#like why aren’t these two talked about more??

[markrosewater]

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

[peachesofteal]

Tip of my Tongue - Azriel/single mom reader

He puts you out of his mind. 

Or tries to, at least. His thoughts stray, at night, in quiet moments, and he catches himself thinking about you, wondering if he should have done more, pushed harder, tried to get you to talk to him even though he understands your reluctance. It didn’t surprise him how you avoided his eyes, turned away. 

Illyrians both hate and fear him, and Azriel despises them in return.

Cauldron only knows how you may have suffered in their hands. 

It’s not his business. 

Illyrians are not unwelcome in Velaris, it is your right to live in the city if you so choose. 

Let it go.  

His effort is in vain, crumbling only two days later when he comes across you on the street, half open bag spilled out across the sidewalk. 

Leave her be, it’s not your business, not your-

You’re crouched, baby in one arm while trying to gather up your things with another, and without thinking, he swoops down at your side, picking them up quicker than you can protest. “Are you alright?” 

This time, there’s no opportunity for you to cut him off, or run. He’s holding a stuffed rabbit in his hand. 

“Yes, I’m…” you reach for the toy, rising to stand at the same time, and blood rushes in his ears. “We’re okay, thank you.” You watch him carefully, but for some reason, less guarded than that day in the market, a little more brave, open. 

“I’m Azriel.” You probably already know that, he’s sure. 

You bite your bottom lip and practically whisper your own in return before bouncing the baby on your hip. “This is Luna. Or Lulu.” You cup her cheek, and her head tips back, wonder in her eyes as she stares at you. 

It does something to him, breaks a dam of emotion inside his heart, warmth flooding through his body from fingers to toes, and his voice is rough when he speaks.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, she’s a handful.” You hoist her higher, wincing. “And heavy. Aren’t you, Lu?” You smile, but it barely touches your eyes, their corners tight with stress. 

He wants to know why, wants to know you- 

wants to fix it. 

“Thanks for,” you gesture to the bag with your free hand, “helping. And for yesterday, too. You didn’t have to.”

“He was ripping you off.” He’s stern, almost reproachful, and you avert your eyes, guilt pinging through his bones as a result. He shouldn’t expect you to be able to hold your own in a city who undoubtedly turns their nose up at you. You’re vulnerable here, to no fault of your own. He shouldn’t chastise you for it, so he switches tactics. “Do you live in the city?” You nod. 

“We’ve been here for a few weeks.” You shift uneasily. There’s so much left unsaid, and he wants to peel away the layers hiding it all, dig to the bottom and learn every bit of it. 

Of you. 

“Which village?” Your gaze turns bleak and then clears, clouds revealing the sun. 

“Stoneguard.” His control is the only thing that smothers his surprise. Stoneguard. 

No wonder you were so tense in the Palace. No wonder you practically ran away. 

It’s an insular northern village with its own camp, positioned deep in the mountains, sheltered by rock and forest. One of the most brutal, and backwards, one of few still left unchanged. The miniscule progress happening in Windhaven and Ironcrest is still progress, but it doesn’t reach the more isolated villages or their camps. Rhys’ and their efforts to corral them, change them, have been in vain for centuries. They subscribe to the traditional practices, brutality and clipping, abuse running rampant without care. 

You grimace, like you can read his mind, and another thought occurs, striking his soul with dread. 

How did you get here? You have no wings. Did you walk, all this way, with Luna? Alone? 

“I have to get going,” you break through his spiral with an apologetic glance, “she’ll need to go down for a nap here soon.” As if she insists on making your point, Luna’s lashes flutter, eyes struggling to stay open. 

“Right, of course.” He should let you go, should be satisfied by your answers, but the brief interaction only leaves him wanting more. Leave her be, leave her be, leave her- “Have you seen much of Velaris?” You blink, and shake your head. “I could… show you around, if you’d like.” Luna hiccups, a high pitch frequency akin to a squeak, and a smile tugs at his mouth, trying to pull it upward into something genuine. It’s a hard fought battle for a male who rarely does such a thing. You stare at him, considering, examining, like you’re trying to peer inside his soul and determine if he’s to be trusted, and then you sigh. 

“Okay.”

[shadamyheadcanons]

@shadowsfascination showed me this post from the Writing-prompt-s blog:

“Some say that an invisible red string is tied around the fingers of soulmates meant to be together forever. As it turns out, you can see these red strings, and have therefore created a highly successful matchmaking business.”

It gave me two brief ideas. The first one is a little more angsty and strictly involves Amy, while the second is fluffy and Shadamy-centric. They both have happy endings, though.

Angsty version:

Amy learns very early on about her gift, as it’s rare but not unheard of. She’s precocious about it; when she’s five, she’s prone to doing things like seeing happy couples with unconnected strings and bluntly saying, “You’re bad for each other.” Naturally, Amy’s mother is mortified by this behavior and urges her to stop doing it.

At first, this seems like a normal reaction...until one night at dinner when Amy asks, “Mom, Dad, why aren’t your strings attached? Mom is attached to the mailman instead.”

That’s how the truth comes out that her mom is cheating on her dad, which leads to their divorce. Amy blames herself, and her parents don’t do a very good job of convincing her otherwise. The resentment’s there, and she can tell. From then on, she resolves never to share her gift–her curse–with anyone for fear of ruining something else.

This continues until she hears two good friends of hers talking. One is trying to defend her clearly abusive partner, saying he’s “not always like that,” he’s “usually very sweet,” etc. And Amy just can’t hold it in any longer. She blurts out that they’re not meant to be together. The one she belongs with is the best friend who brought her in, the man who’s holding her as she’s speaking. Everyone’s silent for a moment, and Amy immediately regrets it...until six months later, when the two are dating and thank her for stepping in.

Amy embraces her gift at last and uses it to help others, becoming a matchmaker and relationship therapist. However, she spends just as much time “matchbreaking,” carefully working to break up couples who are bad for each other. She learns that sometimes, the best way to spread love is by ending ties that pull in the wrong direction, like pruning a plant of old leaves to allow new ones to thrive. It’s hard sometimes, but there’s no one who’s better at it.

Her mother never makes amends, but her father apologizes profusely for how he treated her when she was younger and introduces her to her new stepmom, thanking her for giving him the opportunity to meet her.

--

Now, the happier option:

Amy can see the strings tying people to their soulmates. Aside from aromantics like Sonic, who have little knots/bows on their fingers to show they’re complete on their own, everyone has a string...except for Amy herself. Hurt but determined, she decides to start a matchmaking business to spread love around the world in her own way, even if she can’t be a part of it.

Then, she meets Shadow, the only other person she’s met without a string. He brushes off her concern, as he doesn’t put stock in the concept and has reluctantly resigned himself to being a “dead end,” but Amy insists on trying to match him up with his soulmate all the same, as she feels everyone who wants a soulmate must have one. She finds it’s not so easy without the cheat sheet she’s had all her life. While getting to know Shadow and considering all the wonderful things he could offer as a partner, she can’t help but fall for him herself. Likewise, Shadow sees all the care and effort she’s put into bringing him happiness and fulfillment, the passion and devotion no one else could ever match. He doesn’t stand a chance, either. Amy takes the plunge and gets together with him even without that divine confirmation.

The truth of the matter, one that Shadow suspects, is that someone with the gift simply can’t see their own string, but Amy doesn’t need that validation to know she belongs with him.

[smilesrobotlover]

Here’s a list of characters that I think should’ve made it in Hyrule Warriors:

Groose. 100% he should’ve been in hw. Each era of characters seem to follow a theme of two heroes and 1 villain (in regards of the main story at least): oot has Ruto and Darunia, and tho he’s not exact I sorta count Volga since he looks like Volvagia, tp has Midna and Agitha and Zant, but skord only has Fi and Ghirahim. Why wasn’t Groose the second hero character for that era??? He’s one of the most important characters in the game and the groosenator is IN IT too! It feels disrespectful to NOT have him in it yet he’s not. I don’t understand the logic behind it but it makes me upsetti spaghetti because Groose is the best guy around

Rusl. This is definitely bias talking cuz I love Rusl but also I feel like it makes more sense. Now… I like Agitha in tp. I think she’s a very fun and charming character that adds more life to the world of Tp, but she’s not an important character in that game. You could go the whole game without meeting her and have no consequence (tho she gives you great prizes so it certainly doesn’t hurt to see her), but for some reason she was added to Hyrule warriors? I just don’t think it makes any sense when the resistance were right there. Rusl is one of the most important characters in the game by being Link’s father figure, protecting the kids, being apart of the resistance, and teaching Link how to fight. It feels more natural to have an actual fighting character that was important to the plot be added, but he wasn’t. And this random child who is not a fighter and has no plot relevance was added instead. I will forever be salty about this. And if not Rusl, they should’ve at LEAST gone with Ashei since she’s also a fighter! Give the resistance some love! They’re such cool characters that were not utilized enough! UGH

Vaati. Now I don’t care too much for Vaati in the canon games, but Vaati is a very unique villain because he’s the most reoccurring villain besides Ganondorf in the Zelda series, and he was the first villain of Hyrule before Ganondorf came into existence. I feel like he should’ve had a chance in the game, maybe not in the main story, but at least a playable character. Now, tbf, Vaati is in games that aren’t super well known save for Minish cap, but still. In the world of zelda he’s very important and I feel like deserved a spot on the roster.

Now this isn’t in the actual Hyrule warriors game, but it is a hw game and I think Astor fits on this list. You’re telling me this guy was the main villain in the entire game save for the final battle and he WASNT playable?? HUH???? That is the most absurd character on this list to not be added cuz he’s not some side character, he’s the VILLAIN. Even Sooga became playable (tho that was DLC) but he WASNT! Astor was done so dirty in this game and he deserves so much better. He should’ve been playable is all I’m saying.

I surprisingly don’t have a strong opinion on this cuz idk how they could do this well but I feel like I must say this out of obligation, but Linebeck… and solely cuz I need him so bad. I want to play him in something or see him in something or do SOMETHING with him. I miss my wife tails… again, idk what they could do but they did add Medli so I’m sure they could’ve figured something out. He’s easily one of the most important characters in phantom hourglass and I would’ve love to see him 😔💔

And that’s all I have. I’m curious what other characters people wish were added to Hyrule warriors :00 but these are the big ones for me.

[whowhatwhenwhereandwhynot]

“He knows your name,” the words echoed in Sirius’ head as the struggled to process what just happened.

It wasn’t like he could play it off. Sirius wasn’t a very common name at all, wasn’t a name outside of the Black family lineage.

James wasn’t still running his finger over the rim of the shot glass and Sirius really wished he’d just down it and forget about the entire encounter.

But James was looking at him with intent eyes. Questioning eyes.

James was standing in front of him in a crop top and booty shorts in a gay bar and asking him why the bartender knew him well enough to remember his name after a year of not coming.

And aren’t Gryffindors supposed to be brave?

“Ah yeah, didn’t know he’d be working tonight but that’s Sam. He’s been bartending here for a couple of years. Surprised he remembered me after so long.”

“You make an impression,” James said, his eyes still on Sirius, his brow still furrowed.

“I guess,” Sirius chuckled and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. He turned to look at the crowd of dancers. He could say it. He could just come out and say it.

He’s a Gryffindor and Gryffindors are supposed to be brave.

Instead, he looked back to James and shrugged, “You gonna drink that or do you want me to?”

James ignored the question. “Sirius, this is a gay bar,” he said. Sirius didn’t respond, instead looking back at the dance floor. The dance floor full of men grinding on each other. In the gay bar. That he took James Potter to.

“Pads—“ he started again.

“I’m gay,” he said and grabbed the shot glass from James’ hand, downing that one as well.

Finally. Brave as a Gryffindor. And as idiotically reckless as one.

He flagged Sam down and held up two fingers and pointed back at James and he. Sam nodded that he’d seen the motion.

James still hadn’t said anything, was still staring at Sirius as if he hadn’t understood the words.

“I’m gay,” Sirius said again. This time more slowly. “I’m gay and I frequent gay clubs so when you asked where I go I told you.”

Sam stopped by and left two shots on the counter. This time he accepted the muffle money Sirius held his way.

“And I should’ve just said. Or should’ve taken you somewhere else but I panicked and didn’t think but obviously this isn’t the right place for you to pick up a girl and forget about Lily.”

James was still just standing there, staring at him. He thought he saw James’ eyes dip down and look at his lips but he knew it was wishful thinking.

“So how about you take these shots and catch up with me and then we can go to a different bar and never talk about this again.”

Sirius had gotten good at faking it. He’d gotten good at the smiles and the flirting and the hinting at women sharing his bed. He mentioned the clubs and changed the pronouns and he got good at it.

He got good at lying to James. He’d never wanted to be good at lying to James.

He’d gotten so good at it that when James and Lily broke up and James needed an outlet to “let loose” that he’d turned to Sirius and asked where he normally went.

And, of course, Sirius had given the name of the only bar he could think of.

One he hadn’t been to in a year, which could be in his best interest now as hopefully none of his old hookups would be there. But still.

He’d very much given the name of a gay bar to newly singly James Potter.

He debated calling in help but Remus wouldn’t understand the urgency. Had never understood why Sirius didn’t go out with it and tell James he was gay. James would understand, Remus was certain. It wouldn’t change anything.

But Remus didn’t know about the countless practice kisses. The times they’d share beds to stave off the cold. Didn’t know that the only reason James couldn’t see Sirius’ feelings was that he’d never thought them possible.

Sirius was a womanizer.

He’d carefully made sure James knew that. Believed that.

Because otherwise, his friend might see. Might see the arms thrown over shoulders, the lingering hugs, the blushes, the smile he couldn’t control at hearing Lily had finally left him.

Things that a straight best friend might get away with. Things that a queer friend wouldn’t.

But then he’d gone and given James the name of London’s number one gay night club.

And he was fucked.

[furioussheepluminary]

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭

Pairing: nerd!jisung x popular!afab!reader, secret friends, highschool!au, nonidol!au

Synopsis: it was just a tutoring class. Just. God, but the way he wanted you to be his...every time he saw you with the popular guys. He would make you know how much he needed you.

Warnings: secret friends because of reader's reputation, Jisung wants to be more, needy!jisung (I love me some of that), jealousy, severely suggestive, swearing

A/n: y'all should leave me alone I can't write smut so live with this 😭

The stuffed library was quiet for a Thursday afternoon, save for the occasional rustling of paper and muffled coughs. You sat in front of Jisung at one of the far tables, pen tapping against your notebook as he explained some theory in economics. The cost of production, was it? You really couldn’t care less about it. His voice was soft, a little shaky, and you know it had nothing to do with economics.

It was you. It was always you. you could tell by the way he would stare in every class, darting his eyes elsewhere while chewing the back of his pen when you caught onto him. When you walked past him and his weird friends at the cafeteria, you were certain one of them was ogling. When you had asked him to tutor you for the semester, he was impulsively acceptive. He came early to the locations, poured his heart out in the subjects you struggled with and always helped you do your assignments. Cute right? Yeah, but like, he wasn’t that important to you. And he knew unfortunately.

You glanced up from your paper, eyes narrowing at the way he kept fidgeting as he spoke. His pen hovered above his notebook, sketching a graph on something you couldn’t remember. Jisung smelled like faint chocolate and cedarwood, his hair falling over his glasses as he furrowed his brows. He was cute, cute, sweet and nerdy in a way your friends would never understand. They also never understood why you even talked to Jisung. He looked up at you.

“Did you understand me?” Your eyes met. You blinked blankly at then smiled. “No, baby I think you have to explain it to me one more time. I just love the sound of your voice honestly.” He blushed and looked down.

“You need to stop doing that.” He looked at his notebook, pushing his glasses back into position.

You pouted. “Stop doing what?”

“Lying.”

You were confused. Jisung would normally blush and play along with your stupid flirting. In fact, he would take them seriously. “You okay, Sungie?” you asked acting less concerned about his reaction. “Aren’t you meant to be giggling and blushing and all that?”

His jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he turned to you eyes flickering with something raw and desperate that it made you straighten your posture.

“No,” he muttered, voice rough. “I’m not okay.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? You not feeling well or something?”

Its not that. Oh, hell no it wasn’t. He was alive and well. Well enough to see you today dressed in his hair color, clothing that obviously wasn’t allowed as uniform. Well enough to drown himself in his perfume for you. Well enough rehearse his greetings and awful jokes to you four times in the mirror. He was so well he had enough strength to literally jack off to the thought of how your skirt rode up when you sat with your girls during lunch. But he couldn’t tell you how much of a pervert he’d been for you. That’s disgusting. He wanted to be a good boy. Your good boy. You had told him that the relationship between the two of you— if it ws even fit to be called a relationship, was strictly professional and secret. None of your friends had to know he was tutoring you. Oh, and how he hated being your secret. He didn’t want to be your secret anymore. And that? That was the problem.

“Look, Jisung,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I get that this whole tutor-friend thing is confusing for you, but let’s not make it weird, okay? You here to teach and I’m here to learn.”

His hand clenched around his pen, knuckles whitening. You could see the tension radiating off him, and for a second, you wondered if you'd crossed a line.

"Weird?" Jisung repeated, voice low and taut. "You're the one making it weird.” Your brows furrowed. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He rolled his eyes and dropped the pen."It means I can't keep doing this." His voice cracked, frustration spilling into every syllable. "Sitting here, pretending I'm okay with being invisible to you outside this library—like I'm just your little nerdy helper while you go out there and let everyone else see the side of you I want.”

You want? Hold up, what?

"Jisung—”

"I like you," he cut you off, voice trembling. "I have for a long time, okay? But you don't care. You don’t even see me that way.”

"All I asked for was tutoring, Jisung. I didn't ask for this," you said coolly, folding your arms across your chest. "You're the one who keeps making it complicated.” His breath hitched, and for a second, you thought he'd back down. But then he leaned forward, voice low and rough with desperation.

Oh. Well you didn't expect him to be that blunt about it. But then again you weren't really surprised at his approach. You'd always known he had a thing for you. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. But you couldn't let it matter. C’mon you had a reputation to keep up. Imagine how the whole school would look at you if they found out you were dating Jisung.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t care anymore."

The fire in his eyes made your stomach twist, a flicker of guilt gnawing at your insides. He looked different—less timid, more desperate. Like he was ready to snap.

“You don't care? You do realize my grades are on the line right? Don't push it, Jisung.” You spoke, your tone raising a bit.

A hint of regret flashed in his eyes. No no no. He's sorry, he does care. Really, he does.

But he has to prove his point now. He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "God, do you even realize what you do to me? The way you talk, the way you dress, how you look at me with that stupid smile when you want something... It drives me insane." His voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, like he was trying to pull himself together.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he wasn’t done.

"And then you hang out with them." His voice softened, breaking into a raw whisper. "Those fucked up jocks who knows nothing about you. Guys who get to be seen with you. They touch your arm, laugh with you, and look at you like they own you." He swallowed hard, lips trembling. "And I’m just... here. Invisible. The guy you only call when you need help with homework.”

He saw you with them? You never took those boys seriously you'd just hang out with them.

“Jisung, it’s not like that—”

Don’t lie to me," he cut you off, eyes shimmering. "I know what I am to you. A secret. Someone who doesn't matter. But God, I wish I didn’t care." His voice shook as he leaned closer, his need palpable. "I wish I could stop thinking about how your skirt rides up when you sit, or how your perfume stays on my hoodie after we sit here for hours.”

You felt your face heat, heart racing at the bluntness of his confession. He's been looking at your skirt?

"And I hate it," he added desperately. "I hate that I want you this much, even when you make me feel like I’m nothing." His breath hitched. "But I still want you.”

Oh, fuck. None of the dudes you dated were ever this blunt. Or this cautious. The vulnerability in his voice made your defenses waver. You’d always liked the power you held over him—the way he was yours to command in this little bubble. But now? Now, it felt like that power was slipping through your fingers.

"Jisung..." you began, unsure of what to say.

He exhaled shakily. "Just tell me what to do," he whispered, voice raw with need. "You want me to stop tutoring you? Fine I'll stop. You want me to leave you alone? Heck, you won't even see me anymore. You want me to embarrass myself in front of the whole school? I'll do whatever you want if it means I can have a piece of you. Please."

The desperation in his words hung between you, suffocating and electric. And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you could keep pretending this was just tutoring. Jisung has always been harmless— cute, eager to please, a bit to obvious with his feelings. But this? This was raw, desperate and far too real. And it made you uncomfortable.

He was good for you.

“Jisung you need to understand the kind of lives we have, are different.”

Lies. Fucking lies.

He looked like you’d punched him in the gut. "So that’s it?" he asked quietly, voice cracking. "You don’t care? Not even a little?”

You bit your lip an squeezed your eyes. Man, fuck your reputation.

Jisung's face was flushed, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His eyes glistened, filled with frustration and need that tugged at something deep inside you. You hated it—hated how he made you feel like you were losing control. But more than that, you hated the way your body reacted to his vulnerability. The way your pulse thrummed at the thought of wiping that hurt expression off his face in a way that words couldn't.

"Come with me," you whispered suddenly, grabbing his wrist.

"W-What?" he stammered, but you didn’t give him a chance to protest. You pulled him up from his chair, weaving through the rows of bookshelves until you found a secluded corner hidden from prying eyes.

"Y/N— What are you doing?!"

You shoved him back against the bookshelf, your breath hot and heavy. His eyes widened, shock flickering across his face.

"Destroying my reputation. Is this what you wanted?" you whispered, your voice low and daring. "Is this what you've been craving, Jisung?"

He swallowed hard, his lips parting as if to respond, but no sound came out. His silence only fueled you further.

"Answer me," you demanded, your body pressing against his. "Y-Yeah," he choked out, his voice breaking. "God, yeah."

You didn't wait. Your lips crashed against his, fierce and unapologetic. His gasp melted into a needy whimper as he clung to you, his hands trembling as they gripped your waist. The sweet taste of him mixed with desperation, and it ignited something reckless inside you. His glasses tilted awkwardly, and you pulled back just long enough to yank them off, tossing them onto the nearby shelf. "Better," you murmured against his lips before kissing him again.

Jisung whimpered, the sound raw and needy as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His fingers dug into your hips, like he was afraid you'd pull away. But you weren't going anywhere—not right now.

"You drive me crazy," he whispered against your mouth, as you bit down on his lower lip. He shuddered, pressing harder against you. "I want you," he admitted breathlessly. "God, I want you so bad.” Your heart raced, his desperation feeding your own wild energy. His words melted any resolve you had left. You nipped at his lip, pulling a soft gasp from him, before you trailed kisses down his jawline.

“You really do like being my secret, huh?” You teased against his skin. “Only mine?”

He groaned, his voice thick with need “Yes. Please—just—” You chuckled breathlessly. “Yeah? Is this what you've been thinking about when your supposed to be tutoring me?”

His face flushed, but he didn't deny it. “Yes,” he admitted hoarsely. “Every damn time.”

The rawness in his voice ignited something in you. You silenced him with another kiss, not caring about the library, the rules, or what anyone would think if they saw you. Right now, there was only Jisung, entirety and desperately yours.

yay! Second one! I swear all your gonna get from me are heated moments and all. I can't write smut for the life of me 😭. Han's one of my wreckers so I see myself writing for him more.

Taglist:

@pixie-felix @pessimisticloather

If you'd like to be added you can drop your blog name in my asks!

~kc 💗

[emwallas176]

Episode 4x09 of Smallville was genuinely so confusing. Not only was the cold open so traumatizing but then the moral gymnastics that happens for the rest of the episode (and onward) is so confounding.

So the whole premise of the episode is that Lex sleeps around so much that he can’t even remember the names and faces of the women he sleeps with. Strange and concerning on multiple levels. Even if this was completely in character (which I don’t think it is), it is still highly concerning to forget the names and faces of people you’ve been intimate with. I think they said 13 women in the last year. While that’s not a low number, I don’t think it’s high enough to cause such forgetfulness. Therefore it almost seems to imply that there’s a level of disassociation that happens on Lex’s part during the experience (you can’t form new memories if you weren’t really paying attention when they happened). This theory is also backed up by the fact that Lex admits at the end of the episode that he has suicidal thoughts, and (very) unattached sex could be a negative coping mechanism for these dark emotions. As we can see at the start of the episode, Lex looks sad and completely alone at the event. And immediately after that he jumps into bed with someone. There’s clearly a connection there (at least in my mind).

All of the above, however, is not what confuses me. It’s the other characters that I don’t understand. First you have Clark who comes in (as seems to be becoming his pattern) guns blazing and accusatory. Of course this might be warranted seeing as Lex has been quite soundly framed for murder but I digress. During their talk and with what he finds out later, Clark gets very up in arms about Lex having sex with a lot of women. Despite whether this is right or wrong of him to do, it makes absolutely no sense for why it would drive Clark into LIONEL’S arms. Especially bc Lionel admits later on that Lex learned the behavior (sleeping with women and leaving them with a pair of diamond earrings) from Lionel himself?? Like it’s bad and dishonest if Lex does it but apparently makes Lionel trustworthy?? I’m confused. Also! Let’s not forget the fact that Lionel slept with another woman while his wife was DYING! But sure, Lex is the sexually deviant one. Sure.

Also, I feel like there is a lot of disconnect between how Lex and Alicia (in later episodes) are treated. Like Lex sleeps with women (consensually) and almost gets killed by one of them and Clark tells him that he doesn’t know if he can trust him anymore. Alicia forces Clark to marry her and almost forces him to have sex with her (read: non-consensual!) and the next episode she and Clark are dating again. Also, Lex gets framed for murder and when he’s found innocent, Clark rescues him, yes, but at the end of the day he still doesn’t trust Lex. Alicia gets framed for murder and is found innocent (and dies, unfortunately (seriously that was such a shocking death what the hell Smallville?!)) and Clark feels guilty and regretful and tells his parents he wishes he believed her sooner. Now I get that these two situations aren’t quite the same but the different reactions that Clark and the other characters have feel more like the writers playing into future roles (Lex is the villain, yada, yada) rather than actually looking at the characters as they are now.

I think I would have enjoyed the episode more if I’d understood what it was trying to say. Are you trying to say that Lex is “showing a different, darker side of himself” by not caring about the women he sleeps with? Okay then why is it okay for Lionel to do. Are you trying to say that sex in general is bad? Then why have Alicia be forgiven? Why have Lana trying to loose her virginity to Jason? In the end, the episode just left me feeling really frustrated bc I felt like there was something I was supposed to get but I just didn’t get it.

[malk1ns]

february 8 @ flyers, 3-2 loss

we managed to skid into the two-week break without anyone else getting hurt in this game yay yippee! let's hope everyone gets healthy now because good grief.

exists in a world where the penguins still had their super bowl party at sid's on sunday the 9th instead of sid flying to montreal for four nations and geno flying to...wherever the fuck he was watching from. let's pretend that the first day of four nations practice was pushed to tuesday.

my honest reaction to the prospect of two full weeks with absolutely no sign of geno at all:

Zhenya has to begrudgingly admit that the visitor’s facilities in Philadelphia aren’t that bad.

They aren’t that good either, nothing compared to some of the newer places—Zhenya’s particularly fond of Seattle—but especially compared to places like Carolina, Philly is perfectly adequate. The locker room isn’t too cramped, the carpet doesn’t stink, the hot water works, and there’s a couch in the lounge that actually faces the TV and can fit more than one grown adult comfortably.

The couch is especially important, because the Penguins stopped requiring its scratches to watch games from the press box a few years ago and Zhenya’s never been back. Given the choice between wearing a suit and having to keep a neutral face while watching his team play without him and getting to kick back in sweatpants and swear as much and as loudly as he’d like, he’s picking the latter every time when he’s injured.

Sid, like the suck-up he is, stuck it out up above the ice for a few games, but pretty soon even he was changing out of his suit the second the cameras were gone for the game and sprawling out over whatever furniture was available, running his mouth at whoever’s stuck out with him about what’s going on in-game.

The season after Zhenya got his second knee surgery was some of the most fun he’d had while out injured, at least while Sid was doing rehab too. They spent a ton of time together, hanging around during each other’s PT times and making side bets on the games.

So, when Sid told him he’d be sitting the last two games before the break, to make sure his arm was back to 100%, Zhenya was excited. Sure, they’d be away instead of at home, but they’d be able to shit-talk the Rangers and Flyers together, and Zhenya wouldn’t have to haunt the bowels of the arenas like a ghost alone. Even better, he’d have a chance to actually spend time with Sid, who’s been acting off for months and annoyingly good at avoiding talking about it.

The Rangers game was a blast. Troy snuck them down some beers from the dad’s suite and Zhenya managed to goad Sid into some truly vicious shit-talking about New York’s entire roster. The win was the perfect cap to the day, and by the time they made it to Philly, Zhenya was ready to pass out in his hotel room with a smile on his face.

Sid was sour on Saturday, though, distracted and frowning at his phone during team breakfast and abandoning Zhenya to face the athletic trainers alone when they head to the arena for morning skate. Zhenya finally tracked him down on the ice, one of the last guys out there like always, shooting pucks at the net all alone viciously hard, with way too much force for someone who’s babying his arm in the hopes of representing his country in less than a week.

Eventually the coaches herded him off the ice. Sid was sullen on the bus back to the hotel.

“One of the caterers canceled,” he finally volunteered as they stepped off the bus and slipped into the hotel lobby. “For tomorrow, the Super Bowl,” he elaborated when Zhenya looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “They emailed me late last night and I’ve been trying to track down a replacement.”

Zhenya sighed loudly. “This why you’re such bitch?” he said, exaggerating his tone to try and eke a smile from Sid. It kind of worked. “Jesus, it’s not so serious, who cares?”

“It’s the wings guy,” Sid said grimly, and Zhenya groaned in empathy. The Pittsburgh Penguins take their chicken wings very seriously. “I think I got a lead, though. I just gotta make one more call and hopefully this gets wrapped up so I can nap.”

They’d knocked on wood at the reception desk, then gone their separate ways.

Sid hadn’t been ready for the early bus, but Zhenya went over anyway, eager to get his PT torture session over with so he could change and relax, and by the time Sid blows into the lounge Zhenya’s installed on the perfectly adequate couch, sucking down a protein shake and flicking through the channels as he waits for puck drop.

“New wings?” he asks, and Sid sneers at him. Zhenya purses his lips and shrugs, tracking Sid through the lounge as he slams open the refrigerator and digs for a snack.

“Other guy didn’t work out,” Sid says through a mouthful of granola as he drops heavily onto the couch. “Keep that on silent, I need to make a call.”

“You’re nap?” Zhenya asks, and Sid shakes his head sharply, jabbing at his phone. That explains a lot.

Sid’s on his phone through most of the first period, putting on his best aw-shucks voice as he tries to convince someone in a fifty-mile radius of Pittsburgh to whip up a couple hundred buffalo wings in under 24 hours. Zhenya half-listens, sending random Instagram reels in the Team Russia group chat and keeping an eye on the game playing out silently on the big screen across the room.

At one point, Sid gets up and paces in tight circles, and Zhenya puts his phone down to watch—Sid on the verge of a hosting-related breakdown is far more interesting than whatever jokes Kirya’s trying to make. Poor kid, he’s been out this season even longer than Zhenya has. Eventually, though, Sid drops his phone into his lap and sighs.

“All good?” Zhenya asks, passing the remote over before Sid can snatch it from his lap. 

Sid shrugs. “I found someone,” he says, but he still sounds pissy. “It was pretty far down my list, but the reviews are okay…hopefully it works out.”

“Bummer for not get usual, I’m like best,” Zheya says, stretching his legs forward and cringing when his left knee pops.

“Yeah, well, sorry about the letdown for your last ever Super Bowl party,” Sid mutters, and Zhenya whips his head around. Sid’s staring at the television with a surly look on his face.

The pieces are starting to come together. Sid’s avoidance, his odd caginess when Zhenya tries to talk about summer plans…

Over the summer, Sid and Zhenya talked a lot. Sid had been waffling about his contract extension, first wanting six years, then one, and Zhenya spent a lot of time listening as Sid talked himself into, then out of, and then back into the terms he was going to ask Pat to send to the team.

At some point, he’d tried to lighten the mood with a joke. He doesn’t remember exactly what he said, but it was something like, why not just ask for max term and if he feels like he wants to be done sooner than it expires he can just retire—Zhenya’s thinking of doing the same after this upcoming season, after all.

It hadn’t been serious. He’d thought about it; he’s still thinking about it. But he still doesn’t quite feel ready to be done with the Penguins as a player, so it’s really nothing more than a fancy, an idea he revisits when his knees ache so badly they wake him up in the middle of the night. The comment to Sid was nothing, less than a throwaway.

Sid had gone quiet, and that conversation had ended quickly. Zhenya didn’t hear from Sid for a few days. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time; they’re both busy, and Zhenya loses track of how long it’s been between travel, charity tournaments, and arguing with Anya through their lawyers.

When they got back to Pittsburgh, though, Sid was still acting off. He’s lightened up as the season’s worn on, but Zhenya still catches Sid watching him with a strange intensity sometimes. He clams up when Zhenya asks what’s wrong, neatly avoids all efforts at a serious conversation before Zhenya even realizes he’s changed the subject.

Now, though, it’s making sense.

“Sid,” Zhenya says, reaching out and trying to touch Sid’s shoulder. Sid flinches away from him. “You’re mad I make joke that maybe I retire this year? It’s not serious, like, okay I think about, but I’m still here, you know, I’m still do my best to play.”

“Whatever,” Sid snaps. He’s turning the remote over in his hands, and Zhenya wants to reach over and take it away from him. “I don’t care what you do. Go back to Russia now if you want, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Change what?” Zhenya demands, lost. Sid’s getting worked up, angry in a way that Zhenya hasn’t seen since they were much younger and Sid was less in control of his emotions. “Who’s say I go back to Russia? Maybe I move to Miami with Nikita. Maybe I stay in Pittsburgh! Jesus, Sid, what’s your problem?”

Sid snorts, turning to glare at Zhenya. “Come on,” he says, scornful. “Everyone knows you’re going to go back to Russia. You’ll move home and play for Metallurg, and once you’re back in Russia you and Anna will figure it out and get back together, and you’ll stay there until your Hall induction, and by then I won’t—” He snaps his mouth shut.

Zhenya feels like he’s scrambling to keep up with a video game he’s never played before. “Sid, I tell you, Anya and I, like, it’s done for real. We’re figure out how to be friends for Nikita, maybe, but we’re not together. Why you’re say all this? You won’t what?”

Sid presses his mouth into a flat line. His eyes flicker over Zhenya’s face, and he squares his shoulders. For a wild moment, Zhenya wonders if Sid’s going to hit him. “I won’t be able to tell you how I feel about you. I’ll have run out of time,” he says.

His words land like bricks in the quiet room. 

“Feel about…” Zhenya knows what Sid means, though, and his entire world tilts on its axis.

The entire twenty years rearrange themselves. Pieces move into place, events take on new meaning.

Sid watches him steadily. Zhenya looks back helplessly. Neither of them say another word.

[earlysunshines]

down for you

kang haerin x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you beg haerin to go to some party and 1. haerin hates parties 2. she wasn’t even invited… but if it’s you asking she’s always willing.

warnings: mentions of alcohol ; not my best work tee bee aych 💔 ; ermmm pining ; nothing else really ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: i haven't written for her yet bc no ideas LOL I prolly won't write much for her but!! this song is soooo her and the main inspo for this so yeah lololol enjoy :-p

haerin’s building is across campus from yours—a good walk and a few flights of stairs to be exact. regardless, she’s on her way there because you forgot your laptop case. 

does haerin have to be doing this? absolutely not. her building is a five minute walk from where you’ve parked, and you even told her it would be better to wait for you. still, haerin meets you halfway just so she can accompany you on the way back to your lecture room and then to your car. it’s extra cardio for haerin and more time for you, so she’s not complaining. 

“you didn’t have to come all the way here ‘rin.” you giggle, grabbing not only your laptop case, but also the pencil case you managed to forget as well. “the campus is huge.”

“it’s fine.” haerin simply responds, waiting for you to zip your bag and put it back on. she smiles when you do, then follows you back to your car—a good ten minute walk away.

the rest of the way back, haerin listens to you talk about your classes with her head tilted in your direction. when you step a little too close to the edge of the sidewalk, she reaches out, fingers catching the sleeve of your sweater in a small, familiar tug as she guids you back toward the center of the path. she keeps her eyes on your most of the way back, only glancing down once in a while when you glance back at her and to avoid tripping over the crack in the path that gets at least ten students a day. 

you two have had this routine since you became friends last semester: meeting up somewhere, walking back to the car together, and almost always studying or spending time together after your classes are over. 

(the only time you two aren’t together is when you’re in your respective buildings, time that both of you dread—it doesn’t make any sense that the engineering and public health buildings are so distanced… they’re on the same wavelength, no?)

when you finally reach your car, you’re still mid-conversation, the rhythm is easygoing just as always. but then you say something that makes haerin falter.

“i know you’re not really a party person… but my friends invited me to one this friday and they really want to meet you.”

she pauses, fingers hovering over the passenger door handle. “me?”

“yeah, you.”

she blinks, settling herself into the seat beside you. “why… me?”

“i told them about you.” you grin as if the answer is obvious.

“actually?”

“how could i not? you’re my closest friend, haerin.” you glance over at her, smiling. “it’s just a small party thing, and i wanted you to be there.”

a lot is running through haerin’s mind. why would you mention her to your friends? is this party so important that she has to go? who are these ‘friends’? what will the party be like? haerin shivers a bit. the thought of being surrounded by new people, forced into small talk, makes her a bit uneasy. there is no way she is going to this party.

but then you lean in a little, tilting your head, eyes bright and expectant, and suddenly it’s hard to say no.

“we’ll just drop by,” you add quickly, like you can sense the hesitation in the way her jaw tightens and look averts. “just for a bit. and after, i’ll treat you to ice cream.” you promise.

she doesn’t have to go to this party, but you can’t lie that after so much time with her it’s hard when she’s not at arms length your friends have even rolled their eyes at the mere mention of her just because you always have something to say about her—whether it’s something simple or unrelated to whatever you and your friends were talking about earlier.

the amount of time you spend with haerin is enough to lead to the inevitable: growing feelings. how could you not grow fond of haerin in a way that’s more than platonic? she’s pretty, soft-spoken, and caring. she caught you by surprise that moment you bumped into her during your first day of university, and now she’s someone you can’t imagine being away from. you even call her almost every night.

plus, what you feel is the same on haerin’s end. she noticed you immediately, and the fact that you two are even this close still baffles her. she’d never admit anything, though. there is nothing other than her not-so-subtle looks and actions that could reveal what she truly feels.

she bites the inside of her cheek. haerin does not want to go. but you give her the look and she crumbles at how pretty you look. she can already picture you smiling at her over a cup of ice cream afterward, laughing about whatever might happen at the party.

haerin sighs, pretending to be reluctant when she mumbles, “i mean, i guess. if you want me there… then i’ll go.”

your sigh of relief is immediate, and before haerin can brace herself, you’re leaning over and wrapping your arms around her in a quick, excited hug. she stiffens for half a second, caught off guard, before her body relaxes against yours.

she smiles into you, taking in the scent of your signature peachy scent; haerin doesn’t need a mirror to know that her face is burning. 

—

haerin is in another situation that has her face burning once more.

she’s tends to get sleepy when she’s around you, especially when you both are cozy in your bed. it didn’t take long for her to pass out on your bed once you both finished studying. usually she wakes up to either you sleeping, studying, or doomscrolling. this time it’s doomscrolling.

her little shuffle gets your attention; the pressure around your waist loosening makes you hum. you turn to see haerin blinking a few times, then rubbing her eyes.

“hey.” you giggle.

“hi.” haerin responds sleepily, letting her body go limp again as she tries to take her leg out from between both of yours—you tug her leg back, keeping it there. it’s a little intimate for ‘just friends,’ definitely. but haerin feels all warm inside and you’re, well, just you, so she doesn’t complain. you don’t seem to mind either.

“you were out for like, an hour.”

“was i?”

“mhm.” you say as you turn to face her. her eyes are a little puffy, but it’s not that noticeable, more cute than noticeable if anything. you move her hair out of her face and smile, snuggling a little closer. “you’re so pretty.”

she laughs nervously. “i just woke up.”

“yeah, and you’re pretty.”

haerin is way too sleepy to deal with this, so she instead thanks the dimmed room for concealing her blush and closes her eyes once more. her smile lingers as she moves to face the ceiling, and it deepens when she feels you scooting closer.

“what time is it?” she asks.

“five.” you mumble, yawning lightly. “party is at seven.”

oh. haerin has completely forgotten about the party after being so comfortable, and now, the sudden realization shakes her awake.

“but let’s nap a little more, i’m comfy.” you insist.

haerin is anything but sleepy right now. “are you sure we shouldn’t be getting ready? what’s the dress code? do we have to look flashy?”

“relax,” you say, draping your arm over her. “it’s just a house party. baggy jeans and a t-shirt would be more than enough if i’m going to be honest. it’s casual, nothing crazy.”

“okay…”

—

okay, maybe you shouldn’t go to that party. 

haerin just walked out of your room in a simple outfit—just like you had said—but wow, she looks so good you think that maybe you should keep her here for yourself. her hair is still a little messy from her nap as well, so she’s tied it up. you always liked her with her hair up, and down… you like her with any hairstyle.

“do i look okay for the—”

“yes.” you cut off her question. “very.” you walk over, look her up and down, then snap a picture for safe keeping.

“what was that for?”

“you look really good, haerin.”

“oh.” she says flatly, feeling a lump form in her throat. “you do too.” 

you both smile at each other for another moment, feeling the weight of the tension push you two down. 

“let’s go?” you ask, lingering in front of her.

“yeah.”

…

there’s a strange stiffness in every part of your body as you drive to the destination. haerin is in the passenger seat on her phone looking like that, like she’s just been pulled out of a magazine. at each red light you try to steal a glimpse of her, silently in awe.

once you arrive, the party is already in full swing when you and haerin step in. the music vibrates lowly throughout the air, voices overlap in bursts of laughter, and conversation accompanies the house-type tune.

your friend haewon appears out of nowhere, beaming as she throws her arms around you in a tight hug. you laugh, hugging her back just as eagerly.

“y/n! i’m glad you could make it.” haewon beams. 

“i knew you loved me.”

“okay, not too much now…” she jokes, pulling away and turning to haerin, giving her a much smaller, polite hug. haerin barely has time to react before she pulls away, grinning.

“you must be haerin?”

haerin blinks, nodding slowly. “yeah.” her voice is calm, unreadable, but you catch her ears turning pink and the way her fingers twitch slightly at her sides.

haewon gives you a knowing look before disappearing into the kitchen. 

haerin exhales, subtle but sharp, and you glance over at her. she already looks a little overwhelmed, her shoulders tense, eyes scanning the room like she’s trying to find an escape route.

you nudge her shoulder before moving further inside, holding her hand as you do so. your shoulders stay close, touching, and she doesn’t pull away. instead, she stays close, like you’re the only steady thing in this chaos of the party.

“we’ll stay just for a bit,” you assure. “i just need to say hi to some people, have small talk, and before you know we’ll be at the ice cream place you like.”

she nods, her hand tightening around yours. “okay, just a bit.”

—

it has not been just a bit. it’s been nearly an hour—fourty-seven minutes to be exact.

(haerin has been checking her phone each time you run into a new person.)

she would be lying if this whole thing weren’t interesting, though the best part about meeting all these people is them mentioning how much you mention her and watching your blush grow.

“we’ll be talking about the menu at a restaurant and she’ll mention you. i remember we were getting dessert and she pointed to something going, ‘haerin loves this.’” one of your friends jokes. “you two aren’t dating, no?”

both you and haerin simultaneously freeze, with you breaking the awkwardness with a laugh. “i– no.” you push his shoulder. 

“okay, but you do talk about her a lot.” another friend nudges, grinning. 

you blink. “do i really?”

“yeah, so much.” 

haerin shifts beside you, her usual composure slipping just slightly as she looks down. there’s a small smile on her face as she pretends to be interested in the hem of her sleeve.

the topic changes before either of you fully acknowledge it, too attentive to the tension. there’s a small warmth lingering in your chest—half embarrassment, half something else.

the rest of the night consists of haerin following you around as you bump into others, and as the night goes on the more unbearable it gets. you seem to be meeting people who aren’t your friends, maybe acquaintances? classmates? whoever they are, you seem to be completely oblivious to how often they flirt with you. 

here and there they’ll lean in, laugh a little too hard at your jokes, and angle their bodies toward you like they’re waiting for a moment to catch your attention. it’s so blatantly obvious that the past three people have been trying to please you, but you don’t notice.

haerin notices. she notices everything, but she doesn’t say anything. she just keeps her expression neutral as she stays close. she takes it because she promised herself to get through this just for you, just for tonight.

but then there’s him. 

some guy—intak, you think? some guy you recognize from your introduction to kinesiology class—confident from the drinks in his system, slides up next to you. his smile is a little too easy as he leans in, voice dropping to something lower, more deliberate. 

“wow, you’re stealing the spotlight here, you know?”

you laugh, oblivious, waving him off. “that’s not true.”

“no, seriously. you’re gorgeous.” he gives you a smirk, winking in a way that makes your brows turn in confusion. “we have a class together—kinesiology and public health analytics—i see you and i can’t help but think you’re going to the be the reason i fail. you’re so pretty.”

“aw, that’s not true.” you chuckle nervously.

he moves his hand, not quite touching you, but close enough that haerin stiffens beside you.

and that’s when haerin decides she’s had enough.

her hand snakes around your waist, pulling you away from him and earning a confused, defeated look from the guy. you turn to her in surprise at the sudden action, and also because wow your heart is beating fast from that. 

“ice cream?” she reminds you, her voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “you promised.”

you glance at her, the weight of her hand on your chest grounding you just as much as it flusters. it’s only then that you realize how long you’ve actually been at this party. 

“oh—right. okay, let’s go.”

she pulls you in closer, leading you toward the door and out, her fingers warm against you. 

—

“i’m sorry for keeping you cooped up there so long, i lost track of time.” you apologize, starting the engine of your car. 

“it’s fine.” haerin lies, sinking in the seat and turning away from you. her words feel flat, like an automatic response rather than the truth. 

anyone else would believe her, but you know her well enough to recognize the subtle signs—how she tugs at her sleeves, how her fingers tap against her knee impatiently, how she shifts just slightly as if trying to make herself smaller. you don’t push her, instead focusing on the road, letting the silence settle between you.

the drive to the ice cream shop is quiet, and when you finally park, haerin barely glances at the menu before mumbling, “strawberry is fine.”

you don’t comment on how unenthusiastic she sounds, just get the order and hand her the cup before grabbing your own little cup of mint chocolate chip. she takes it with a quiet “thanks,” and the two of you sit in your car, parked beneath a streetlight that casts a dim glow.

usually, your silences with haerin are comfortable and easy. but this one is suffocating, even the soft hum of music doesn’t ease the tension.

something unspoken lingers, and you let it continue to hang in the air for a bit, hoping she’ll say something first. she doesn’t.

with a sigh, you lower the volume of the music and glance at her. 

“okay.” you say, breaking the silence. “why are you so moody? is it because of the party? if you didn’t want to go you didn’t have to. you should’ve just told me.”

haerin’s grip on her spoon tightens, her gaze fixed on the half-melted ice cream. “i’m just tired.”

you stare at her, unimpressed. “why are you lying to me?”

she exhales through her nose but doesn’t respond. shifting in your seat, you turn fully toward her, searching her face. “i know something is up. did my friends say something off? what is it? i’ve never seen you like this before.”

she stays quiet, biting down and tensing her jaw. for a moment, you wonder if she’s going to brush you off again.

haerin exhales sharply, setting her ice cream down in the cup holder before finally turning to face you. “do people always flirt with you like that?”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden question. “huh?”

she scoffs, shaking her head. “you’re so oblivious,” she mutters. “everyone at that party—everyone but your actual friends—was flirting with you, and you didn’t even notice. you barely even reacted to intak. if i hadn’t pulled you away, you probably would’ve stayed there without a clue.”

you furrow your brows, trying to recall the interactions from earlier. “i mean… i just thought they were being nice.” you say slowly.

haerin lets out a humorless laugh, like she can’t believe how clueless you are. 

you tilt your head at her, watching the way she pokes at her ice cream aggressively even if it’s half soup at this point. “why is it such a big deal?”

“it’s— it’s not.” she looks away, but there’s something in her tone, something in the way her fingers tighten around the fabric of her top.

you narrow your eyes. “wait—” you lean in slightly, voice dropping. “are you jealous?” it almost sounds like you’re teasing, but the curiosity in your tone is overpowering.

haerin stiffens, the tips of her ears turning red. “no, why would i be jealous?”

that’s a lie.

your eyes widen as realization dawns, and you nudge her arm, your teasing smile growing. “you are jealous.”

she glares at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but you can see the way she swallows hard like she’s debating whether to keep denying it or not. you’ve never seen her so nervous.

you press further, pushing past the hesitation between you. “why would you even be jealous over people flirting with me?”

haerin exhales, long and slow, before finally mumbling, “because…”

“because?” you echo, urging her to continue.

“it just— i can’t, y/n. can we go home? my things are at your place and i need to get home.”

“it’s a friday.”

“y/n, please.”

you frown, deciding to stop yourself from pressing on further to keep haerin from getting overwhelmed again. you hesitate before shifting the car to ‘drive,’ catching haerin turning her body away from you completely in your peripheral.

—

it’s completely silent from there on out. whatever happened in the car was the closest thing you’ve ever gotten to a fight with her, and you don’t know how to deal with it. when you reach your place, you unlock the door and let haerin go first, not exchanging a single word. 

haerin immediately grabs her bag from where she left it near your desk. she moves with purpose, like she’s trying to get out of here as soon as possible, but you can’t just let her leave like that. not when she’s in your place.

“haerin,” you call, and when she doesn’t turn, you step closer. “are you seriously jealous over people flirting with me?”

she huffs, finally looking at you. “it’s ridiculous, right?”

“yeah,” you say as you cross your arms. “you’re the most gorgeous, amazing person i know. they should’ve been flirting with you instead, i don’t know why they were doing it with me.”

haerin’s eyes widen slightly, her lips parting like she wasn’t expecting that. your assumption starts to make sense in her head: you think that she’s jealous because people were flirting with you and not her. you’re completely off, and before she can interrupt, you start again.

“i saw some people checking you out too. i overheard people saying that you’re pretty from my friends while you went to the bathroom and—” you step closer. “why would you ever be jealous over people flirting with me?”

she lets go of her bag now, jaw clenching before she finally exhales. “it’s not because they were flirting with you,” she mutters. “or because i want to be flirted with.” she shakes her head, eyes meeting yours with something raw in them. “it’s because they can say all of this while i can’t.” 

your breath catches. 

haerin licks her lips, voice quieter now. “i like you.” she swallows, avoiding eye contact. “i’ve been stressing about it for the past month or two. and tonight just… seeing ho weasily people say those things to you, knowing i’ve been thinking you’re so pretty and sweet before they even—” she exhales sharply. “i hate when people flirt with you because i like you.”

your heart stutters in your chest. the weight of her words turns a gear in your brain. everything feels real, and you suddenly feel breathless. kang haerin likes you. 

“haerin,” you murmur. “i— you do?”

“i’m sorry.” 

“no, no.” you stop her, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just— everytime i’d see people looking at you like… i don’t know, like they wanted you or something, i’d get this weird jealousy as well.”

“why?” haerin questions.

“haerin, i like you too.” you admit through an exasperated chuckle. “i go out of my way to spend time with you and everything because i like you. sometimes we’re laying in my bed or getting food together and i think, i just, i always wished it were something more than platonic.”

her breath catches, taken aback by the sudden confession. her eyes search yours for any sign that you’re messing with her, but all she finds is sincerity. 

“you do?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

“haerin, i like you so much.”

and then she exhales, relief and something softer washing over her features. she steps over to hug you, burying her face in your neck.

“i’m— i’m sorry for being so moody.”

“it’s okay.” you laugh, hugging her tightly. “i would’ve been the same if someone were flirting with you.”

you two pull away then, hands still on each other and faces now inches apart. everything around you stops, but the beating in your heart speeds up when you’re met with her features. 

on impulse, you sneak a quick kiss, pulling away immediately and feeling your cheeks burn. 

haerin’s eyes widen before she giggles, moving her hands to cup your cheeks properly and kissing you sweetly. the taste of strawberry ice cream lingers on her lips, making the moment sweeter. she parts, her lips ghosting yours, and you smile.

“are we moving too fast?” you ask.

“i– i don’t know. i’ve never… i—” you cut haerin off with another kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“i think this is fine. i wanted to um… do this before we left my place but…”

haerin laughs, smiling at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “well now you can… do it as much as you’d like. i like you a lot y/n.”

“i like you a lot too, haerin.”

[dearweirdme]

Sorry I'm sure you're tired of the airport head kiss asks. But my opinion is that if it were ANY other pairing from BTS everyone would most likely be agreeing it was a kiss. But since it's taekook ppl need to argue that it's anything but. It's exhausting being a tkkr sometimes... 🙄

Hi anon!

I think the issue is, that people think we’re claiming a definite romantic acts here.. and they’re partly right.. because within my believes about Tae and Jk I do think there’s things they do that are romantic. I don’t claim this moment as something inherently romantic though, but rather of their closeness and how they want to show that. That one anon’s ‘openly kissing in a public place’ is willfully turning our thoughts into something they are not. They wouldn’t say something like this about Tae kissing Jin on his head during a live.

Going to go a bit ranty here, because yesterday’s conversation has me thinking a lot…

None of the tkkrs I know are on here trying to figure out whether it’s Taekook or if it’s jikook. I’m sure there’s a subsection of fandom somewhere where that happens, but it’s very far from what we encounter here. It’s also not a mindset that I find agreeable, because it seems to originate from wanting to ship in general rather than actually seeing something special between two persons. What I am doing here and what most of us are doing here is looking at Tae and Jk and thinking about the extent of their relationship. Jkk is not a factor in that at all. For me Jm’s place in this is as both Jk and Tae’s friend and bandmember. Jkk as a fandom is spoken about because that fandom causes false narratives and hate, not because their ship ‘triggers me because deep inside I know it’s real’.

Talk about closeting comes with a lot of grey area imo. There’s a big deal of space between someone in a country where there’s a death penalty for being queer and who’s closeted and someone being closeted because their advisors tell them it’s bad for business. Both are horrible imo, and both can be extremely damaging on a personal level. It’s hard to speak about being privileged when it come to a closeted person, but at the same time I think such privilege does exist. It exists because aside from being queer.. there’s other factors that make up a person. Tae and Jk have the privilege of wealth and of having a great network of friends and family. I love knowing they have this privilege. I think it allows them some peace in a messed up situation that has harmed them immensely. I think they would have been out had it not been for their careers. Neither one of them is actually afraid of being seen as queer imo. What they’re afraid of is losing their careers and the effect it will have on BTS as a whole and the good they do through BTS. It’s also very much a question if their contract (which will have image clauses) allows them to be out at all. When I look at Tae especially, he’s not been afraid to show his queer self at all.. so I think there’s space that allows for signals.

I see their situation like this: there are things they definitely can’t do. Living together publicly, enlisting together, obviously romantic acts like kissing on the lips, telling the world they are queer, things that fall in that category in general.

There are also things Hybe hasn’t allowed, but that I feel would have been manageable. A taekook collab. Being portrayed as close friends throughout.

The grey area would be things that shows them as close, but not necessarily romantically involved. This is a huge area in my opinion and the reason why there’s so much discussion on ‘are they, aren’t they’. It’s why at times we see things that make us go 😳 (like hearing a person sleep next to Tae, and the sweetheart shirts, and the airport kiss, and Jk flying to Hawaii) but other times we have mentions of ‘why doesn’t Jk support Tae more’. It’s stuff that’s highly dependent on moments. Stuff that has temporary impact, but not much in the long run (like enlisting together will have).

This is what I apply to both Tkk and Jkk. There are things that I know can’t happen and there’s grey space.

Imagine for a bit being them. Being young, in one of the most popular bands in the world, still on a rise to more fame…. And you fall in love with each other. So deeply in love, it’s impossible not to be together, because you aren’t even able to stay away on a practical level. The company catches on.. what does your boss tell you? Does he tell you to hide and be professional or else you’re putting your (and your member’s) career at risk? Or does your boss go and allow you to publish footage of your romantic getaway to Tokyo for everyone to see? Does your boss give you boundaries to what you can do together or does he put a spotlight on the two of you as a duo?

It is exhausting to be a tkkr at times. I know I have gone through periods of huge fandom fatigue (honestly have only found pleasure in blogging back only recently) because of it. The exhaustion that comes from people trying to place what we say in black and whites, people willfully bending our words or only pointing out one specific sentence without looking at what we say as a whole. Tkk is a very sensitive topic for many. I try to balance my own peace and allowing for interesting conversations and different opinions, but it is hard at times. I’m at times too trusting, at times too reactive, at times I do get triggered. What’s helped me a lot though is just keeping my focus on Tae and Jk. Them together, but also them as individuals just give me such joy.. that truly trumps fandom shenanigans for me every time.

[rik0shii]

Kang daesung x fem!reader who's just as chaotic as he is!! both of them always prank the older members in YG and teasing the younger ones(aka CL and minzy lol) until they're annoyed <3

I'm literally so grateful that you and the other writers decided to write for bigbang bcs if not we wouldn't have SO MANY finger lickin good fics of them especially MY KING DAESUNG‼️we need more ppl appreciating these cuties fr🔥

Double Trouble Couple

You and Daesung, the Double Trouble Couple, are always up to playful mischief. In this moment, you prank Taeyang by changing his phone’s lock screen to a funny meme, all while teasing CL and Minzy. Amidst the chaos, sweet couple moments shine through, showing how perfectly you and Daesung balance fun and affection.

(Kang Daesung x Chaotic!Fem!Reader)

hii tysm for requesting!! YESS WE DO NEED MORE BB FANFICS!! as a vip since 2018 i have to do them justice!!also, daesung is my bias😖😖! reposts and comments are appreciated!!

Another day at YG, and the Double Trouble Couple was ready to spread their usual brand of fun and chaos. You and Daesung were masters at balancing sweet couple moments with just the right amount of harmless mischief.

You were lying on the couch in the practice room, scrolling through your phone, while Daesung sat next to you, absentmindedly flipping through a magazine. It was one of those rare moments when things were calm — but you knew it wouldn’t last long.

You glanced up at Daesung, a mischievous grin forming on your lips. “Hey, babe, I have an idea. Let’s mess with Taeyang for a minute.”

Daesung’s face lights up with that same glint of mischief. “What do you have in mind?”

You giggled. “What if we rearranged his phone background to something really ridiculous? Like… one of those puppy memes that say ‘When you’re too cute for this world’ or something equally cringe-worthy.”

Daesung laughs, shaking his head. “That’s perfect. He’s gonna be so confused when he sees it.”

You both sneak over to Taeyang’s bag, where his phone was lying. With the stealth of two professional pranksters, you quickly change his lock screen to the cringiest meme you could find — a baby panda trying to look tough, paired with the text: ‘Me: 1% scary, 99% adorable.’ You high-five each other in excitement.

Daesung chuckles. “He’s not going to know what hit him.”

As you return to your spot, trying to act completely innocent, you notice CL and Minzy talking nearby. You can already tell by their facial expressions that they’re waiting for the moment to see what kind of chaos you and Daesung have planned.

CL crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow at you. “What did you two do this time? I’m getting that ‘we’re about to get pranked’ vibe.”

You smile sweetly. “What? Us? We’re just being cute.”

Daesung leans in, acting all innocent. “Yeah, we’re perfectly innocent. We wouldn’t do anything… mischievous.”

Minzy shakes her head. “You two are trouble.”

“Are we?” you reply, looking at Daesung with a grin. “We’re just adorable trouble, aren’t we?”

Just then, Taeyang walks back into the room, holding his phone and looking at it with furrowed brows. “What the heck is this?”

You try and fail to hold back your laughter. Daesung pats you on the back, trying to act like he’s unaffected.

“Taeyang, are you okay?” you ask, feigning concern. “It’s just a meme, right? I mean, who could resist the cuteness of a baby panda?”

Daesung laughs, nudging you playfully. “The real question is, why isn’t he taking the compliment? I mean, 1% scary and 99% adorable? Who wouldn’t want that on their phone?”

Taeyang looks at the two of you, an eyebrow raised. “You guys are so childish.”

You grin, a little too sweetly. “Maybe, but we’re just spreading some love around here.”

Daesung throws his arm around you and laughs. “Yeah, love and glitter. We’re basically the best at it.”

CL is trying to hold in her giggles, but Minzy can’t stop laughing. “Honestly, it’s cute. You two are just evil sometimes.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a sweet smile.

Later on, after the laughs have died down and Taeyang finally changes his lock screen back, the four of you fall into a comfortable silence. But, you know it won’t last long. Not with you and Daesung around.

As you and Daesung sit next to each other, your legs touching, there’s a softness in the air. You glance at him, and he turns to look at you. Without a word, he leans in and kisses the side of your head, his hand gently resting on yours.

“You know,” Daesung says softly, his voice filled with warmth, “I love this. Just being with you, messing around, making everyone laugh. It feels… right.”

You smile up at him, your heart swelling. “Me too. We make the perfect team.”

His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “Yeah, we do. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You can’t help but laugh, squeezing his hand. “Lucky? You’ve definitely earned it. I’m basically chaos in human form.”

He laughs with you, then pulls you closer, his arm draped around your shoulder. “You’re my chaos, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Minzy, who had been watching the two of you, sighs dramatically. “It’s so cute, but honestly, it’s annoying how you two just work together.”

You grin at her, teasing. “What can we say? It’s called couple goals.”

Daesung laughs, his arm tight around you as he responds, “Honestly, we make being cute look too easy.”

CL rolls her eyes but can’t stop herself from smiling. “You two should really calm down with the couple energy. I’m literally single here, and it’s giving me a toothache.”

“I can’t help it,” you say with a grin. “Daesung is just too adorable.”

Daesung playfully bumps you with his shoulder. “Don’t go too hard, babe. I’m already a heartbreaker.”

As the evening goes on, the playful teasing continues — but so do the quiet, affectionate moments between you and Daesung. Whether it’s the way he gently brushes your hair out of your face or the way you both share secret smiles across the room, there’s an undeniable connection between the two of you.

And even though you’re both little troublemakers, in this moment, it feels like the calmest chaos — just the way you like it.

[carpenoctxrn]

a hoax, a bait, a challenge (Ominis Gaunt x fem!reader) Part 2

Disclaimer: mentions of face-sitting, boob-job, horny Ominis, horny reader.

AN: Okay I think I will do one more part. And yes I like making Ominis obsessed with the reader because I like them possessive...

Word Count: 8426

Masterlist

Ominis Gaunt strode through the library, his wand tapping lightly against the floor with the faint click-click-click that echoed in the quiet room. The sun bathed the far corner in golden light, his preferred spot, where the rays would warm his back as he worked through the labyrinth of notes and textbooks. But as he approached, something felt… off.

Someone was sitting in his seat.

He sighed. “Sebastian? Why aren’t you in class?” he called out, setting his stack of books down with a deliberate thud.

“Didn’t feel like it,” Sebastian replied lazily, his mouth half-full of an apple as he flipped through a worn tome.

Ominis ran his fingers over the chair next to him before sitting, exhaling sharply. “Why am I not surprised?” he muttered, his tone tinged with exasperation. “Please, keep yourself entertained. I have actual work to do, and I’d rather not get swept into one of your scandals today.”

“Scandal?” Sebastian asked with mock offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Ominis retorted, already busying himself with his textbook. His wand traced the Braille like enchantments on the page, one hand gliding across the text while the other jotted notes in impeccable handwriting.

For a while, the only sounds were the scratching of quill on parchment and the occasional crunch of Sebastian’s apple. But then, from somewhere behind them came the unmistakable sound of giggling.

Ominis stiffened. “Merlin’s beard, that’s distracting,” he muttered, his jaw tightening as the laughter grew louder.

Sebastian smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like someone found this month’s issue of Haughty Witches and Naughty Snitches,” he said, the amusement clear in his voice.

Ominis paused mid-sentence, his brow furrowing. “The what now?”

“Oh, come on,” Sebastian said, sitting upright with sudden enthusiasm. “You remember the first time we found a copy? Fourth year, I think it was. Or was it third?”

“I’m choosing not to dignify this conversation with a response,” Ominis deadpanned, his focus snapping back to his notes.

“Don’t give me that look, Ominis. It’s a natural part of life,” Sebastian said smugly.

“Yes, Sebastian, I agree that sex is a natural part of life,” Ominis replied coolly, “but a woman performing pull-ups with her-” he hesitated, his face turning pink, “...her assets out is not.”

“She was doing a challenge! That takes skill, Ominis. Skill and dedication,” Sebastian said, shaking his head at his friend, making his blind friend feel as if he doesn’t recognize talent or dedication.

“Speaking of challenges,” Ominis said, his tone suddenly lighter, “did you know I’m currently participating in one myself?”

Sebastian straightened, intrigued. “Oh? You? Participating in a challenge?”

“Yes. My dear girlfriend bet me that I couldn’t keep my hands off her for a week. Naturally, I countered with the same bet. She’s convinced I’ll cave first,” Ominis said, the corners of his mouth curling into an amused smile.

Sebastian stared at him for a long moment before placing a solemn hand on his shoulder. “Ominis, you’re going to lose.”

Ominis blinked in surprise. “What? That’s absurd. If anyone has self-control, it’s me. Between the two of us— ”

“Stop right there,” Sebastian interrupted, leaning closer with an almost pitying expression. “Ominis, do you remember two months ago when she left for three days?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Ominis asked, already growing defensive.

Sebastian’s smirk widened. “You turned into a bloody menace. You walked straight into a Quidditch match, while it was in progress, just to Accio the Snitch and blow it to bits. Your excuse? ‘The first years were making too much noise.’”

“Well, they were— ”

“It was their first win of the season! They had every right to cheer!”

Ominis opened his mouth to retort, but Sebastian wasn’t finished.

“And let’s not forget the second game of the season. You were all smiles, eating stale popcorn with a pleasant expression because she was sitting right there next to you. Coincidence? I think not.”

“That’s just basic decency, Sebastian. Good company should always be appreciated,” Ominis said, lifting his chin in defiance.

“Sure, sure,” Sebastian said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Except Imelda swears she saw her limping that day, and according to her, you’re quite the—how did she put it—‘big guy.’”

Ominis froze. His quill stopped mid-dip into the ink, and a scarlet blush crept across his face.

Sebastian grinned wickedly. “Face it, Ominis. You’re doomed.”

“And why is my handsome boyfriend doomed?” Her voice chimed from behind, soft and lilting, but carrying just enough edge to tease. The sound made both boys pause, but it was the warmth of her touch that pulled Ominis’ attention completely. She slipped up beside him, her presence as familiar and comforting as the sunlight streaming through the library windows.

Ominis felt the heat creep up his neck as he turned toward her, his cheeks tinged pink, a rare sight on his typically pale, freckled complexion. Unless of course when they otherwise occupied in their relationship, Ominis never blushed. “My love, you’re out early,” he said, his voice softer now as he stood and reached for her.

She came to him effortlessly, as if drawn by some magnetic pull. He placed his hands lightly on her waist, her hands sliding up to rest on his neck. The kiss she gave him was quick and light, yet it lingered in his mind like the taste of something sweet.

“You can thank Garreth for that,” she replied with a small laugh as she slipped into the chair Ominis had already pulled out for her, ever the gentleman.

Sebastian raised a skeptical brow. “But you weren’t even in Potions,” he pointed out, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement.

“True,” she admitted, smoothing her robes as she sat. “But unfortunately for everyone in Divination, there’s tea, and Garreth Weasley has an endless supply of recipes in that head of his.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course he does. That boy would turn a funeral into a brewing experiment.”

As the two chatted, her fingers drifted toward Ominis’ hand resting on the table. It was a habit of hers, one Ominis adored. She would absentmindedly trace the lines of his palm or run her fingertips along his knuckles. Only this time, it was different.

Her fingers found his fingers—the same two that had been intimately acquainted with her last night. She trailed them with deliberate strokes, her touch feather-light but undeniably intentional.

Ominis froze. His mind betrayed him, conjuring vivid images: her flushed face, her breathless gasps, the way her doe eyes locked with his as she-

“Are you alright, Omi?” she asked sweetly, her hands sliding up to rest on his neck. The coolness of her touch made him jump ever so slightly, jolting him from his thoughts.

Her tone was syrupy, laced with mischief, and he knew- oh, he knew - she was doing this on purpose.

Sebastian, sharp as ever, leaned forward with a wicked grin. “Yeah, you’re looking a little… flushed, Ominis,” he teased, drawing out the last word.

Ominis’ jaw tightened. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Sebastian?” he bit out, his dead eyes boring into his friend with a sharpness that could cut glass. Even without sight, Ominis’ piercing gaze was enough to make Sebastian straighten, a shiver running down his spine.

“All right, all right. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,I’m leaving.” Sebastian stood, still chuckling as he grabbed his half-eaten apple and the tome he’d been leafing through. “Though I do need to find Weasley and ask how he pulled that off.”

“Check the Divination classroom,” she called after him, her tone perfectly pleasant. “He’s probably still cleaning up the mess.”

“Noted,” Sebastian said with a wink before sauntering off, his laughter echoing faintly as he disappeared among the shelves.

The moment he was out of earshot, she turned back to Ominis, her movements quick and deliberate. The soft strands of her hair brushed against his cheek as she did, sending a shiver down his spine.

“So,” she said, her voice low and teasing as her smirk spread wide. “Why are you doomed, Ominis?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. “I was hoping you hadn’t heard that part.”

“Oh, but I did,” she purred, leaning closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “And I want to know everything.”

“Sebastian thought the challenge assuming,” Ominis spoke truthfully as he began gathering his books and quills. 

“He thinks that I don’t have the capacity to regulate my emotions without…” his word halted as his actions did so “release.”

Ominis’ voice was smooth, steady, and entirely too composed. It caught his girlfriend off guard, especially since she was expecting the usual hint of rosy embarrassment to bloom on his pale, freckled cheeks. Normally, the mere whisper of anything remotely intimate, specifically involving him, was enough to send his carefully curated poise toppling faster than a tipsy Prewett on a broomstick.

This time, however, there was no such reaction. Instead, Ominis spoke with a calmness that unsettled her, as if he had mastered some secret she wasn’t privy to.

Her eyes flicked up to his face, searching for any trace of the usual pink hue or flustered demeanor, but all she found was his characteristic serene expression. She hesitated, suddenly unsure how to respond. “Oh,” she mumbled, her voice quieter than she intended, as she clutched his notes close to her chest. Basically embracing it to herself.

Ominis suppressed the smirk threatening to creep onto his face, savoring her rare moment of uncertainty. He didn’t press, letting the silence stretch just long enough to leave her wondering before he reached for his heavier books.

As they rounded a corner, their sides brushed together in that effortless way they always did when walking side by side. Ominis leaned just slightly closer, his movements subtle, as though the proximity were accidental. But it wasn’t.

His nose caught a whiff of her familiar scent; something soft and warm, with a hint of lavender. He breathed in a little deeper, savoring the way it wrapped around him, filling his lungs like a comforting charm. The corners of his lips twitched upward.

He loved her. Every little thing about her, from her laugh to the way she fit so perfectly beside him. And while he didn’t mind losing their playful wager it didn’t stop him from relishing moments like this. Moments where he could get the upper hand, even if only for a second.

“Sebastian,” he began, his tone light and conversational, “is wrong about most things. This time is no different.”

The casual dismissal caught her attention, and she glanced up at him with a raised brow, only to find his expression completely neutral. His delivery was so nonchalant it was impossible to tell if he meant the words or if he was simply trying to get under her skin.

Before she could form a response, Ominis tapped his wand, sending the library door swinging open with a practiced ease. He stepped aside, gesturing subtly for her to go first.

“After you, my love,” he said, his voice dipping just slightly into a warmer tone that sent a shiver down her spine. It was her who was now basically turning red.

Her steps faltered briefly as she passed through the doorway, her mind racing to decipher whether he was teasing her, challenging her, or simply enjoying her confusion. She turned her head to glance back at him, and though his unseeing eyes remained forward, the faintest smirk played at his lips.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that Ominis was toying with her. It was subtle, in the way he spoke and carried himself, but she knew him well enough to notice. Her thoughts drifted briefly to the time she had confessed something… unexpected.

She had told him outright that his gentlemanly nature turned her on more effectively than a Lumos charm lit up a pitch-black corridor. The shock on his face had been priceless. “These are the bare minimum,” he had said, looking genuinely baffled by her declaration. She’d replied in her own way—by dropping to her knees and showing him just how much she appreciated his “bare minimum.” That memory still lingered, vivid and unshakable.

Before she could get lost in those thoughts, she cleared her throat, the flush rising in her cheeks betraying her composure.

“Are you all right?” Ominis asked, his voice warm and amused. He didn’t need to see her to know exactly why she sounded so flustered.

“Something in my throat,” she muttered, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

Ominis chuckled softly but didn’t comment, choosing instead to savor her bashful tone. He loved these moments, where her sharp wit gave way to sweet timidity.

As they reached the doors leading outside, Ominis suddenly turned the other way, heading toward the familiar path leading to the Slytherin dorms.

“Omi,” she called after him, quickening her pace to catch up. “Lunch is this way.”

“Yes, love, I know,” he replied calmly, his wand tapping lightly against the stone floor. “But I thought it’d be wise to drop off my supplies before dinner.”

She caught up, falling into step beside him. “And?” she pressed, sensing there was more to his diversion.

“And,” he added, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks, “I have a gift for you.” His tone softened, and his unseeing eyes seemed to gleam with something that made her heart flutter.

Her curiosity ignited instantly. “What is it?” she asked without hesitation.

Ominis laughed at her eagerness, the sound light and genuine. “You’re impatient as ever.”

“I’m just a curious girl,” she mumbled, a slight pout forming on her lips as they continued toward the dorms.

And then the questions began. “Is it white?” she asked, tilting her head in thought.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ominis replied smoothly, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Oh, right,” she muttered with a grin. “You’re more blind than first years helping Garreth brew potions in exchange for those god-awful crude magazines.”

Ominis chuckled, shaking his head. “A generous comparison, but I like to think I’m slightly more competent than they are.”

She giggled, but her curiosity wouldn’t let up. “Can you touch it?”

Ominis gave her a look before he raised an eyebrow “Like most gifts i give, yes you can.” he spoke softly trying not to showcase his notorious Gaunt annoyance at stupidity.

If Sebastian had been the one to ask such an absurd question, Ominis knew exactly how he’d respond.

“Sebastian,” he’d say in his most exasperated tone, “sometimes when you speak, you force me to believe that you fell off your broomstick and hit your head on every branch of the Whomping Willow.”

His girlfriend couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. “I guess that was quite the ‘Sebastian question,’” she quipped, clearly amused by her own joke.

“You guessed correctly,” Ominis replied with a chuckle, shaking his head as he imagined Sebastian’s affronted face. The conversation dissolved into soft laughter, and for a time, their walk fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the quiet hum of her voice.

It was a tune Ominis recognized—a jaunty melody she must have picked up from one of the castle’s many eccentric portraits. Specifically, a portrait named Salamander.

Salamander was a younger-looking wizard, forever captured in the prime of his life, whose painting hung in a hallway near the Astronomy Tower. Despite his best efforts to rise above petty feelings like jealousy, Ominis couldn’t stop the irritation bubbling up at the sound of that blasted tune.

“Mind changing the tune, love?” he asked as they rounded another corner, keeping his voice calm and even.

“Sorry, Omi,” she said, her tone light and unbothered. “I was just talking to Mander about constellations and how stars change over the centuries. We had quite the conversation. At first, he thought it was because the Earth is flat, but I explained why that’s not true.”

Her voice carried on, animated and carefree, as if she didn’t notice Ominis stiffening slightly beside her.

He wasn’t hearing anything after the word Mander. Mander. She’d given him a nickname.

His jaw tightened. Nicknames were a rare and precious thing, and the only two men privileged enough to have them were Ominis Gaunt himself and Sebastian Sallow. And now now this Salamander had joined their exclusive club? His thick brows twitched as her cheerful recounting of her conversation went on and on and on about that irritating portrait.

“He sounds absolutely delightful,” Ominis said finally, his tone tight as he worked to keep his jealousy at bay. “Though I suspect he must’ve been dropped as an infant—several times, at least.”

She didn’t catch the bite in his words. Instead, she smiled, trotting a little faster to keep up with his suddenly longer strides. “Oh, he’s wonderful, Omi. And he’s a poet!” she added with a bright enthusiasm that only made the knot in his chest tighten.

“He wrote me a poem about how my eyes remind him of the stars,” she said, her voice dreamy. “It was soooo beautiful. I wish I could remember it word for word.”

Ominis’ grip on his wand tightened imperceptibly, and his jaw clenched so hard he thought it might crack. Of course this Mander had written her a poem. Of course, it had been about her eyes. He was a painting, for Merlin’s sake, an inanimate object! Yet here he was, swooping in with flowery words and lofty metaphors.

“How… poetic of him,” Ominis managed to say, his voice strained as his long strides carried them faster toward the dorms.

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You’re walking so fast, are you all right?”

“Perfectly fine,” he replied curtly. “Just eager to get back.”

Her confusion melted into a soft smile as she caught up to him, slipping her arms into the crevice of his elbow. “You’re adorable when you’re in a hurry, you know that?”

Ominis faltered slightly at her words, his tense expression softening. He exhaled, his lips twitching upward into a small, reluctant smile. His strides now matching her pace.

“Adorable, am I?” he asked, his tone lighter now.

“Absolutely,” she teased, squeezing his hand. “Though I still think Mander would have something to say about it.”

His smile froze. Mander again.

Ominis swore that painting would be moved to the darkest, most forgotten hallway in Hogwarts before the week was out.

Before Ominis could fully plot where Salamander’s portrait would meet its unfortunate relocation, Leander Prewett’s voice rang out, startling both of them.

“Oi! What are the lovebirds up to?” Leander called, swaggering over with a smirk as he glanced between them.

She turned toward him, blinking in surprise. “Leander,” she greeted, her tone curious. “What do you want?”

“Nothing much,” he said, eyeing them with a grin. “Just wondering if you two are up to anything interesting.”

“Oh, you know,” she said breezily, her lips twitching into a mischievous grin. “Just making Ominis jealous of Salamander.”

Ominis stopped dead in his tracks, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to full-blown betrayal. His pale freckled face twisted into a scowl that screamed, How dare you.

Leander frowned, clearly baffled. “The painting?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to connect the dots.

“Exactly,” she replied, giving a small, conspiratorial nod.

Meanwhile, Ominis’ frustration simmered just below the surface. “Can we help you, Prewett?” he snapped, his tone sharp and utterly devoid of patience.

“Oh, not you, Gaunt,” Leander said dismissively, waving a hand as though Ominis wasn’t even there. “I need your girlfriend.”

Ominis’ grip on his wand tightened, but before he could respond, Leander reached into his robe and produced a neatly wrapped package. It was wrapped in black, silk-like paper and topped with a bright yellow bow.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and took the package from him. “Who’s this for?” she asked, turning it over in her hands before noticing the name written in tidy handwriting. “Imelda?”

“Of course,” Leander said, puffing his chest out slightly as if proud of himself.

Her lips twitched, and she leaned in closer to inspect the gift. “Oh, Poppy’s going to have a field day with this,” she murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.

“What was that?” Leander asked, leaning forward, his confusion deepening.

“Nothing,” she said smoothly, slipping the package into the deep, enchanted pocket of her robe with a quick flick of her wand. “I’ll give it to her when I see her.”

“Thanks,” Leander said with a satisfied nod. “And make sure to tell her it’s from her secret admirer, yeah?” With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered off, clearly proud of his efforts.

As soon as he was out of earshot, her face split into a wide grin, her mind already racing with the chaos this would undoubtedly cause.

Ominis, still by her side, tilted his head toward her. “What’s the smirk for, love?” he asked, his tone curious as he guided them back toward the path leading to the dungeons.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, though her voice was laced with amusement. “Just thinking about how karma works.”

Ominis arched a brow but didn’t press further. They walked in companionable silence, their steps muffled as they moved through the shadowy halls. The air grew cooler as they descended, and the torchlight flickered faintly against the stone walls.

She glanced around, noticing the path they were taking. Her grin widened when she realized he was sneaking her into his room. Ominis was weaving through the less-traveled corridors to avoid detection, leading her deeper into Slytherin territory.

“Ominis,” she whispered, her tone playful, “are you sneaking me into the boys-only dormitory?”

Ominis smirked, a rare, devilish gleam lighting up his pale features. “Perhaps,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and teasing. “We could not go, if you wish to not receive your present?”

She laughed, her voice soft and melodic, and slipped her hand into his. “Okay, okay I’ll bite,” she said, squeezing his hand gently as they disappeared into the shadows.

The light echoes of their footsteps became a comforting sound in the abandoned hallway, the tune she hummed now was one from a candy from honey dukes. Ominis forgot the name of the candy but he knew exactly how it tasted in her mouth.

As they ascended up towards the dorm and made some quick and swift turns at the corner. The pair finally at ease as they entered Ominis and Sebastians shared dormitories. 

“Go sit on my bed love, I will come back with the gift.” Ominis said as he set his study books on his study table before heading towards his closet. Opening it his suits and robes are all hanging. All looked pristine.

HIs girlfriend was seated on his bed as she observed his figure. The light from the lantern nearby illuminates his feature in a glow that mimicked the setting rays of sunshine. His pale skin and platinum hair looked ethereal. His features are so soft and delicate. 

“Here it is,” he said as he picked up a neatly folded stack of clothes. 

“What is Omi? What did you get me?” His girlfriend asked, now more excited than ever.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm, knowing very well that he really should just give him the gift than making her wait.

As her hands held on to the delicate and soft fabric of silk her eyes widened.

“This is lingerie, Ominis!” She said as she looked at him.

“Yes it is my love, keen observation.” Ominis spoke as his eyes had a flutter of tease and amusement in it.

“Well Ominis I am unsure if you heard me correctly yesterday but yo-” Before she could reiterate the rules of the challenge Ominis interrupted.

“There is no rule against gift giving.” He said softly as he sat on his study chair. His mind materialises the image of the girl looking at him rather than the lingerie in her hand.

“..I suppose.” She mumbled as she felt the fabric slip and soothe her fingers with its coolness.

“What color is it my love?” Ominis asked.

“It’s black.” She said with a smile on her face as she appreciated the intricate lace and all.

“I figured it since it smelt of ink and lavender. That's why I bought it, it reminded me of you.” He said with a slight pink on his face.

An idea streamed its way inside his girlfriend's head.

“Hmm.. it’ll be a shame for me to wait a whole week before I could wear such a thoughtful gift.” She said teasingly.

Ominis raised an eyebrow before asking “What are you getting at love?”

“I think I would like to wear this now, Omi be a dear and turn around would you please?” she asked with a smile.

“I believe that is a violation of the rules you set upon us.” He said feeling as if his gifts may have backfired.

“There was nothing about getting naked in each other's proximity.” She said softly as she came closer to where he was seated.

She placed her hands on his thighs, as she kissed his lips softly. The intimate action was welcomed. Her lips captured him in a slow kiss as if to say thank you.

“Thank you for the gift Omi,” she whispered in her ears before she kissed it.

Ominis just kept turning red. His body felt hot and his mind felt fuzzy.

What was he thinking? He brought the hottest girl he knows into his dorms, to give her lingerie as a gift all the while he is participating in a challenge with said girl of celibacy for a week.

He practically dug himself the hole for him to lie in.

“Turn around Omi,” she said in a voice feigning annoyance. As she walked over to the bed, her back to the boy behind her, she began to undress.

Her rob was the first to hit the ground below her, then her tie, then her white shirt. And Ominis felt his heart skip a beat as she came into her mind. Now clad in her skirt, socks and shoes but her back was naked. His little minx of a girlfriend forgot her bra. Then came time to take off her skirt and Ominis couldn’t help but hold his breath. He felt the familiar rush of blood through his body, the familiar knot in his throat, and the knowing heat that brewed in his stomach. 

He was getting aroused. 

“You know I was scared that I would be late for breakfast, so I just didn’t wear my knickers or my bra.” She said casually as she took off her skirt. Bending over a bit. The image of her supple skin glistening in the light came into view and Ominis finally realized what he was challenging himself to not do for a week.

He basically challenged himself to not caress her soft meaty thighs as he buried - no he can’t. He can't reminisce about what he can’t do, because then he will do it. Yes he had great restraint in the outside world but this was his dormitory for heaven's sake. He is sure that he has tainted this room more than Sebastian, and that is a fact.

Another image invaded Ominis’ mind— his girlfriend standing before his mirror, adorned in the black silk panties that clung a little snug to her hips, the delicate lace tracing patterns against her soft skin. She reached behind her, fingers expertly hooking her bra into place, completely unaware of the absolute torment she was putting him through. Her ponytail had come undone, and now her hair cascaded over her shoulders, teasing him further as it brushed against the swell of her chest.

“This looks so cute!” she gushed, turning from side to side to admire herself in the mirror.

Ominis’ chest felt tight. His mind had short-circuited. He was staring— gaping, really— his cheeks flaming red as his body grew unbearably warm.

This was supposed to be her latest attempt to seduce him, a move in their ongoing game to see who would cave first. But she had gotten completely sidetracked, too busy admiring the gift to remember her mission.

"Isn't it, Omi?" she asked, spinning toward him with genuine excitement.

He barely managed a reply. “Ye-yeah,” he croaked, stepping forward until he was right behind her. She was still admiring the way the silk hugged her when he lightly placed his hands on her hips.

In an instant, she turned and pressed soft, giddy kisses to his lips.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she murmured between each peck, her warmth sinking into him, her scent, mallowsweet and vanilla, wrapping around him like a spell.

It was too much.

The familiar weight settled low in his abdomen, his body betraying him in a matter of seconds. His cock pressed insistently against the fabric of his robe, a physical reminder of just how little control he had when it came to her.

And the worst part? It had taken nothing for her to unravel him. She could have been wearing a jester’s costume, and he still would have felt the same. Because it wasn’t about the silk, or the lace, or the way it clung to her curves.

It was her.

Her laugh. Her scent. The way she felt. The way she felt about him.

And Merlin, was he a mess for her.

“Are you okay, Omi?” she asked, blinking up at him before following his gaze down.

Her lips parted, and a slow, mischievous smile crept onto her face. “Oh… does someone need help?” she teased, voice dipping into a knowing lilt.

Ominis froze. His grip on her hips tightened ever so slightly, his throat dry as he struggled to maintain some semblance of composure.

"That's j-just a normal reaction," he muttered, his voice low, warm against the side of her face.

A shiver coursed through her, her skin erupting in goosebumps at the sound of his voice. She swallowed hard, but it was too late— her body had already responded before her brain could catch up.

She let out a soft, broken whimper.

And suddenly, the dam broke.

Ominis pulled her flush against him, his mouth crashing onto hers with a desperation that left them both breathless. His hands were in her hair, on her waist, on her, kneading, feeling, memorizing the way she melted into him. Her hands were just as eager, slipping beneath his robes, pulling at his clothes with a feverish need to feel him.

"I told you, Imelda, I don’t- WOAH!"

Sebastian’s voice cut through the haze like a blade.

They froze.

Ominis turned so fast he nearly knocked her over, planting himself in front of his barely-dressed girlfriend as Sebastian and Imelda stood in the doorway, both looking thoroughly entertained.

From behind him, she let out a tiny squeak, grabbing onto Ominis' robe as she gladly hid behind his taller frame.

Sebastian’s smirk stretched across his face as he crossed his arms. "Well, well, well. Looks like it’s time for you to pay up, Reyes."

Imelda groaned, already pulling out a small satchel of gold. "I had more faith in you, Ms. Hero of Hogwarts," she grumbled.

"Wait!" she called from behind Ominis, making both intruders pause.

"What?" Imelda asked, clearly irritated.

"You didn’t lose, Imelda. We didn’t do anything besides some light making out," she said matter-of-factly before nudging Ominis. "Right, Omi?"

Ominis blinked, his mind still racing, his body still aching. But he forced himself to nod, his face burning. "She’s correct."

Sebastian sighed dramatically. "Fine." But his smirk didn’t waver.

She took the opportunity to grab her robe and wrap it around herself before stepping forward. "Why are you two even here?" she asked, pulling the fabric tightly around her as she stood next to Ominis.

"Sebastian said he didn’t have my Potions book-"

"Which I don’t!" Sebastian cut in quickly.

"Which he clearly does," Imelda deadpanned, as she picked up her book from the study table in front of them.

Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose. "As joyous as this reunion is, may I suggest you both leave so we can become a bit more… decent?"

He was amazed his voice didn’t waver.

"Five minutes," Imelda said before dragging a still-grinning Sebastian out with her.

The door shut. Silence fell.

"Soooo…" she started, pulling off her robe as she knelt to gather her discarded clothes.

Ominis swallowed hard. "Yeah."

She stood, slipping into her uniform with swift, practiced movements, casting a few quick spells to smooth out the wrinkles. Ominis did the same, knowing full well she’d fix his uniform properly in just a moment.

As expected, she turned to him, smoothing down his collar with gentle fingers. "I guess I really shouldn’t be worried."

Ominis raised an eyebrow. "Worried? About what?"

Her lips curled into a smirk. "About losing."

Ominis let out a soft chuckle before settling his hands on her hips, pulling her just a little closer. "I made a miscalculated decision," he murmured. "One that will not repeat going forward, my love."

And before she could respond, he tilted her chin up, brushing his lips over hers. His tongue traced the bottom of her lip before he pulled away— just a little tease, a taste of what was to come.

Her breath hitched, but she laughed, threading her fingers through his. "I really adore the gift, Ominis. I think I’ll wear it when I’m getting my way with you."

His grip on her hand tightened. "You’re a menace."

She giggled, tugging him toward the door. "And you love it."

Imelda and Sebastian leaned casually against the stone wall outside Ominis’ dorm, waiting. As soon as the couple emerged, Sebastian’s smirk deepened.

“So,” Imelda began, falling into step beside them as they made their way toward the quad. “Are you two planning to spend your nights in the Room of Requirement this week?”

Ominis frowned. “What for?”

Sebastian snorted, already knowing where this was going.

Imelda rolled her eyes. “Your lovely girlfriend explained the full terms of the bet, Gaunt. No wanking your willy, no flicking your bean— so wouldn’t it only be fair to spend the nights together as well? I mean, it’s not like you two haven’t done it before.”

Ominis opened his mouth, then promptly shut it.

She had a point.

His girlfriend hummed in thought before glancing up at him, amusement flickering in her eyes. “That does seem fair, doesn’t it, Omi?”

A pause. Then, begrudgingly, he sighed. “Fine.”

So it was settled.

Tuesday came and went without incident.

They both remained on their best behavior, though that wasn’t to say the tension wasn’t there; because it was.

Normally, Tuesday nights in the Room of Requirement were spent brewing potions, tending to plants, and— more often than not— tangled up in each other’s arms before bed. But not this time. Not with the bet hanging over them.

So instead of their usual routine, she sat behind him, fingers kneading into his back, working out the tension he refused to acknowledge.

Ominis knew she was up to something.

The moment she offered a massage, he had braced himself for torture - a slow, teasing descent into madness. But that wasn’t what happened.

There was no deliberate shift in her weight to press against him, no featherlight touches skimming too low, no sultry whispers against his ear.

Just her hands. Just steady, firm movements that should have lulled him into a state of relaxation.

And yet, he was more tense than before.

His muscles were coiled tight, his body on high alert, because none of this made sense.

She was supposed to tease him. Tempt him. Drive him over the edge until he cracked under pressure. That’s what he had prepared for.

Instead, she had done nothing.

Just as the unease was beginning to get to him, her hands stilled.

“I’m tired,” she murmured, shifting beside him onto her side. “I think I’ll stop here.”

He tensed further, waiting for the catch. But there wasn’t one.

She yawned, stretching languidly before curling up comfortably against the open space beside him.

“Goodnight, Omi.”

Her voice was sweet, too sweet, and when he turned his head toward her, he could practically hear the smirk in her tone.

Ominis lay rigid, mind spinning.

This was a trap.

It had to be.

But as the minutes stretched on, her breathing evened out, soft and steady. She had actually fallen asleep.

What the hell was she playing at?

She knew him too well.

She knew that if she had teased him, he would have resisted, fought back just as hard. But this? This was calculated.

Keeping him on edge. Keeping him confused.

And Merlin help him; it was working.

At some point during the night, Ominis succumbed to sleep. His body had finally relaxed, muscles no longer wound tight with tension. And when he woke, he felt, strangely, well-rested.

Except… something was off.

The warmth beside him had shifted. Her body had gravitated closer in sleep, her presence so familiar now that he could feel it even without touching her. He reached for his wand instinctively, letting the vibrations fill in the image his sight could not provide.

And Merlin, was it a sight.

Her hair spilled across the pillow like spilled ink, a chaotic mess around her peaceful face. Her lips were slightly parted, a faint line of drool escaping the corner of her mouth, completely unbothered in her slumber.

His mind drifted lower, tracing the delicate silk of her nightdress, short, because she preferred it that way. The thin straps had slipped from her shoulders, and with them, the fabric had shifted— too much.

His breath hitched.

One perfect breast had spilled free, soft, inviting, rising and falling with every slow breath she took.

Ominis clenched his jaw, swallowing against the immediate heat rushing through his body. But it was too late; his cock had already responded, painfully stiff, throbbing against the constraint of his underwear.

A low groan slipped from his lips as he felt the unmistakable dampness of precum leaking from the tip.

This was unfair.

She had done nothing, and yet here he was— wrecked.

-

Ominis stood abruptly, grabbing a fresh towel before making his way to the bathroom, his body aching for relief. The moment the door shut behind him, he let out a sharp breath, pressing his palms against the cool porcelain sink.

This was hell.

It wasn’t unusual for him to wake before her— she always slept longer, comforted by the familiar sounds of his morning routine. But today? Today, he needed to get away before he did something reckless.

He turned the knobs, letting cold water cascade over his overheated skin. The shock of it sent a shiver through him, pressing him back against the chilled stone wall. His cock was still hard, still leaking, and he hated how easy it was for her to do this to him.

Even now, his mind betrayed him.

The boat house.

Her.

The way she had pressed her tits together, slick and warm, dragging him between them before wrapping her lips around him. The way she whimpered, the way her tongue had—

Fuck.

Ominis' jaw clenched. His hips had jerked involuntarily, searching for the pleasure he refused to grant himself.

He gritted his teeth.

No.

Not here. Not like this.

The pressure in his abdomen coiled tighter, a slow, agonizing burn. He needed more—but he wasn’t going to lose.

He quickly turned the water from cold to warm, hoping to reset his thoughts.

It didn’t work.

Because now, the warmth reminded him of her, of the way her body pressed against his, the softness of her skin, the heat pooling between her thighs as she whimpered against him.

Ominis groaned, gripping his aching length for just a moment before yanking his hand away.

Am I really this weak?

Do I have no resolve?

Precum dripped onto the tile, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

This was supposed to be his damn solace.

Disgusted with himself, he shut off the water, stepping out of the shower still hard, still frustrated beyond belief. He wrapped the towel around his waist, gripping it tighter than necessary, willing himself to calm down.

And then— she walked in.

Yawning as she stretched, her silk nightdress hitching up just enough to reveal the soft underside of her ass.

Ominis nearly whimpered.

Instead, he swallowed his groan, his fingers twitching at his sides as she moved past him.

Completely. Unbothered.

This was unfair.

She grabbed her toothbrush and handed it to him with a small smile. “Good morning, Omi.”

He forced himself to take it, shoving it into his mouth before he could say something pathetic.

She started brushing her teeth, her voice muffled through the bristles. “You don’t take hot showers. What changed today?”

His grip on the sink tightened. “Nothing.”

Liar.

His wand was in his pocket, and despite himself, he couldn’t stop it from registering the details of the room; the way her breasts bounced as she brushed, the way her thighs pressed together slightly as she leaned over to spit—

Salazar, have mercy.

“Whatever you say, Omi.” She moved to wash her face, her voice still deep with grogginess, completely unaware of how utterly undone he was.

Or maybe…

Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

When she stood straight again, water dripping down her neck, he was certain—

He needed to put his mouth on her.

But she didn’t give him the chance.

“I’m going to take a shower-” She paused, hesitating. He could hear the shift in her tone, could practically feel her catching herself before saying something dangerous.

He exhaled slowly.

She had almost invited him in.

Instead, she cleared her throat. “Never mind. Will you wait for me before breakfast?”

Ominis shut his eyes for a moment before replying, "Yes."

She disappeared into the shower, leaving him half-naked, painfully hard, and more frustrated than ever.

He stomped back into the room, dragging his robes on with more force than necessary.

The door opened again, and he heard it- 

The rustle of fabric. The soft zip of her skirt. The quiet snap of buttons being fastened.

And then… nothing.

Ominis turned slightly, waiting.

She always teased him when getting dressed. She always made a show of slipping into her uniform, always brushed against him in passing.

But today?

Nothing.

When she finally emerged, she was fully dressed—plaid skirt, vest, tie neatly knotted, socks pulled perfectly into place.

And Ominis?

Ominis felt betrayed.

Where was the game? Where was the seduction?

She sat at her vanity, combing through her hair as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

His mind raced.

Why isn’t she teasing me?

What is her play?

Isn’t she frustrated?

She hummed in thought, posing with different hairstyles before glancing at him. "Do you think I should leave my hair down today?"

Ominis barely processed the question.

When he didn’t answer, she huffed. “Omi, I want your opinion.”

He let out a slow, measured breath, gripping the edge of the bed. "Whatever makes you happy, my love."

She rolled her eyes. "That’s not an answer."

Neither was hers.

She was dodging the game, changing the rules, and it was driving him insane.

She finished combing her hair, and then–

The scent of mallowsweet filled the air.

Her perfume.

The last step of her routine.

Ominis sat stiffly, his cock still aching beneath his trousers. His body was begging for relief, and all she had done was get dressed.

She hadn’t flirted.

She hadn’t touched him.

She hadn’t even tried to seduce him.

And yet, she was winning.

His grip on the bed tightened.

He didn’t know what her plan was.

But he was starting to realize one very important thing,

He might actually lose this bet.

----

She liked to think she was winning. That her calculated restraint was driving Ominis mad with frustration.

But the truth?

She was suffering just as much.

She missed everything; the weight of him pressed against her, the slow grind of his hips, the way he groaned so sweetly whenever she had him in her mouth. Ominis was addictive, a drug she could never get enough of, and now? Now she was deprived.

Her body knew it.

During class, she was restless, her legs bouncing beneath the desk, fingers twitching against the parchment as she forced herself to focus. But it was impossible. The minutes dragged, each second more unbearable than the last, because all she wanted, all she needed, was to find Ominis and kiss him.

Just a kiss.

Something small, something innocent.

But still intimacy.

By midday, she was desperate, anticipation coiling in her stomach as she made her way to lunch. She could almost see it; Ominis waiting for her at their usual spot, his head tilted slightly toward the sound of her approach, a soft smirk playing at his lips.

But then a note arrived.

Ominis had sent word that he’d be spending the afternoon helping Sebastian and Anne with Potions. He wouldn’t be meeting her for lunch.

Her stomach dropped.

The devastation was instant, a wave of disappointment crashing over her so strongly that she froze in place. She knew where they’d be; the library, but she couldn’t just show up. That would be desperate.

So instead, she forced herself to stay away.

She tried not to think about him.

Tried not to think about the ache between her thighs, the way her body responded just from missing him.

But it was impossible.

Because she felt it with every step she took; the warmth slicking her inner thighs, the way her body wept for him, not from need or stimulation but from something deeper, something worse.

I miss him.

Not just his touch. Not just the sex.

Him.

Her mind drifted.

The first time Ominis had pinned her down and insisted— begged— for her to sit on his face. How nervous she’d been, worried she’d suffocate him, but he hadn’t cared. He wanted it. He wanted her.

And when she had finally given in?

He had pulled her down harder.

She had never been worshiped the way Ominis worshiped her. Never known that kind of devotion, that kind of intensity, until him.

Oh, fuck.

Her thighs pressed together, instinctive, but it wasn’t enough.

She needed him. Now.

Lunch forgotten, she wandered the castle grounds, hoping the cold air would settle her, but it only made her feel worse. Being outside without Ominis next to her felt wrong, felt lonely.

She didn’t even care about sex at this point.

She just needed him.

She didn’t think twice as she marched toward the library, entering with determined steps. But Ominis wasn’t there.

A pout pulled at her lips.

She spent the next twenty minutes searching, feeling ridiculous, before she finally checked the Potions classroom.

And there he was.

Beautiful. Frustrating. Hers.

He stood at the front of the classroom, methodically guiding Anne and Sebastian through the steps of brewing a Pepperup Potion. A punishment from Nurse Blaney for being caught stealing potions, and instead of detention, they had been assigned one hundred Pepperup Potions to make.

Cold season was approaching, after all.

She didn’t care about any of that.

“Ominis!” she gasped, rushing toward him, ignoring the startled looks from the others as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Hard.

Too hard.

But she didn’t care, because his lips were on hers, and that was all that mattered.

The moment was over in seconds, but she felt it everywhere— her lips tingling, her skin buzzing, her heart racing.

She pulled away just as quickly, breathless.

Ominis let out a low chuckle, his smirk unmistakable. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”

She scoffed, lifting her chin. “No, I could. I just came here to meet Anne.”

Anne blinked, confused. “…Me?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade today.”

Anne gave her a knowing look before smiling apologetically. “I can’t. I promised Natty I’d study for Transfiguration with her.”

A beat of silence.

Ominis smirked. “Caught in your lie.”

Her stomach flipped, heat creeping up her neck as his tone— so smug, so satisfied— sank into her skin.

Because he was right.

She had lasted half a day without him before completely unraveling.

And the worst part?

Ominis knew it.

---

By Wednesday night, Ominis and his sweet, infuriating girlfriend had made it to yet another night of self-control.

They were in bed, both immersed in their respective readings. Ominis lay propped up against the pillows, his wand hovering lightly over the pages of his book. He was clad only in silk sleep pants, having forgone a shirt; his preferred way to sleep. The air in the room was cool, but his skin remained warm, his body always carrying heat.

And she?

She was struggling.

She had been glancing at him for the past half hour, barely retaining any of the information from her Dark Arts History reading. How could she focus when Ominis was lying next to her like this? When his defined chest was exposed, when the gentle rise and fall of his breathing made his muscles shift just enough to distract her?

Tension wasn't thick, but it was there.

It had settled between them like an unspoken understanding; the constant awareness of each other's bodies, the quiet acknowledgment that one wrong move could unravel everything.

She sighed softly, finally giving up on her book. Closing it, she placed it on her nightstand before shifting closer, curling into Ominis’ warm side.

“Let’s cuddle, Omi.” Her voice was soft, sleepy, as she nuzzled against his bare chest.

A low chuckle rumbled through him. He set his book aside, adjusting easily to accommodate her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her against him.

“You’re so needy.” He teased, his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She hummed contentedly, one leg lazily slipping over his. “Says you.”

His chest vibrated with quiet amusement, his fingers lazily tracing circles along her exposed thigh.

Ominis was always warm, always steady, and right now, she felt safe; wrapped in the scent of him, surrounded by his presence, his touch, his breath.

For a moment, she let herself just be, breathing in the stillness.

Neither of them spoke further.

Neither of them had to.

The End.

Give me feedback and lmk anything else.

Also I'm just asking who do you guys want to win?

Masterlist

[reverd-ck]

ch.2- he's so perfect, blah blah blah

You blinked into a familiar ceiling. Where have you last seen this?

The morning light shone through the window, penetrating through the blinds. Its pattern left a soft glow of illumination into the room. It took your eyes a few seconds to finally understand: This was Choso’s apartment, and you were in his guest room. 

How did that happen?

Breathing in a deep breath, you feel that your throat is unusually dry, and your face feels a little sticky. You clear your throat as you slowly sit up, your aching muscles straining to support your weight. When you got up, a headache out of nowhere hit you like a truck.

Pulsing in relentless waves, it attacked your head over and over again, never once settling down. Hands shooting up to your temples, you try to massage your head, and ease the throbbing pain. 

Headache, dry throat, and the sorest muscles ever. Yeah, you definitely got drunk last night. 

Moving your legs off the bed and groaning, you head towards the washroom to try to clean yourself up. You washed your face with hot water, which helped soothing the headache a bit more. You could only wash your face as there wasn't a toothbrush or anything for you to use, so to satisfy your other need, you went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

As you were filling up the glass, you heard some small footsteps, and the creak of a door. Yuji had woken up, and was also going to the bathroom to do his routine. When he opened his door, he saw you in the kitchen. You two exchange a glance while Yuji rubs his eyes to make sure he still isn’t dreaming. 

“Ohh!! It’s you!! My brother’s girl friend!!” Yuji exclaimed, a smile on his face.

“Good morning Yuji,” you reply. “Although, I wouldn’t say girl-friend.” you add nervously while taking a sip of the water.

Yuji, having completely moved on from the topic, asked, “Why are you here in the morning? Aren’t you supposed to be at your house?” 

You took a second to conteplate how to explain to a 9 year old how badly drunk you got last night that his older brother needed to pick you up.

“Uhh, Choso did me a really good favor and picked me up from a place when I couldn’t drive.” you lie, convincing the nine year old. 

“Oh, okay.” Yuji said, accepting the explaination and going on about his morning. You sigh and drink from the glass again. You saw on the couch your phone, wallet, and other neccesities. You walked over to collect them, assuming Choso just put your things on the couch for you.

He’s so nice, you think to yourself, thankful for the little extra he always does for everybody.

As you sit on the couch scrolling through your messages and drinking water at the same time, Choso comes out of his room and sees you already up. 

“Hey, sleep well?” Choso asked when he saw you sitting on the couch. He was still nervous on how to correctly approach you after last night, so he decided he’ll just play it off as nothing and be “nonchalant” about it. 

“Yup!” you replied, smiling. Your brows furrowed a little, still battling the headache.  “Thanks for driving me back too, Cho. Really really appreciate it.” 

“Eh, it was nothing, no big deal,” Choso replied, still being cautious on what he said. He looked at your slightly pained expression, and he thinks that you remembered what happened last night. Oh god- Would it be awkward just talking now? 

“So..uhh..” Choso mumbled. “Are you feeling better now?”

You thought he was mentioning how drunk you were, but he was really trying to ask you about the scene last night. 

“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better now, I just have a huge headache though,” you sighed.

That wasn’t what I meant. He thought. As in your mood. But he didn’t want to bring it up- what if he was bringing back bad memories? He didn’t want to do that to you. Choso decided it would be worth it to just not mention last night at all and will only elaborate if you brought it up.

But you never did bring it up, being convinced to eat breakfast with him and Yuji.

The whole time, he was scanning your face and expressions to see if you had really forgotten or some part of you still hurt, but you were just hiding it.

Why would you need to hide it in front of me though? Choso thought. 

As you ate a simple breakfast- Toast with butter, you were a little lost in thought, trying to piece together a timeline. Weirdly, you feel like you’ve forgotten something that should be mentioned sometime around… someone… you just couldn’t figure out who.

First, that guy did break up with you. Piece of shit, really. Were you over it? A little, now. Better than yesterday, at least, when you decided just to drink it all away at a bar. Then, you have a vague recollection of texting someone, which you found out to be Choso this morning, and then passing out. 

Sitting there, thinking to yourself, you didn’t notice the person across from you staring at a face he found pretty for a long time. Choso thought you were playing it off as trying not to be a bother- and he was trying to form a plan to talk about it with you a little more. Hesitantly, he tries to start a conversation about the topic.

“Um… about last night…” he murmured unsurely. He looks down, to the side, at your plate, the fork you’re holding, anything but your face. You tilt your head sideways to signify that you’re listening. In your head, you were freaking out a little bit. Did you do something wrong? Did you do something embarrasing? How bad was it that he needed to confront to you about it?

You spoke up before he coud continue. “Oh- oh my god. If it’s anything I did, then I’m so so sorry for it!” you said, sitting up a little straighter.

Choso was lost. He looked at your genuinely clueless expression to confirm is theory.

You had genuinely forgot.

Alarmed by his sudden silence, you tried to clarify once more. “Really! I don’t remember a single thing! What did I do?” you exclaimed, honestly defending yourself. You put your hands up in the air as a gesture of surrender.

Choso, having snapped out from his momentary shock, tried to clear the air again. “Relax, you didn’t do anything…I’m just surprised you forgot, that’s all.” he said. 

He knew you didn’t believe his explaination, but you didn’t question further, which was all he needed to sit down and think about how to approach this. 

Still feeling ashamed, you quickly ate your breakfast and left his apartment in an attempt to avoid staying too long. Before you finish chewing, you get up and say, in a muffled tone, that you're going home. Then you go to the couch and gather your belongings. When you mutter "sorry" to him and Yuji, Choso nods in response and hands you your jacket. You closed the front door after putting on your shoes and shouting "Bye," your cheeks still flushed from the awkwardness.

Choso was still standing in the doorway, surprised on how fast you left. He should say sorry for embarrasing you, he thought. He felt a small nudge on his leg. He looked down as Yuji looked up at Choso and bluntly said, “She’s pretty. Why is she not your girl friend?” in little brother astonishment. Choso’s face reddended as he picked up Yuji and mubmled “That’s enough bro, thanks for your input.” Yuji giggled on Choso’s shoulder, kicking his legs and smiling. He smiled back. All he ever loved was you and Yuji. He wasn’t sure how, but he’ll get through with you one day. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Two weeks later, you had found another date to look forward to, getting over the last one pretty quickly, even if it hurt more than the others. This time, it was someone who looked promising. His name was Toji- someone who you met at online. You were a bit wary of him though, since he seemed like the type to abandon his own son and sell him to a clan who wants to kill him, but you weren’t too sure. That was what first dates were for, to learn more about them, right? 

It was 5pm, and you were starting to get ready to go to the bar where you guys planned to meet up. You hummed to your favorite song playing on a speaker nearby as you did your makeup, feeling just a bit nervous about the upcoming date. Generally, people online didn’t live up to much of your standards. As you were dabbing on blush, the doorbell rang. Curiously, you weren’t expecting anyone here at this time. Putting your brush down, you speed-walked to the door, yelling “Coming!” and looking through the peephole.

To your surprise, you saw an eye staring right back at you.

You inhaled a sharp breath before yanking your eye away from the hole and taking a step back from the door. Until you heard a familiar voice.

“Yuji, stop peeking in from that side. It won’t work,” said Choso.

“But I wanted to see if she was there yet!” Yuji’s voice whined.

Breathing a sigh of relief that it was just Choso and his brother, you unlocked and opened the door, being met with Yuji’s beaming smile and Choso right there with him. 

“Gosh, Yuji! You scared me with your eye!” you said. “Why are you here at my apartment anyway?” 

Choso sighed. “Because-”

“Because the skibidi toilet live stream is happening right now!! And it said to bring a friend for double aura points!!” Yuji continued, eyes sparkling.

You blinked at him once. Twice. Aura points? What’s that? You look up to Choso, silently asking him if what Yuji said was what is actually happening, and Choso just gave it a short nod.

“Umm… sure… You can-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Yuji rushed in, laughing. He quickly turned on the TV and navigated Youtube to pull up the livestream.

You turn your attention back to Choso. He coughs a little in his hand, then explains that that livestream told everyone to bring a friend, and Yuji insisted on going to your home to watch the livestream with him. 

You felt happy that Yuji chose you to be his friend watching with him, but then again, you had to go in around thirty minutes. You looked back at Yuji and then back to Choso.

“Um, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay and watch the whole livestream, Choso. I’m really sorry…” you said, a pit forming in your stomach.

Choso gave you a pointed look. “Another date?” he asked. You nod slowly, feeling regret that you couldn’t stay.

Choso was silent for a few seconds. 

He can stop you now, he thought. Now was a good opportunity to stop you from ruining yourself all over again. He just needed a place where you and him could talk about it without Yuji overhearing. 

Opening his mouth, he says nervously, “Hey, can we talk somewhere?”

Curious, you followed him into your bedroom. You closed the door behind you, and asked, “So what’s up?” 

Choso stood in front of the closed door and took a deep breath.

“Don’t go on that date.”

Immediately, your reaction was a quick “Huh?”. You registered what he said- you just didn’t believe it. 

Choso paused again. “I’m serious, y/n. Don’t go on that date.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer for a second. He had his hands in his pockets, looking at the floor. His position didn’t come off as someone who was sure about what he was going to say, which made you question him even more.

“Why Choso? Do you… know this guy or anything?” you say, unsurely . “Or do you have magic powers and can tell the future?” you joke with a light smile, trying to ease the tension. 

He stayed silent for another second. “Just…don’t,” he reiterated, making you even more confused.

“Why? Should I be worried or anything?” 

Seeing him this unsure made you panic a little. You didn’t understand why he was being so secretive. Or maybe he was waiting for you to figure out the reason yourself?

“Is it because of him? Does he have a bad rep or anything I didn’t hear of?”

“No, I don’t know him. I just don’t want you to go.”

Huh? So what was his reason on why he doesn’t want you to go? Wait, was he saying that he doesn’t want you to go on the date, or he doesn’t want you to go in general, what did he mean?

“Oh, is it because of Yuji’s skibidi thing? Is that why you want me to stay?”

Choso could feel this conversation is going in the wrong direction. He needed to speak his mind- but how? 

“No, no it isn’t about that either… It’s…”

His sudden pause makes you fidgety. What did he have to tell you that was so important? You checked your phone for the time- 5:36. You needed to be going in almost ten minutes, and you still haven’t finished your makeup.

You don’t want to interupt Choso on what he wants to tell you- but what does he need to say that has to take this long for him to think about it?

“It’s what?”

He sighed. Maybe he should just tell his truth and go in blind. He saw you check your phone for the time, he knew you were getting a little impatient. He needed to be quick.

“Look, y/n. I don’t want you to go because… you need to give yourself time to heal before you move on.”

He did it. He said the words. You would have to get it now. By the end of this, you’ll get it. Maybe he’ll finally be able to stop you.

His words stunned you a bit. Heal? Move on? You already did, right? Why was he so concerned over this now? 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask. Truthfully- you knew exactly what he meant, you just needed to confirm it.

Choso hesitates. How is this the best way to put it?

“That last breakup you had, it was really rough, even for you. You know… when you called me to pick you up from the bar, and when you slept over… you sorta…” Choso sucked his teeth in. He wasn’t sure if he should be telling you this, while you were living in blissful ignorance. 

Your mind jumped to a horrible conclusion. If you had forgotten about the whole thing, of course he would feel uncomfortable with you going to meet with another person. 

“I what? Oh my god, Choso, did I do anything? I’m so, so, so sorry if you were uncomfortable, I-”

“No! No, don’t get the wrong idea.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. At least that didn’t happen.

Choso goes on. “It was nothing like that. Um, last time, you came to me really, really upset because of that breakup.”

You thought about his words. It should ring a bell, right? How could you forget about something like that? 

What did you even say though? You had completely forgot about the thing. No recollection at all.

“Choso, I think I completely forgot about that.”

He looks up at you. “I know you did. But I really think it should be unhealthy for you to move on so quickly.”

His words echo in your head. Honestly, they had a truth to it. 

On the second hand, why was he being so protective now?

“Choso, I think I get where you’re coming from, but I still need to go, you know.” You checked the time on your phone again. 5:38. You really, really had to be hurrying up now.

Yuji’s voice called from the living room. “Are you going to watch with me?”

Choso looked back at the door. He didn’t want to leave his little brother hanging, but he didn’t want to leave you again. 

You decided for him.

“I’m sorry Choso, I really am. How about I go on this date and see? Then we’ll talk about it more?”

You were definitely trying your best to compromise, get rid of the conversation, and get out as fast as you can, but Choso had other plans. 

“No,” he said affirmatively. “You need to stay in and let yourself rest.”

Your impatience was really getting a hold of you now. Why was he so insistent? Why couldn’t he just let you go? Was it really a big deal? 

Does he need to do this now? Right now? 

“Choso, I’m fine. Let me go.”

“No.”

“Let me go.”

“No.”

You clench your fists a little. You really shouldn’t be wasting time like this. 

“Choso, please. Why are you being so stingy about this? Since when did you start caring?”

“Since you texted me drunk and sobbed into my shoulder!”

The room was silent for a second. Did you really do that?

“I thought, after that, I would try to make and effort to not let you get yourself depressed like that ever again,” he said.

You looked at Choso in the eyes. He was staring right back into you. It all made so much more sense now. You now knew why he was trying to stop you.

But you can’t just bail out like this.

“Choso, I appreciate it. I really do. But please, I need to go to this one. It’s too late to cancel now. I’ll look like a bitch doing so.”

He was about to lose you. He didn’t want to wait another time to stop you. He had you now, why give up? He needed to say something, anything. Anything to give as an excuse. 

“Y/n…”

“Choso, I actually-”

“Y/n. I don’t want you to go because I love you.”

.

.

.

What?

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

a/n

whats up guys?! welcome to the fic that i thought was a good idea then it wasn't.

hopefully i will finish this though.

why did it take so long?

deco*27 monitoring reference yuji itadori?

originally y/n was gonna blow tf up and be a whole bitch then it felt weird so i had to rewrite the entire last part

when the plot is swiss cheesing.

or am i just reading into this too much?

hello brain rot yuji i love you with all my heart

thank you for reading <3

dividers by @.enchanthings @.adornedwithlight

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series m.list

taglist- open!

[sunnynardelli]

It was never easy to tell when banter was just banter and when there was a little more weight to it. Sunny tried to never read too much into the words of others. She had embarrassed herself more times that she would have liked to admit by thinking people were into her (or worse hated). Unless they were explicitly clear, she would just laugh at it and roll her eyes. Even when they were, she did the same. “I never said it was true just that there are people who think it,” she said, shaking her head. There was definitely truth to that too. “Maybe the people who have had to deal with the real me should start a class action lawsuit against them for misrepresentation.” That’s was definitely an idea. It was definitely better that someone else have to pay it than herself. She wasn’t overly concerned about anyone actually pulling that though. They were more likely to try and come out of the woodwork and sue her for something relating to her business. They could try but she did have a lawyer dad. His focus might not have been bullshit lawsuits but he’d have figured something out or called on favors for friends. “Isn’t it better to be upfront about who you are so there aren’t any misconceptions?” she asked in return to his question. “I mean, maybe it would be better to wait a few times but honestly if they can’t handle the truth why are you even going to want to bother dragging it out. It’s better to run people off immediately.” And she was relatively good at that. That and knowing things about town. “There are. I mean, the trick is finding one’s that aren’t on private property. Trespassing is just the first thing in the quest for possible death.”

Sunny wasn’t a risk taker. Not even remotely. Growing up, she’d always been the kind of person who played it safe. She wasn’t likely to be caught dead jumping off a cliff. She’d tried a thing or two with limited chance of damage or chaos a time or two but she was much more content to keep her days downtown, running her bar or trying different foods. “That’s nearly an impossible feat though. I mean, trust me when I say, it is very rare for the dream to stack up,” she confessed. It was a bit like not meeting your idols, they were bound to disappoint you. She’d definitely put people on a pedestal only to have reality come crashing down on her later. “That is precisely it. I mean, I’m not sure what your after life would have in store for you but there is potential and at the end of the day, that people is enough to enter it with hope. I do have to warn you that she’s a bit of a screamer. Well, crier to be more precise but it comes out like a bit of wail – Maybe a partner in crime is what she needs to knock it out.” It made sense to her in her New Years Sleep Deprived brain. She nodded, willing to accept that neither of them actually wanted him to die. “I do a pretty good job of leaving things in random places on my own though honestly no one has to die to do that sort of things,” she told him. She listened to him talk, nodding as he talked about all the things he wanted to do with his son. She didn’t have any person experience in her life to relate to it but she could understand wanting to teach and encourage your kid to love and appreciate the things that were important to you. “Between your interests and his mom’s, he’s going either going to be the biggest hipster or completely rebel to the music and outdoors and become some sort of straight laced business man. It’ll be entertaining to watch.” You couldn’t really predict whether a person was going to run toward their genetic predispositions or against them. She snorted at the mention of booktok. “It’s okay. Men can be into spicy books too.”

Following and talking along the way was definitely the way to go. She felt a little warmer moving than she did standing around. Then again, moving from the beach and the breeze helped a little in that department as well. “It’s too late,” she said, “I’m afraid the image is already there and soon you will be known as the freezer fuck guy. You’ll be a legend. A questionable legend who people aren’t completely sure if they can trust but a legend never the less.” She did follow and wait, letting herself lounge against the wall while he got into warmer things. Her spiked hot chocolate was practically gone but it was okay since she’d soon have more. “You look less like an popsicle now,” she remarked taking in the sight of him. “And that will do. We don’t have far to go. Hopefully you can manage. I mean, we should start from the top with all the secrets.”

"All varieties of teasing are always on the table." A smirk tugging at his lips before laughing, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, tasting the saltiness of the water that still clung to his skin now. "Now who told you that you had an innocent appearance? Because they were lying, and you should get your money back." If there was one thing Ari could do, he could play the games too, she wanted to tease him, he could easily tease the blonde headed woman, at least she was being gracious enough to have talked to him so he wasn't standing on the beach completely alone, which had been the original plan. "Challenging and difficult, those are the two that you choose to start off with in telling someone about yourself? Brave, brave woman." Clicking his tongue, not sure if he was more impressed, amused, or fascinated by their conversation. "Believe you're supposed to save that information till you meet a person at least -- I don't know say the third time." Holding three of his fingers up as if driving the point really home. Though the blonde could do what she wanted, he just couldn't resist when she had offered up that information. "Mean there's the cliffs here, aren't there? Maybe it's not allowed to cliff jump from them, rocks below -- immediately crushes that rush, er -- figuratively and literally." Or maybe it was more turned into shredded human but there was no point in attempting to give more details to this story.

For Ari he was someone who was always up for an adventure, maybe you wouldn't actually find him cliff jumping but send him on a more difficult hike? Sign the man up. It was something he planned to do more of once the weather settled a bit more in Merrock and he could get outside, feel the crunch of his heavy boots back against the ground, it'd be that feeling of home for him. "That's all I could ever aim to be, a true gentleman, have to live up to someone's dreams." Ari quipped, tugging the towel tighter around his skin. "So you have one ghost lady, and you're willing to promote me. All I'm hearing is I'm winning at ghost life, and in the afterlife I'd at least have a friend, or maybe a ghost girlfriend, mean she's alone, I'm alone, haunting your for the rest of evermore might as well also make a partner out of it." It seemed like the only logical idea.

Giving a set nod, "You're not wrong, not something I want to think about anytime soon, actually happening. As much as haunting you until your last days probably would be far more amusing for me, than you. A person can only handle so many things going missing or ending up in random places before you know." Tapping the side of her temple indicating going a little crazy, but weren't they all in this world? "Definitely have a lot I want to teach him in this world so kind of have to stick around. Want him to learn to enjoy the outdoors, how to be kind and gentle with nature and animals." It was something he knew wouldn't happen for awhile, at least in the bigger sense there'd be years before he was taking him on adventures, but even in small ways he could make a change for the little boy. "Daddy Phantom sounds -- like you've been on booktok. Don't ask how I know about booktok either, you couldn't torture it out of me."

"I said that I'm freezing as fuck! Not that I fuck freezing -- wait, that -- no, definitely did not say that and I'm going to need you to make sure that you don't put out the image to anyone that I'm hanging around meat freezers. Are you trying to give the town of Merrock the idea I'm a serial killer? Not the vibe I'm trying to give, Sunny." As the blonde followed he rolled his eyes, "Apparently I'm far more exciting than you're giving me credit for, but I will take the liquor if you're offering now." Since this had all started over her playfully attempting to show off her spiked hot chocolate. Once inside it didn't take him long to dry off and change, emerging with his own hot drink, now far more suitable in a pair of jeans, his boots, and a simple button up. "Alright, I did make a pit stop for one of these, figure warm up and you show me the direction to this place you intend to take me to liquor me up and tap into all my secrets. Let's see how much game you have."

[lithth]

the underrated duo

[altschmerzes]

getting real tired of people who are shitting on “found family” more generally as a narrative concept and specifically named familial dynamics in fan interpretation of characters in particular because it all seems to be getting painted with a really wide and really homogenous brush. “we need to take found family away from people because they think it all has to be In Nuclear Family Terms and do you know friendship exists and you don’t have to call these characters siblings to legitimize their relationship while making it clear you Don’t Ship Them Ew Gross and THEN you sneer at people who Do ship them” cool cool that is a lot of really intense characterization and assigning of motive to other people en bloc!

like sure there’s some meaningful critique to be found in a broad trend to label every single relationship directly and specifically with terms that have very specific contexts and roles but im waiting to be told when anyone IS by the standards of people making and reblogging these very sweepingly generalized posts allowed to call a relationship parental or whatever. is that Ever allowed. who is handing out the permits. sometimes a specific term for a relationship isn’t actually about wanting an excuse to sneer about your ship (and frankly there’s a lot of projection going on there imo from people who are actively sneering about other people’s interpretation of a relationship!) and it’s because there are very specific contexts and details about a dynamic that makes exploring it from the lens of siblings or whatever very rich and compelling and interesting because words mean things and assuming everyone is just being reductive and demanding conformity to a nuclear family is, ironically, really reductive.

so like. cool it. stop being really fucking mean about people having an interpretation of a dynamic you personally don’t like or makes you feel a little weird or uncomfy because you ship them.