"Was he alright?" Katara asked, hooking her thumb towards the triage doors. Nephew sighed and rolled his eyes, but he looked at the doors with more than a hint of worry.

"My uncle is obsessed with tea," he told Katara. "He likes to forage in the park because, according to him there are a lot of edible plants that make great tea."

"He picked the wrong one, this time?" Katara concluded. She shook her head sympathetically.

"I'll say," Nephew snorted. "He's just lucky I was working tonight."

"Working?" Katara asked.

"He owns a tea shop," Nephew said, with a half shrug. "I help out sometimes, and tonight I had the closing shift."

"That's nice." Katara wasn't sure what else to say, but that seemed to be the right thing. Nephew shrugged again.

"It's easy work, anyway," he said. "He let's me work around my school schedule." Katara nodded. That was interesting information. There were only two schools in the area, so they might go to the same one. Katara wondered if their paths had ever crossed before. But she thought she might have remembered meeting him.

"What's your boyfriend in for?" Nephew asked.

"He's not my boyfriend," Katara said firmly. "And he's in because he can't stop himself sometimes. There was nest of abandoned owlets in a tree on campus, and he climbed up to try to rescue them. Only, mama owl came back and knocked him out of the tree."

"Ouch!" Nephew winced. "Is he okay?"

"Fine enough that the doctor kept us waiting here for four and a half hours," Katara huffed.

"Yikes." Nephew shook his head. "You must be exhausted."

"Like you wouldn't believe," Katara groaned. "And I have a test tomorrow. All I want is some coffee." Nephew gestured towards the other end of the waiting room.

"There's a kiosk in the main lobby," he said. "They're probably still open." Katara groaned miserably.

"I was in a rush to get my friend here," she explained. "I left my wallet at home." Nephew shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. He seemed nervous.

"Well...I could go for some coffee myself," he said. "I've got my wallet on me. I could treat you." Katara hesitated. Nephew's shoulders had bunched up to at his ears and his dark hair fell into his eyes. It was cute, Katara thought, how self-conscious he was. He must have women throwing themselves at him, but buying one coffee at a kiosk had him blushing. Finally, Katara smiled and nodded.

"That sounds great," she said. "Thank you so much!"

"No problem," Nephew mumbled. He was smiling slightly, though.

"I'm Katara by the way." She grinned at him. "I figure you ought to know my name if you're buying me coffee." Nephew shot her a half-smile. Already, she found it endearing.

"Zuko," he introduced himself.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

prompt: cleganmarge

buck is a pretty reserved person, but the longer he knows bucky and marge, he becomes more comfortable with himself and expressing his feelings

[Okay, this isn't a full look at this idea, which is lovely. But please consider this the first time Gale opened up and how well it all went in the long run; one smutty scene]

A few months into dating Gale, Marge can tell something is bothering him, but when she asks, he assures her he's fine. The thing is, he's not. Marge is certain. But he won't talk about it. So, one night when they're out to dinner with John, Marge waits for Gale to excuse himself to the restroom, then leans across the table and says, "John, does Gale talk to you when he's feeling off?"

John squints at her. "Is he off?" He asks. 

"No, not right now," Marge says. "But when we're alone sometimes, I can tell something is bothering him, but he won't say what it is."

"Oh," John says. He straightens up and leans forward so they're nearly nose-to-nose. "Okay, so you have to tell him he has to talk to you about it."

"What?"

"I know it seems rude, but he'll say he's fine if he's got two broken legs and a head wound." 

Marge giggles. "Yes, that feels very true."

John beams at her, and Marge thinks for a moment how much she likes him. He's so welcoming and sweet, A little wild, but nothing to fear. She's set him up twice since she and Gale started dating, and both of her friends reported he's a real true gentleman even when he's well into the evening. 

"But if you tell him he has to tell you, he can't pretend like he's covering his feelings because you've admitted really clearly that you've seen them."

"How did you figure that out?" Marge asks. She's surprised when John suddenly looks away from her and leans back a little. Like he's embarrassed. She is certain she has never seen him embarrassed.

"Just got lucky," he says. He clears his throat. "Here he comes," he says. 

Marge straightens up and takes a sip of her water as Gale sits back down. 

"Where were you two up to?" he asks. 

"Nothing," John says. He throws his arm over the empty chair next to him. Marge mentally lists her single friends, trying to pair any of them with John. 

"Uh-huh," Gale says, and his arm settles warm and comfortable on the back of Marge's chair. "Whatever scheme he's brewing, don't trust him, Marge."

She grins at Gale and touches his knee. "Oh, come on, let a girl have a little fun."

"Felonies are fun?" Gale replies, which makes John chuckle. 

Marge shrugs. "It's only a felony if you get caught, Gale."

"Smart," John says, pointing at Marge. And it's her turn to laugh. 

*

Two nights later, Gale shows up to take Marge to a movie. He's off again, though as sweet and considering as always. Marge doesn't say anything about it until after the movie. They're parked outside of town, tucked down an access road Marge led Gale to. 

"And how would a sweet girl like you know a place like this?" Gale teases as he slides across the seat. 

Marge meets him halfway and presses her hand to his chest. "You know sweet and naive aren't the same thing," she replies. She touches her thumb to his mouth before he can kiss her and get her distracted. "You're not okay tonight," she says. "You're off like you get sometimes, Gale. I need you to talk to me about it." 

He goes very still, then he turns his head, Marge's thumb slipping off his mouth. "You sound like John," he says like it's hard to say. 

"I asked for help on how to talk to you," Marge says. "I figured if anyone knew, it'd be him."

Gale grips his own knee. "Marge. It's–"

"I love you, Gale," Marge says. "You've said it back to me, and I know you wouldn't do that lightly–"

"No, no I wouldn't."

"So, let me love you," Marge says. "Talk to me about what's bothering you."

Gale stares out of the windshield for another minute. Marge waits, her hand back on his chest so he hopefully won't fall completely into his own head. "I love John," he says finally. It's a whisper, but it's clear and sure. "I thought I loved him like you love a friend, but…" He glances at Marge, eyes taking in her face. Marge keeps herself still, determined to give him room to speak. "I love you, Marge. I do. But, you…" He glances out the back window, and he lifts his hand from his knee and places it over Marge's on his chest. His heart is hammering, and Marge wants to soothe him, but he's clearly not done talking. 

"I get confused sometimes, looking at you and being with you. Because you feel like John, and he feels like you, and I don't…I don't know what that means. I don't know how to explain it more than that, so I haven't wanted to explain it."

"Okay," Marge says. She turns her hand to take Gale's. "You're sure you feel the same for us?" she asks. "That you're…romantically interested in both of us?"

Gale nods. He's still staring out the back window. "I've worked it over and over," he says. "I think about how I feel about the other fellas. I love them, but like brothers. Friends. Not. Not like this." He looks at her finally, and his eyes are bright and scared, and oh, her heart breaks for him, carrying this in silence for so long. "Not like you." He says.

Marge reaches up and pulls Gale towards her. She kisses his cheek and makes him rest his head on her shoulder. "Have you told John?" she asks. 

"No," Gale says. "But. Um." He breathes out shakily. "We've kissed a few times," he says. "Not since you and I started seeing each other, but we used to sometimes." 

Marge lets that idea settle. Gale and John have kissed. Gale is in love with John like he is with her. "Were you hoping I'd make it go away? Your feelings for John?"

"I didn't know what they were until I met you. I really thought it was just…I don't know. Extra friendly?"

A giggle escapes Marge. She doesn't mean it to, but she's as tense as Gale. And, what a way to say it. "Extra friendly?" she asks. "Did you want to kiss the other boys you're friendly with?"

"None of the ones on base," Gale says. 

"Oh," Marge breathes out. She lifts Gale's head from her shoulder. "Oh, sweetheart," she says. He doesn't meet her eyes. "There were other ones? Before John?"

"Just a couple. I didn't…we moved a lot when I was growing up, so I didn't have any long-time friends. But there were a couple…" 

"Did you kiss them, too?"

"No," Gale says, and Marge thinks about her own crushes when she was younger. Boys she wanted to kiss but didn't for some reason. She touches Gale's chin, and turns his head until he can't help but look at her. "You wanted to, though, didn't you?"

"Looking back, yeah," he says. He closes his eyes. He doesn't try to turn his head away. 

Marge isn't entirely sure what to do with everything he's said. But she can feel that her feelings for Gale haven't changed even a little. She slides her fingers from his chin to his cheek, presses her thumb to his lips again. "Do you kiss John like you kiss me?" she asks. 

Gale's eyes snap open, and Marge is struck by the realization that she and Gale and John all have blue eyes. She learned in high school science that blue eyes are pretty rare. She doesn't believe in signs or anything like that. But it's interesting to realize. She has blue eyes. Gale has blue eyes. John has blue eyes. 

"Kiss me like you kiss John," she says. "I'll tell you if you do."

Gale stares, mouth falling open as his breath quickens. "Marge. I don't need–You're–"

"I need it," she says because she does. She needs to know. Gale says he loves them the same way, but do they kiss the same way? Or is it different somehow? "Please, Gale, I won't ask ever again after this."

He nods slowly. "Do you want…um. Usually I sat in his lap." 

"Usually?" Marge asks as she shifts. She sits up straight against the seat back and lays her arms along the top like she can picture John doing. 

"There wasn't always a place to sit," Gale replies. He stares at her. He licks his lips. "Um. That's. You look really pretty, Marge."

She smiles and tilts her head in the way she knows flatters her. "Come here, Gale," she says. "Kiss me." 

Gale throws a leg over her lap and settles in, head tipped down towards her, and his arms going over the back of the seat. "John likes my waist," he says. 

Marge can't help her smirk. She likes Gale's waist, too. It's so narrow, so grabbable. She puts her hands on his waist like he does her, holding him with what she hopes is an easy firmness and care. "Like that?" 

"Yeah," Gale says. He takes a deep breath, and he shakes from head to toe, and Marge can't help but press her mouth against his collarbone in a reassuring touch. "Marge," Gale breathes out. 

She tips her chin up and squeezes his hips. "Kiss me," she says.

He cups the back of her head in both hands and kisses her, mouth firm against her for a moment, before he breathes in through his nose and opens his lips just a little. He presses the tip of his tongue against her bottom lip, then slides his mouth so he's kissing just the corner on the right side. 

Marge slides her hands up his back and digs her fingertips into his skin through his shirt. She sucks lightly on his bottom lip and tips her head when he slips his tongue into her mouth. She slides her own tongue against him, then sucks lightly. It makes him shiver like it always does, and she grabs his belt and tugs him close enough that her breasts are pressed against his chest.

"Gale," she sighs. It feels exactly as good as it always does, making her entire body tingle in reaction. And Gale is kissing her the same as ever. Sweet and teasing and warm and heavy. Single-focused and devoted. The only difference is the angle. That Gale is on her lap other than the other way around. 

This is how he kisses John.

Marge can picture it as Gale ducks his head to kiss her neck and drags his hands down her front to knead her breasts. "Do you touch John like this?" she asks, her fingers slipping behind his belt and waistband. Gale shakes at the question and bites on her shoulder through her dress. Marge turns her head and nips the top of his ear. Something she's done with other boys but not Gale. Not until now. 

Gale chokes, and his thumbs rub Marge's nipples through her dress and her slip and her bra. A heavier caress than he usually uses. Like he knows it takes a little extra effort to be felt through a few layers. 

He's touched John exactly like this. Marge is certain. She presses a hard kiss to his temple, then lets go of his belt to touch him through his slacks. 

"Marge–" he says, strangled and breathy. 

She keeps touching him, tracing the shape of his hard cock with two fingers over and over. Pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck as he pants in her ear. "Has he ever touched you like this?" she asks as Gale pushes against her fingers and shakes from head to toe. 

"No. No. We haven't. We never–"

"I wonder how his hands feel," Marge says, words tumbling out before she can stop them. Gale chokes and goes still. His hands go slack against her breasts. Marge keeps rubbing him. "His hands are so large," she continues. "Do you ever think about that?"

Gale whines and gasps, and then there's wetness on the front of his slacks. Marge looks up to meet his shocked, wide-open eyes and shifts her hand so she can press her entire palm against the dampness she can feel. 

"What–"

Marge is wet herself, and the realization makes her throw her head back and stare at the ceiling of the car. She flexes her thighs a few times, feeling the zip of arousal spark through her.

"Marge," Gale says after a few moments. 

Marge meets his gaze. "Gale," she replies. 

"I…What was that?"

Marge doesn't know, but her instinct tells her she better find out. "I don't know," she admits. "But I still love you, Gale. I don't see you any differently."

"Really?"

"You said you love us the same. You kiss us the same, it seems. I think…" She thinks of John's smile. His warmth. That bit of wildness in him that is fun but not dangerous. Or maybe it's dangerous in a very specific way. A type of dangerous worth learning to work with. "I think I should talk to John," she says. 

Gale stares at her. He takes a slow, deep breath, and he seems to forcibly release the tension he's holding. "If that's what you want to do," he says. "I trust you."

"I trust you," she replies because she thinks he needs to hear it. The way he smiles, she knows she was right. 

*

It's easy enough to see John alone. Marge's roommate is going out of town to see her husband on his base four hours away, so Marge has the apartment to herself for several days. She has Gale tell John to show up at four on Tuesday, and John does. 

"Okay, if this is a surprise party, you're way off on my birthday," John says when Marge answers the door. He's in his uniform and looks as handsome as ever, but Marge swears he's even better looking now that she knows he's kissed Gale. 

"Come in, John," she says and steps aside so he can. 

He walks over the threshold and takes a hand from behind his back. There's a single tulip in a bud vase. "I always like to bring something the first time I'm invited over," he says. 

"You've been here before," Marge says as she takes the vase. She smells the tulip and smiles. It's bright yellow and still mostly closed. It'll open up over the next several days and look lovely on the kitchen table. 

"That was always at the end of the evening with Buck," John says. "This is the first time I got a personal invitation."

He's so sweet, Marge thinks. Realizing something so small and wanting to mark it. "Thank you," she says. "That's very sweet."

John looks around the room. "Nothing to it," he says, but she catches the way he rubs his thumb against his other fingers. A little nervous movement, she thinks. 

"John, are you nervous?" she asks because John had been the one to tell her to be direct with Gale. No reason not to treat him the way he'd treat Gale. 

He looks at her, bites his bottom lip, then shrugs and chuckles. "A little, yeah," he says. "We've never been alone. I'm hoping I'm not about to hear you need help breaking things off with Buck."

"Has someone done that to you before?" Marge asks, shocked. 

"Not for Buck. You're the first one I've ever seen turn his head, but a couple of times with other fellas, yeah." 

Marge can't help the warm surge of pride of being the only one to have turned Gale's head. Except for John. But of course John won't tell her that. It wouldn't be polite. It wouldn't be kind. "I don't like that people only invited you over to help you cut ties with someone. What a mean thing to do." For a moment, John looks shocked, but then it's off his face like a blink. 

"I'm very charming," he says, and gives a sweeping bow.

Marge laughs because it's clearly what John is looking for. "Well, you're here because I like you and just wanted to talk a little," she says. "And not about getting rid of Gale. I plan to keep him for a very long time." She gestures for John to follow her as she walks to the kitchen. 

"Good. That's good. He needs someone like you, Marge."

"Like me how?" Marge asks as she sets the bud vase on the table. "Sit, please. Coffee?"

"Coffee would be great," John says and sits. It's a little two-person table, and he looks so large sitting there. Marge feels her heart speed up at the sight of him lit up by the windows. He's so handsome. Different than Gale, but in similar ways. Tall and blue-eyed and loose-limbed. "I mean someone like you," he says as Marge pours them both coffee. "You're smart and you're sweet and you're kind. He needs that."

"So do you," Marge replies as she sets down their coffees then takes her own seat. She waits for John to take a sip and then put down his cup. "And you're not listing anything you're not, so I don't know that Gale even needs me."

John stares at her. "Huh?" he says. 

Marge takes her own sip of coffee, then sets the cup out of the way so she can lay her hands on the table. "You're smart and sweet and kind, John. You're allowed to want that back."

John blinks and taps a finger on the table. "I mean, sure. Who doesn't? But we're talking about Buck. Not me."

"I'm talking about you," Marge says. She folds her hands one over the other. She takes a deep breath. "Gale loves me," she says. 

"Of course he does," John replies. "You're not thinking he doesn't aren't you? Because let me tell you–"

"And I love him," Marge adds, and John goes silent. His finger presses so hard against the table the tip turns white. "And he told me you and he used to kiss sometimes."

John swallows hard. "Marge, I can–"

"I asked him to kiss me like he kissed you," Marge says. "Do you want me to show you?"

John goes very quiet and very still. 

"He told me he loves me the way he loves you. But he didn't even know how he loved you until he realized he loved me," Marge says. John's cheeks are pinking. He's still not moving. But he's also not leaving or interrupting. "I asked him to kiss me like he kissed you, and he did." She smiles, hoping John will relax a little. 

He doesn't. Tense as a bowstring. But he takes a few deep breaths through his nose, then says, "What'd you think?" he asks, trying for humor, but it's strangled.

Marge's smile widens. "It felt the same as when he kisses me. Well, except he was on my lap, and it's usually the other way around."

"He was…on your lap?"

"You know our Gale," Marge says, glad she's worked the 'our' into the conversation. She'd tried a few ways in her head to slip it in. "He's detail-oriented."

John barks a laugh, and then his whole body relaxes, and he droops forward and puts his head in his hands. "You don't strike me as a bohemian, Marge."

"Is that what it is to be glad we can both love him?" Marge asks. "Because that's what I'd like to do."

John looks at her between his fingers. "You'd be okay with–" He presses his mouth closed. 

Marge stands and walks around the table, trailing her fingers on the wood, the shadow of the bud vase draping over her hand for a moment. She stops at the edge of John's boots. She looks at him. He looks at her. "I like you a lot, John. I like the way you're a little wild, but you're sweet. You're kind. You care. I've been trying to figure out which of my friends to set you up with next, and no one quite fits."

"I'm too handsome?"

Marge chuckles and reaches out, touches his chin the way she touches Gale's. John turns his face into it, and Marge isn't in love with him, but the chances of it happening get brighter in her chest. "You helped me talk to Gale," she says. "You kissed him first and still gave him a real chance with me. You make him laugh and help him relax and make him feel good about himself."

"It's easy," John says. "You know."

"I know," Marge agrees. She presses her thumb to his lips. He kisses it like it's not even a thought. "I want to try to love him together, and to love each other," she says. "I don't know what that looks like or what it'll feel like, or even if it's truly doable, but I think maybe I can't find someone to set you up with because I want you with me. With us."

John reaches out. His hand is shaking. But he curls his fingers around Marge's waist with surety. "Gotta say, Marge. Never would have guessed you'd pitch such a crazy plan."

Marge smiles and shifts a little closer. Dips down and presses her nose to John's forehead. "I'm a little wild," she says. "But not in a bad way." 

John brings his other hand up to her waist and gives a small tug. Marge lets him lead her into his lap. "What does he kiss you like?" John asks. 

And Marge is certain, as she bends her head to show him, that they'll all get to love each other and feel good about it.

[pretty-restless-insomniac]

"You Made Me This"

WORD COUNT: 1554

FANDOM: Harry Potter

Mattheo Riddle x reader

SYNOPSIS: You just hope you'll hurt less once you say what you wish.

WARNINGS: explicit language, mention of infidelity, mention of sex, angst, no happy ending

----------------------------------------

"Oh shit. OH SHIT how are we going to get out of here?"

"Calm down, you screaming like a fucking banshee isn't going to help."

"oh that's fresh coming from you Riddle," you whirl around with an accusing finger.

"You probably planned this, you wretched gargoyle, damn it. Help please somebody! The door is locked!"

Slow irritating clapping came from behind you, "Wow y/n you're a fucking genius. The door IS locked, it's fucking night time! We're in a prohibited area. All the professors are patrolling the lower corridors."

You just glare at him and gesture for him to fuck off. You sigh and lean against the wall to assess your situation. One, you just wanted a pretty isolated place to listen to your music and cry a little. Two, you did not expect to see Mattheo Riddle in your place in the bell tower, clearly smoking whatever he pleases. Stunned you didn't get to wedge a book into the door so it wouldn't lock. That's how you find yourself at number three. You're trapped in the bell tower, after curfew, now very obviously smelling like pot and yay who's your partner in solitude?

Mattheo Fucking Riddle.

He seemed surprised to see you as well but why should he be? You were the one to show him this place, somewhere you two could just exist in each other's company. A place where not even war could bother you both. Before he fucked up of course.

All in good time.

"Maybe instead of being a nuisance you could instead find us a way out then, Riddle."

He drops from the beam he was smoking on and slowly corners you, looking almost confused.

"That's not my name princess," he leans in to grab your hand but you just shake him off. How fucking DARE he. He has to be the most ignorant wizard in the world.

"I am Not your princess, Riddle."

He just stands across from you, folded arms mirroring yours . That stupid smirk back in its place .

"Now when did we decide that? Last time I checked, whose name did you scream last time I had you. Who made you cum till you shook, and gladly licked it clean."

You just stare back humorless, trying to keep your composure.

"You decided that Riddle, you know, the night where you fucked that Gryffindor girl."

He just throws his head back and groans. Your throat starts to feel choked up, holding back the cries you'd pray he'd never see. But now he's getting a glimpse of it

"Princess- y/n I swear to Salazar Slytherin that I did not fuck her. We kissed yes, touched a little but then nothing more I swear."

"Oh thank you Mattheo," you exclaim sarcastically, " that just makes me feel so much better. Please tell me that I did not walk in on you grinding into her when she was naked. Explain to me how the fuck that is loyal in any way!"

You jump up and pace a little anxiously, knowing that this night will be filled with cold hard truths. You just hope you'll hurt less once you say what you wish. Mattheo reached out to you again but you just brushed out of his way and sat on the winding staircase.

"And the worst part is," you take a deep breath praying your voice stays stable ," that was OUR bed. It was where we studied and had movie nights as friends. The bed you asked me out on, and later took my first kiss on. It was," you breathe shakily and are blind by the tears filling your eyes, "it was where you made love to me, for the first and many times after that. It was beautiful."

You're glad you can't see the reaction Mattheo has from your words but he soon knelt down in front of you cautiously.

"it was so beautiful- you are so beautiful my love. You have my heart and I will never again want for someone else. You're my everything. That was my first time making love as well, because I'm so fucking crazy for you."

You can help but laugh with tears in your eyes, "yeah right Mattheo. Riddles don't make love, you fuck anyone you want and toss them aside when you're done with them. That's what our relationship came down to, right? Getting your prick wet."

He chuckles slyly.

"That sex was pretty good- don't look at me like that! Fuck I'm sorry I was joking. Of course it wasn't just about that. I just keep fucking up, I can own up to that. I'm trying to be better, I want to be better. Only for you, y/n. Please for fucks sake, look at me baby."

So you do. And he nearly trips as the storm clouds ravage across your eyes. You stand and push him against the door, somewhat pleased to hear a nervous gulp.

"What's the matter Matty? Don't you want to know why you keep fucking up?"

You take a deep breath before sticking your finger to his chest.

" It's because you NEVER own up to the shit you do. You never fucking learn because you act like you don't know what you've done!"

You're screaming by the end of it, but his dark eyes now match yours. Must've hit a nerve.

"Oh yeah cause it's ALWAYS me? YOU left me! You promised and you lied. YOU promised. Don't put all the fucking blame on me princess. This isn't about some random bed warmer. I did nothing but devote myself to you, so what did I do that's so fucking horrendous!?"

You throw your arms up in exasperation, God damn, he's fucking cruel. You can't hold back the dam anymore, deciding to let all the poisonous shit that's been building up in you these past months out.

"You BROKE me," you shriek as sobs begin to pour out endlessly. You fall to your knees and look up to meet Mattheo's horrified face. You shake harder and try to take some deep breaths.

"Why did you do this to me? To us. Everything was great, I adored you, how was that not enough. Why did you let me find you with her that night? I-" you hold back a gag as you relive the worst night of your life. The boxers you bought him on his hips, hickeys down his neck. His matching promise ring is discarded. And worst, the smiling girl waving at you stark naked from her position on the bed.

Why? Fuck. Why, why.

"When I was with you, you made my life brighter. You were my sun and I held you close to me every night, remember? After every meeting with your father, when he forced the dark mark on you and you came to ME crying. ME. I was good enough then, but not worth it in the end."

He tries to interrupt but you just keep barreling through.

"I couldn't even face you after that. Call me a coward but every time I look at you, I feel sick. You touched her the way you touched me. Your lips fit on hers as they did mine, fuck Mattheo you were even holding her hand."

You start tugging on your hair, probably painting the picture of a psychotic breakdown. That's what made you hate him even more though, the shame.

"I can't believe I let you make me so weak, so willing for you. I fucking adored you, and you HUMILIATED me. You broke my smile. My spirit, my heart. And I will NEVER be the girl I was before I caught you that night. I can't even imagine trying to put myself back together. You killed the me you were once in love with. That is why you're Riddle to me. Riddles destroy."

You bend and put your hands on your knees trying to slow your heart rate. Mattheo just sits across from you with his head in his hands. He doesn't know how to react, what to say, what to do except to grab the key from his pocket and hand it to you, climbing back to his beam.

"You're right. You always are. It was a beautiful thing and I had to have it, even though I knew I would break you. You're just all I ever wanted. But I am only a monster to you, use that key. I got the conversation I wanted. The princess escapes the monster, right?"

He chuckled sadly, not even looking at you as you rushed to open the door. Thank fuck. Before you step fully out, you pause. You turn to look at the boy you would've done anything for, the boy you were so sure would treat you the same.

"I never wanted to be the Princess in your fairytale. I'm not perfect. But I know my fucking worth," you throw the key at him before grabbing the door on your way out. As you lean in to close the door fully, you catch a last glimpse of his eyes.

"You were right about the monster part. It's just a shame you've made me one too."

The door clicks shut, and you don't feel anything walking away. Numb, even to the cries of your name echoing back to you. 

[heavy-swing]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt #13 - Butte

Content Warnings: None

Spoiler Warnings: None

Summary: It's times like these where Aelita thinks she might start to regret her agreement with Chrysocolla: sweating in the sun, having walked halfway across Thanalan looking for some mineral or another. And yet at the same time, there's nowhere she'd rather be.

Check it out below or on Ao3:

Aelita's fur was dripping sweat, which was not terribly surprising after spending all day in the Thanalan sun. She'd worn a wide-brim hat her father had left behind, thinking it might help some, but just being in the outdoor air felt oppressive, like she was a piece of bread baking in an oven.

“Chrys, couldn't we just come back tomorrow? Any longer out here and you're liable to find a puddle next time you turn around.” She said, fanning her face with a hand to little avail.

“Your voyage home is tomorrow, is it not? Certainly you wouldn't have time to hike back out here and still make it back to the port at Vesper Bay, I'd wager.”

She knew that they would already know that the answer was ‘no’, but she was hot enough that it felt like it was worth trying. 

“If you feel strongly, then we can throw in the towel, but I'd like to stick it out a little longer. I've got a good feeling that we're just about to find something really special!”

They were just so excited about these rocks they were looking for that Aelita found it impossible to refuse them. “No, no, we'll keep at it, then.”

The two of them had been digging away at various locations around central Thanalan, and the current site of Aelita’s gradual melting was a small butte near Black Brush Station. Aelita let out a sigh as she once again hoisted the pickaxe onto her shoulder, readying herself for another swing. She brought the axe down on the rocky outcropping, breaking off a chunk of the crumbling rock and kicking up some dust. She swung again and again, taking more and more of the rock with each one. Before long, she’d fallen into a rhythm, the sound of the axe making contact with the butte marking out a steady beat. On and on it went, up and down, up and down, up and down, putting Aelita in a sort of trance. Until the axe suddenly made an oddly quiet ‘clink’ sound on contact, which snapped her back to reality. Sounded like it could be what we’re lookin’ for. She dropped the pick to the ground and knelt in the loose rock to get a better look. It appeared to be a moderately sized inclusion of some sort of darker rock, set in the side of the butte. She tried dusting it off with a glove at first, but to little success, but she heard Chrysocolla’s voice in her head: “If you want to observe a potential geological specimen, giving it a rinse with some water is the quickest way! It lets the light get to it and you can see the color more clearly.” Aelita lightly jogged to where their packs rested, quickly fishing her waterskin out of hers before trotting back. She popped the cap open and slowly began pouring the water onto the mystery rock. The dust melted away, sliding off the rock’s surface like a curtain parting to reveal a performer on stage. As she leaned back in, the blazing sunlight hit the rock’s surface, shining a brilliant green.

“Hey, Chrys.” Chrysocolla looked up from the tailings they were sifting through. “Mmm?” “What was it we were looking for again?”

They stood up and walked over to where Aelita was crouched. “Raw emeralds! They’re a crystal with a dark green hue–” They pointed to the crystal that Aelita had just uncovered. “Just like that!” Chrysocolla leapt up to their feet and wrapped Aelita in a very sweaty hug. “I can’t believe we actually found some…” “Now what?” “We extract it, of course!” “I extract it, you mean,” she countered with a laugh, giving them a playful punch to the shoulder. “Well, uh… I mean…” Chrysocolla began stumbling over their words. It’s just too easy to mess with them. “I’m just foolin’ with you, Chrys.” If her words didn’t give her away, her trademark sly grin certainly did. “You owe me a cold drink when we get back, though.” “With the size of that emerald vein, you can have all the cold drinks you like, my friend.” “All right, all right. Stand back so I can pop this sucker outta there,” Aelita said, lifting the pickaxe overhead. Just a few more swings, and then back to the Quicksand, she thought as she brought it down again.

[theerurishipper]

I remember people said the scene in Transmission, where Ladynoir renounce their Miraculous and "seemingly" not thinking about each other are mean to be a plot hole, not character inconsistency.

Bt for me, if the character NOT even make a slight uncomfort gesture/expression when they see Scarabella and Black Minette out there instead of their team mate, then it's not a plot hole, it's character inconsistency.

"Plot hole" excuse only work if Adrinette make any comment/looks surprised/make any reaction upon seeing the new duo but the aired time won't let the show do more than that. But the show doesn't let them react negatively which resulting people interpret it as "Yeah I don't care about my team mate, I already got my gf/bf anyway" which is not plot hole at all.

It's 100% character inconsistency. Plot holes are when the plot is wonky, and some logic doesn't logic. When a character acts OOC, it is character inconsistency. Adrien and Marinette have both become wildly OOC since the second Adrienette became canon on this show. They don't care about superheroing anymore, they don't care about each other as Ladybug and Chat Noir anymore. Outside of like, one line about "I hope Ladybug/Chat Noir are okay" (which is quickly overshadowed by some Adrienette, cause we sure do need more of that when we're talking about the late Ladynoir), they just don't give a fuck.

Actually, this isn't even character inconsistency anymore, this is a whole character overhaul a la whatever happened to Felix Fathom. Cause Adrienette only works if you change significant aspects of their characters. What about Chat Noir meaning freedom and a means of escape for Adrien, what about Ladybug being the narrative opposite of his abusive father who gives him unconditional love and acceptance? Fuck that, what he really needs is to start centering his identity around his classmate (with whom he isn't even that close because she thinks he's perfect) and defining himself based on her needs. And what of Chat Noir being the only one who can understand Marinette's struggles? Chat Noir being her special partner whom she can always lean on? Nah, fuck that shit lmao, here's Marinette trying to tell Adrien something he already knows and Marinette trying to hold Adrien's hand even though she's done that before without a problem!

Anyway, like I was saying, they had to change their characters up so that Adrienette could make sense, because it sure wouldn't make sense if it became canon in the show that devoted the bulk of its development to Ladynoir, now would it? So that's why we get episodes like Determination, where Adrien is suddenly head over heels for Marinette out of fucking nowhere, right after the Jubilation dream sequence where they had those cabbage patch kids, and Ladybug initiated a kiss even though they realized this was a dream, and they were clearly having some complicated feelings about the whole thing at the end of the episode. Cause fuck Ladynoir, amirite? Like, why would we waste time on the relationship we spent 5 seasons developing when we could focus on some cookie cutter high school romance with retcons galore and multiple, I tell you, multiple scenes featuring Marinette suddenly having the inability to do things she's done before with no problem, and apparently, it's all Chloe's fault, like what a fucking shocker, who could have seen that coming.

And lets not get into the actual plot holes in Transmission too, cause those also exist? How does Adrien Agreste know and proudly state Scarabella's name when no civilian knows she exists? How does this not make Marinette question why he knows? Why does Marinette expect that someone else becoming Ladybug means she's free when she's still the Guardian? Make it make sense, please.

Anyway, that's all I got. I'm sorry for using your ask as a venting post, anon. I just rewatched Gamer today, and god, Adrienette are so cute and adorable in Season 1. Like, they actually have chemistry and fun interactions and it's the lucky charm debut episode! I will never forgive this show for taking that Adrienette away from me and replacing it with... whatever Season 5 coughed up.

Thank you for your ask!

[ganymedesclock]

Hi, I've got a Hollow Knight question for you. How much do you think PK actively designed his small body, vs just wanting certain criteria and the rest just sorta happening? Also, how much do you think the anatomy resembles normal bug anatomy vs Wyrm anatomy vs entirely unique anatomy?

I think PK had full control over what he would become within the limits of physiology (so, he couldn't, say, have had his head fully detached from his body) but he didn't understand the ramifications very well until later.

PK, as far as we can tell, is an extremely detail-obsessive individual. He's not caught by surprise by the features of his creations, but he is often dangerously wrong about what this implies about their more ephemeral traits. Considering he is his own work, I think this applies to him.

So, he chose to become smaller- and probably lowballed it intentionally because he did not want to tower over others. (I'm a slightly boring person who doesn't think he minds being short, though his ego wouldn't be untouchable in that subject, the fact that he's "actually" godzilla-sized in origin and chose to leave that life voluntarily behind suggests that he doesn't exactly have hangups about needing to be taller)

He chose to redefine his bladed mouthparts as a sharpened crown, and to give himself a Face, that bugs would like to look at and find familiar. He chose to- at least in my interpretations of what lies under his cloak- give himself multiple flexible, dexterous graspers.

As far as anatomy goes, I'm going to share this older (warning for bug mandibles) art I did of a possible gijinka design, because that gets at about what I feel like his features would read as to mundane bug and beast.

Basically, he has some unusual features but a lot of those things are flattering or pretty from a certain angle; he has a very smooth, graceful gait (almost floating, without distinct strides) he has a very bright, shiny exoskeleton (literally shining) without blemishes or asymmetry, he has long horns- which are apparently a sought-after trait in Hallownest's society given the journal description of the Husk Hornhead. This is why his gijinka form as I drew it is, superficially at least, a handsome swishy fantasy elf-wizard-looking type. He is literally a piece of art sculpted by his own hands and his eye for aesthetics is not only obvious but pretty clearly lines up with what the average layperson considers beautiful- look at how nice the White Palace looks!

Granted, though, I think that he also exists deeply in the uncanny valley. We're not used to seeing people who are beautiful the way a ceramic doll might be, and these kinds of beauty removed from humanity are a common subject in horror for a reason.

And because I can't ever really separate my read on PK from a sense of compassion that this was a very miserable creature, this is where my personal read leans- he can stay on the "pretty, desirable" side of the uncanny, but only with effort and restricting his behaviors a lot. Hence me doing a gijinka take of him with a four-point mouth; imagine negotiating those hinges to make a sufficiently Nice, Human, Politically Polite smile. It'd be so difficult to manage, especially while speaking, that it'd be far more likely for him to do much what he's shown to do in canon- become a recluse that avoids people so the times you have to make a public appearance are a minimum and a few people are initiated to your circle where they get to see and deal with you all the time.

Part of this would even be rather simple and straightforwards- Hallownest is a setting where predator and prey dynamics coexist fully with sapience. There is a nonzero concern any stranger might eat you, and this probably factors into how warlike or predatory features are considered- size, claws and fangs. PK's mouthless plate of a face and seemingly smooth body as projected by his robes would seem doll-like in another sense- utterly bereft of predatory warning flags. His head-body proportions and sleek, unblemished appearance would invoke a child and we know the creatures of Hallownest care for their children by default- even the more brutal societies like Deepnest or the Mantis Lords.

But this utter lack of predation is an illusion. In reality, PK is not only a living organism actively feeding on worship and devotion, but the organism in question is a colossal entity whose true "face" is nothing but mouth and fangs, and a thickly armored body covered with spikes. Blades, and spikes, and methodical surgical torture are major motifs repeated throughout the palace and in other environments of PK's power. By implication, every part of him is a blade and him being easy on the eyes is the way that a parade sword can glitter so invitingly that any kid might want to pick it up, but if that parade sword is made with good steel and its twinkling gemstones real diamonds, it could still slice you to ribbons and probably won't seem so inviting afterwards.

A friend of mine @betterbemeta pointed out that my writings of him in Refuge For Resolve give him more than a passing resemblance to the figure of the King In Yellow, and I've always liked that one.