#love her but geez is she way more detailed than i realized

[casuallyanidiot]

Imagine Being stuck in the novel of a Yandere author...

Kina a soft continuation of this post.

tw. yandere, forced relationship, cosmic (?) horror

You get hit by a truck and end up in a story! Fortunately you're not the villainess destined to die a horrible fate. In fact, you get the luxury of being the main character and getting the hopeful happy end. Unfortunately, you don't recognize any of the plot points or the names of anything.

That part of it sucks, but you figure you could just follow how you assumed the story would go.

But you find it strange how much the male lead looks like that creepy guy from your work. There's a weird pit in your stomach when he sung your praises, and you can't help but recoil a bit in disgust when he kisses your hand. You know that it's your role in this story to end up with this guy, but geez he's so weird. If the two of you weren't in some weird historical fantasy world, you were sure that he would constantly be glued to your side.

Then you realize that, oh, hey you don't actually have to stick in the direction the plot of this world is trying to lead you in.

You find that the Northern Duke is quite cute, actually, and though he isn't as detailed as some of the other characters that were probably focused on more in the novel, he's still sweet enough. So, when the Male lead proposes to you, you politely reject him and run off to be with your new lover.

But when you arrive at the Duke's estate, you find that he's... the male lead?!

"You're not- how are you here?!" You say with narrowed eyes. The male lead merely smiles at you, if not a little confused. "My love? What are you talking about? Am I not your beloved Duke?" He laughs and spread his arms wide as if to embrace you. His skin feels colder than before for some reason, though you try to brush it off.

Your life in his estate was extremely strange from then on. It was like no one else could tell that the Duke had been replaced. He looked and acted completely different from before, and when you asked the staff about it, they looked at you as if you were the crazy one. They suggested that perhaps the two men were more alike than you initially thought, and that you should focus instead on settling into your role as his happy, unquestioning spouse. You tried not to frown, but with the way their eyes glazed over anytime you began to ask too many questions, you didn't think it mattered if they saw or not.

Your new fiancé was rather clingy. Annoyingly so. You had been trying to stand his lecherous touches and less than innocent advances for weeks now, to believe that perhaps you were crazy and had somehow mistaken the Duke and the Male lead for each other like everyone said you had. That it was just some byproduct of getting reincarnated.

But then you ended up speaking to a gardener.

She was obviously just a background character, one that probably wasn't even meant to be mentioned in the pages of this novel. She didn't even have a face, and her voice was disjointed and soft. When she spoke, her words echoed in the back of your brain as if she wasn't even meant to speak.

"The lord? He's been acting strange ever since you arrived here my lady," She said. You had to blink to make sure you heard her. To make sure she was actually there. "And his face doesn't look quite right. I'm glad you noticed, my lady. Someone has to."

When you sought her out the next day, she had disappeared without a trace.

You decided that whatever was happening with the estate, the Duke and his servants, was far too strange for you to ignore. Perhaps you had strayed far too much from the original plot and setting of the novel. Either way, it wasn't worth all the trouble. Not when the very thing you sought to avoid with the male lead seemed to follow you. Not when the world seemed to be shifting to try and keep you in the plot.

Wherever you went from then on, You would keep seeing the male lead appear. But it was the same as with the Duke. A character that was unique in appearance and personality would suddenly morph into him. And no one would notice. It was like it was completely normal to have dozens of copies of the same man occupying different names and roles.

You feel insane, like you've broken something in the world.

It's one night where you finally snap and stab one of the weird versions of the male lead where you find out the truth. You're panting and covered in blood, a knife gripped in your shaking hand. There's a manic relief that grasps you right then and there. Because, these characters aren't actually alive. They can't be. Not when they all have the same exact face and voice, smiling at you with empty eyes and words that don't feel like anyone would actually say them if this weren't a book.

You let out a sob of relief that for once you're not being reminded of the man who lurked around the corners of your pervious life. He made your skin crawl with the constant muttering under his breath, with the way he watched you. You did not want to see him in these, awful, awful mockeries of real people.

All you want to do, is have a happily ever after in this stupid novel.

Your eyes go wide and you let out a noise that's halfway between a sob and a laugh. The figure shambles up, seemingly unaffected by the wound in it's side. The face of the male lead, no, of that awful wannabe author, stares back at you without a care in the world.

"Did you get it out of your system? [Name]?" It asks you with a polite smile that doesn't reach the eyes and a tilt to the head.

You collapse to the ground, whimpering as the figure approaches you and pats you on the head. It said your name. Not the main character's name, your name from the real world. You swallow thickly as the puppet of a character kneels down with stilted motions. It's like every little movement is being directly controlled right now. As if it's being written right before your eyes.

"Are you ready to behave now?" It asks like you're some scared pet, and not a living, breathing thing that's being played with like a doll.

Your lips tremble as you nod. You feel something in your mind shatter as you realize that the happy ending written for this world was definitely not intended for you.

[strangebiology]

"How do I do your job as a side hustle?"

[Excerpt from Authors of Nonfiction Books in Progress]

Recently I talked to someone who wanted to get good at social media. When I told her I have 315k followers across platforms, she said, “How do you do that!? Teach me your ways!” She was interested in making money from social media. I was also invited to lead an online course on social media or book writing as a side hustle.

It reminded me of all the times I’ve heard, “How do you find so many bones?” or “How did you get that award?” or “How do you get a book deal?” or "How do you make money from writing?"

I LOVE talking about this stuff. I WILL talk about these topics for hours. And I LOVE the implication in the conversation that I'm good at something.

I also really respect the positivity in general that comes with someone asking if they could do that. It is good to ask how someone does something rather than resigning yourself to "I'm not good at that stuff." (AND the people who ask me are polite and respectful of my time! So no hate at all!)

BUT! I realized that people aren't liking the answers I give.

I used to enthusiastically give detailed tutorial answers to "how do you do that?" I often got interrupted when I did that. “Yeah yeah yeah, I don’t have time for that!” People don’t have 60 seconds to hear a summary of steps of how to do something, but they think they have time to learn to do it well? It can take years.

I realized people expect me to advise some quick tips they can employ over the weekend, and they’ll have the skill/award/grant/contract in a couple of days with no previous relevant experience. Or maybe there’s a website where they can download these skills, like in The Matrix.

Now I try to find one-sentence answers that imply a huge amount of homework for them. How do you get a book contract? “Build a writing career.” How do you get a lot of followers? “content is king, audience is queen.” How did you get that award? “Do something that would win that kind of thing.”

(Also, I don't make much money on social media, so I don't have advice for making it a side hustle.)

I asked other science writers if they often get asked how to make their career (science writing, book writing, social media, etc) into a side hustle, wondering if I'm wrong to say "I don't recommend it as a side hustle." The professionals I talked to agreed that they would say the same thing. Some said they feel it's a bit ignorant and disrespectful to think someone else's career is something anyone could do, and profit significantly from, after a 1-minute conversation and little work.

Even people who have been writing for years are struggling to find work in this field. It's hard. I have an MS in Science Journalism that I will likely never finish paying for--I'm not saying everyone needs that, or even that it's very common in this field. It's not. But geez, if science writing were a skill you could get in a 60-second phone call, I would have done that!

Imagine if I said to you, "I've got some free time on Thursday, I think I'll start doing your job on the side. How hard could it be?"

It can certainly be worth it to learn these things, and there are some things you, personally, might be 90% of the way to achieving! So, maybe a 10-minute conversation can help you start the process of capitalizing on your existing skills! I just encourage you to realize the answer to “how do you achieve X” is almost always “a ton of work and practice.” 

Maybe ask more specific questions after you've already done significant Googling. For example, “What’s the title of the award again so I can look for it?” “What science writing communities do you recommend?” I can answer those.

PS. I'd love to hear if you've had similar or different experiences! *Is* your job something you recommend to anyone as a side income? Or are you constantly battling that assumption?

[rae-raewrites]

Hi! First off I love you're writing your very talented! And second how do you think the riddlers would react to finding out they have a teenage daughter they never knew about (how inherited there smarts and sass)and something happened to the mom so they have nowhere to go so they track him down.

Oh geez it’s dad angst time😂 this is just a bunch of boys dealing with the younger versions of themselves. Also sorry this took so long anon!

The riddlers finding out they have a teenage daughter

Warning:mentions of death

Arkham

It was out of pure annoyance when he actually answers the phone after 13 missed calls from Jonathan crane.

So when Jon casually invites him over saying he needs talk to him he’s even more miffed. And then he finds this kid having tea with the dr, who the hell was she-?

“Ah Edward so nice of you to join us,this wonderful young lady has been trying to find some way to reach you.”

The her in question was a rather well put together 16 year old girl who was like a mirror of his younger years. She certainly had his eyes. Eleanor,her name was Eleanor

He’s not stupid and he puts two together quite easily.

Mom gone to cancer,the youngster was left in Gotham to survive on her own with only the understanding that he was her father. Her mother had apparently kept his tie from the fateful evening.

Apart of him him tells himself to just not bother with her,the other stronger side tells him not to be his father

Things are tense at first with moving in. He’s never really shared a space before with anyone so he’s avoidant at first. Not thinking she’s going to be much help with his projects

He is completely surprised when he finds out she knows her way around electronics

But then he realizes the kid has his photographic memory. And his sass……

“When was the last time you took a shower?” “Please explain to me a how a shower will improve any of my plans.” “Simple: you’ll stop me from dying from gross sewer dad smell.”

It irritates the hell out of him but when she start’s jabbing at the other rouges he’s a proud man.

They bond over getting work done,so much time lost yet there making up for it real quick

She created a rather wacky Rubik’s cube that left Batman puzzled for at least two days

Of course he got a kick out of taunting the dork knight while also genuinely being proud of his daughter

It’s hard to get used to hearing the word “dad” in relation to him but it’s a title he “humbly” accepts in the end

BTAS

He received a knock on his door one extremely sunny morning

Gina found him after his “reformation” and partnership with wacko toys was announced to the public. It wasn’t hard tracking down a man in the spotlight

Edward is of course absolutely stunned by the realization.

To his understanding the girl from metropolis knew the basics of his criminal career. The off traps and puzzles were something well known outside of the city.

He feels out of obligation to take her in,I mean he’s a villain but not a monster. Kid gets say down with some hot coco

Of course when he is brought back to Arkham the poor kid is quick to go and visit him and calm him down as well as work on a way to get him out

He’s rather surprised when he get broken out by jervis and Jonathan and they have him a letter from his prodigy with little xoxo’s and detailed escape plans

When he does get home he pretty much is dead set on teaching her everything he possibly can,how he got the virtual reality set up to work,his more simple traps

Of course just like her dear old dad she’s quick to design some of her own.

“A nothing machine that actually does something……. Out of the box but I adore the ingenuity.” “At least it’s more safe than the vr incident”

BTAA

It was another day of Eddie not being able to figure something out using the box method,unfortunately sticking two nuclear bombs and a tricycle and an old Macintosh in the box just wasn’t cutting it that day.

Cue Tuesday getting a phone call from Miss autumn at the behest of scarecrow

“Hey Eddie do you have any kids you forgot to tell me about?? “No….why?” “Oh geez”

He’s basically the surprised pikachu face meme when he meets Tina,kid was smart enough to get the drug king pin of Gotham to listen to her.

She looks so much like him!!

Of course he’s still skeptical! I mean any kid can just say there his! (But still!)

That completely disappears when the kid creates her own gizmos that rival her fathers

Of course rivaling his intellect means also rivaling his ability sass and make fun of everyone else

“A toaster with a tv screen?” “I know,I know not my best work.” “Well duh coulda thrown it in Gotham harbor and it would be more useful.”

Of course him and her quickly put their collective mind brains together and craft some rather complex new plans

Tuesday is totally chill with her around especially considering she’s able to chill him out when he’s suffering from writers block

Really Edward just got another child on top of already having miss Tuesday. He loves his two daughters from their two different origins

Zero year

Moira visited his cell at Arkham shortly after his defeat at zero year

He was already not in the mood for visitors until the determined teen calls him an idiot in a lime colored pimp suit

Hey! He doesn’t need some red headed brat coming in to his cell like she owns the place!

Oh wait…….

Let’s just say that he smartens up real quick to what’s going on.

Initially wants to tell the kid to bug off,he’s got a criminal career to succeed in but she’s quick to point out he doesn’t have anything right now

So they come to an agreement: get him outta there and he’ll maybe let her crash with him for awhile

So color him surprised when she gets him out safe with minimal bruising

Hell she’s pretty damm smart he has to admit,she certainly didn’t get it from her mother

He does ask eventually what became of his ex,a car crash left the poor kid with barely much. He was kinda her best and only option go figure

He’s snarky with the kid for awhile,of course she’s very quick to throw it right back at him

But they quickly start to getting together quite well especially when they DO get into a fight and quickly realize how stupid it was to begin with

I mean c’mon,kid could probably rule Gotham in less than a week. She’s not someone he wants to scorn

She’s a pretty smart kid he guesses (he totally loves her he’s just got an ego)

[pancake-breakfast]

Time for more TriMax! I'm told we'll be reunited with the girls again soon....

Archive

Trigun Volume 1: Covers + 1-3, 3 Detailed Thoughts, 4, 4 DT, 5-6, 5-6 + DT, 6 DT, 7-8, 9-10

Trigun Volume 2: Covers + Extras, 1, 1 Supplemental Research, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8

TriMax Volume 1: 1-2

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for TriMax Vol. 1, Chapters 3-4 below. (More detailed thoughts will be their own posts.)

Chapter 3: Bravo, Girls!

Ah, there are the girls already!

He did warn them that it might be like July....

Awww, that cupcake is HUGE!

Meryl's face. I don't think she likes being reminded that she's been through so much at her age. Or maybe she just doesn't like people talking about her age. Or maybe... she doesn't like all the rumors around the story versus the actual facts.

Vash using people as tools? Dude. It's like they don't even know the guy. They don't.

Woooow, way to dictate what makes women happy.

I sincerely hope New Miami is better than current Miami.

Oh, man. They straight-up note the hair color change here.

Oh, no! Her reports! Not only are they all over the floor, but they're also being insulted! Terrible.

Hahahahaha, Meryl's making faces behind her boss's back. TBF he deserves it.

So... the insurance agency decided that, rather than send two young girls out to guard this "most dangerous criminal," they'd send a former military man. This theoretically seems wise of them, but Vash is Vash.

Also, what military?? Best I can tell, there aren't other nations on this planet. The closest thing to a military you've got is gangs and maybe a few organized militia.

Dramatic Vash is dramatic. This time, in silhouette!

I can hear the *ching* of this guy's spurs as he steps off the bus. The fact that he's not wearing spurs is irrelevant.

Vash doesn't even try to pull one over on the insurance agency and pretend he's a Mr. Smith or whatever.

LOL, shotgun-launching suitcase.

Assassination attempt: failed.

What's up with the bottle on the string? Was... that how Vash opened the door?

Vash sees right through this guy. What's his name? Bardeaux Keele. As in, "Hai, I'm an assassin and I'm gonna Keele you!"

Somehow, I don't think this was part of his job description from the insurance agency....

LOL, now you done it, Keele. You gone and pissed off Wolfwood, and he has considerably fewer qualms about taking you out than Vash does.

Oh, honey. You're only in volume 1 of TriMax. There's no way in hell your next shot's gonna "finish it."

LOL, Meryl's entrance onto the scene here is amazing. I wonder how long she was watching before she decided to speak up.

Ohhhhh, she's gonna get this guy on a different type of insurance fraud. TBF, it's kinda on Bernardelli for not realizing it was a bad idea to hire someone named Keele.

I love how absolutely unphased Meryl is despite having THREE guns aimed at her and her life most definitely threatened.

Oof, instead she's thinking about all the life-threatening situations she's been in, and of Vash's goofy smile. I have thoughts on all this.

Ah, he done threatened Meryl and now Milly's gonna make him pay for it.

Vacation!? This is a hell of a vacation.

That face is not very convincing, Wolfwood. Just whaaaat are you planning?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Tabasco.

Meryl looks so happy about being carried away by the storm that is Vash.

Despite poo-pooing her reports, Meryl is still their second pick for Vash Babysitting Duty.

Chapter 4: Hero Returns

CW: Rape mention

This title page, though. He looks like he's in prayer.

Even though we've had a face reveal for Knives, he's still cast in shadows here.

There it is. A summary of Knives as he COMPLETELY misreads the situation and tries to paint himself as the hero.

Heh, I love how in this moment, the best insult Vash can come up with is to tell Knives he's not human. Which, of course, hardly works as an insult for Knives.

Geez. Vash thinks, "Forgetting brings too much sorrow. Remembering leads to everlasting pain." And then he chooses to remember.

Awww, he's so cute in his groggy wake-up phase.

That's a lot of coffins....

I wish I could do one-handed handstand push-ups like that. But I don't want to train for three hours every morning before breakfast. That sounds like self-murder.

LOL, Vash has been working up too much of a sweat even for Wolfwood.

Vash, when he hears another of his sisters is alive somehow.

Wolfwood explaining what Plants are to Vash is hilarious.

That's right; rape isn't about sex. It's about power. So if you're trying to drive other people out or show dominance over them, it does often fall into the mix right alongside murder.

It's played off, but Vash is well within his rights to cry here, I think. He cares a lot for humanity. Seeing them rip each other apart like this is bound to hit a note for him.

I love how much Nightow says about both characters and their relationship in just these two panels.

Dude. Vash's happy face mug.

Nightow is very dedicated to not drawing mouths on characters who have moustaches.

Brad?? THE Brad???

Yep, it's THE Brad.

Which face? Um. How many masks does Vash wear?!

In spite of all the time that's past, Vash recognizes Brad.

He snuck away from you, WW!

Time to get some new fancy gear! Huzzah!

"Lost technology for lost technology." Hahahahaha, these guys know what's up.

He genuinely is sorry, guys. He just didn't want to cause trouble.

Oh, Vash.... He looks so... empty at Brad's comments.

This is just going to dissolve into me posting a bunch of Vash panels because I want to slap some sense into Brad and give Vash hugs. But his face is so... resigned and sad and kind of hard here after Brad points out how much of a threat he could be to humanity. Like... he gets it, Brad. I guarantee you, he gets it. And he doesn't hold it against Brad for speaking the truth.

Vash is pleading with Brad. I love the close-up on his clenched fist. This isn't what he wants. But it's the way things are. And he's gonna do his best because he has to. For their sake. Regardless of whether they want him to.

Oh, Vash, my babygirl....

Hahahahaha, Brad is just jealous. Don't worry, Brad. Vash isn't gonna go that route.

Dude, what's up with that surgery tool??

What the heck? Who's crashing into stand steamer?? Rude.

LOL, WW crawling around with his bowl of... ramen? curry? soup? Whatever it is, it wasn't designed to be carried while crawling.

I feel like WW's chaos sense went off and he immediately followed it, knowing Vash would be there.

Misspelling of the word "custody" here....

Wolfwood doesn't get it. But Vash is trying to be patient.

Wolfy noticed Vash's new get-up. He knows he's looking at Serious Vash now.

Current favorite serious Vash expression:

Hahahahaha, Vash is dying after being called a disaster-prone freak. WW is also dying, but of laughter. Because it's true.

Oh, no. Vash has an idea. He looks way too mischievous for it to be a safe one.

Dramatic gun twirl!

VAAAAASHU ZA STAMMMMPIIIIIIDOOOOOOOO!!!

Hahahahaha, that's right. Lean into your violent reputation as a way to quell the pending violence and lead to a non-violent outcome. This is how Vash wiggles out of trolley problems.

"These are the tactics of a the man whom our fate rests upon." "All I'm seeing is a total nutjob!" Beautiful.

[thekinkyleopard]

Alistar Satanos

(Abaddon)

‼️New OC Alert!!!‼️

Hey guys!!! I wanted to introduce you PROPERLY to Alistar Satanos! Some of you may know him from my mini series, “New Guy” and from “Camping Anyone?” well upon further details, and through a creative process, I’ve decided to make him a full blown OC. With depth and shit. 🥴🫠 And I have made a horrible mistake…because he is …TOO sexy. Art always by @aller-geez 🫠🥵🥰

Name: Alistar Satanos (Birth and Hell name: Abaddon)

Age: 2000 (looks 25)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Species: Dragon

Ethnicity: Anti-Christ

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Powers: Telekinesis, fire manipulation, mind control (limited to humans only not shifters or other hybrids/mixes)

Best friends: Kanai & Connie

Backstory: Alistar was born In the human world through a mortal mother, who was immediately killed when the guardians came to retrieve him. He is one of 7 Satan’s children. His name in hell being, Abaddon. Within 2 years in hell, he grows full mature and begins the next 2000 years in training. Where he is taught how to manipulate, deceive, trick and con humans as well as control his shifting form. Learning the difference between good and bad for his own manipulative and twisted ways. Upon graduating his training, he leaves at the same time as Kanai, who is going on his “Rumspringa”. Two Hell Boys against the world. Alistar’s essential mission is to collect as many souls on earth as he can, the ultimate goal being every soul, belongs to hell. However, free from his father’s controlling reign and constant bickering about control, he finds himself doing whatever it is he wants to do. This tends to leave him receiving a beating or two…but every time he lands himself in death, he just walks right back out the gates, as his connections to Kanai, means he has free access to in and out of hell, without his father’s knowledge. It’s his own way of getting out of the fact his failures would be tracked if he went to his father for resurrection. Alistar finds himself really attracted to addicts in the human world, finding them hilariously fragile he spends too much free time torturing and manipulating them. He’ll start off as a friend who empathizes, always pretending and playing the role of a recovering addict himself…he finds them shelter, and helps them find hope…before eventually he subtly and unsuspectingly leads them into a harder, more intense relapse. Just so he can laugh at their misery. Truly a sadist at heart, he loves playing pranks, deadly jokes, and harming others for his own amusement. Alistar believes in his heart of hearts humans are an absolute waste of breath and time, only choosing to sleep around with shifters and hybrid creatures. Humans are scum of creation, frivolous, impulsive, driven by emotion……something he’s too narcissistic to realize he shares quite in common with them.

Relationships:

Kanai: Best Male Friend - Grew up in hell and around Kanai, who is significantly older than him, but they have a brotherly kinship as he used to spend any of his free time hanging out with him.

Connie: Best female Friend - Met her while she was heavily on drugs in the streets of New York, Al took her as another human fallen to shambles. Ready to play his games, until he realized she was a shifter, taken from her own, left abandoned by filthy humans that CHOSE to bring her in…Alistar for the first time pitied someone. The only addict he’s ever helped get clean, stay clean, and regularly makes sure she has everything she needs to be taken care of. Pays her apartment rent, regularly buys her food & gives her allowances so she doesn’t have to work a disgusting job with disgusting humans. Not sweet, but definitely not mean to her. Very neutral. Loves that she’s mute. Brother and sister vibes 10/10

Allergies:

He’s an Anti-Christ so he doesn’t have any allergies but can be induced

How Severe Are they?:

When induced, bad. Sprays a lot.

Do They Get Sick Often?:

Not often seeing as his demon immune system is much more advanced than humans

How Bad is it Usually?:

When induced it leads to a fit, his nose gets runny, throat itches, eyes water like crazy

How Loud are their Sneezes?:

Medium loud, he’s not shy

What do they sneeze into?:

Hand or the open air

How often do they sneeze?

Not often unless purposely induced

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?:

Several. Usually 5 in a row

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?:

Build up as he has to induce

Do they sneeze in public?:

Absolutely he feels like it’s his own sneaky way of exhibitionism

Some examples of their sneezes:?

N’CHU

HAH’ SShhUu!

Et’KSSHU!

Kinks:

CNC

Sadism

Sneezing

Blood play

Knife play

Bondage

Degradation (on him and against others)

Impact play

Pegging

Orgies

Cuck

Exhibitionism

Foot fetish

Bone Fetish

Masochism

Death

Latex

Crying

[the-haunted-office]

Perhaps this isn't what Piter considers to be a "normal" day quite yet, but it does seem to be his lucky day, because Thursday is quite sincere in her statement that she'd love to hear him play. It doesn't even cross her mind to lie about such a thing, and even if it did, she'd be far more subdued about it, and would probably say something more along the lines of, "Sure, I'll listen to you play," with much less enthusiasm and far more shrugging.

When he says he needs to run off real quick, she laughs and offers to take his things and load them up into the dishwasher for him and clean up the little space where they just shared their coffee. Nothing else strikes her as odd or out of the ordinary about anything, as far as she's concerned. The used mug sitting there is already out of her mind, and the fact that Piter just flew out of there means nothing to her other than perhaps that coffee awakened his gut a little too quickly, as coffee sometimes has a tendency to do, hence the laughter when he suddenly excused himself.

She's poking around curiously at some other things in the dining area, waiting for him to come back, and is actually surprised to see him reappear with his keyboard in hand. There's a moment where the little anxiety gears in her brain start turning rapidly telling her she's missed a signal somewhere, Piter just went to go get his keyboard to share his music with her, he gave her a cue she missed, the cue was for her to go get her book to share with him, see?, he's even asking about it now, what did you miss?!

She brushes all those thoughts aside in a hurry where she'll examine them in great detail later, along with every single minute detail of their conversation to see what she could have possibly missed, and says, "Oh, it's- it's The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It's like a space adventure comedy about a man whose home planet gets destroyed to make room for a hyperspace bypass. After that he goes on a bunch of wacky adventures across the galaxy with aliens and androids, hehe. It's really funny, I hope you like it! I'll, ah- I'll go get it here in a bit, if you like, but- you brought your keyboard! I've never had anybody play music for me after coffee, ahaha. Or ever, really, I don't think. But-"

She kind of trails off awkwardly, realizing that if she does not shut herself up right now, she's going to keep fumbling awkwardly through sentence fragment after sentence fragment and possibly make him lose any small bit of respect he may have had for her. She thought she had herself together better than this but, well, turns out all it takes is one little moment of self-doubt to derail her entire train of confidence.

She doesn't want to make that too obvious, though, so she sits back down at the now-cleaned table and leans forward against it to show that she's actively listening and then-

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Her eyebrows go way up.

She doesn't know what she was expecting, but she does know that he's good. Probably the best she's ever heard - which might not amount to much when you consider she's not like a musical connoisseur. In fact, the most musical knowledge she has is that she can name every single one of Smashing Pumpkins' albums from 1991 to 2012 along with each song in the order in which they are on each album. Anything classical like this and she's left in the dark.

But it's lovely. And Piter is lovely playing it. She wonders if he knows it. Perhaps he does, because even he said he wouldn't attempt any humility. Ah, so he knew what he was doing then. Show-off. That earns a little smirk from her. But she'll let it slide. They're two lonely passengers just a-zippin' along through space, running from their old lives, so she'll show him that bit of humility.

Now, then, should she give him a grand, sweeping, round of applause? Or will the stunned look do it? She can't piece that together by the time he's finished with his piece, and all that ends up coming out is, "Geeze, Piter. The hell are you doing up here in this thing for?" Then she laughs. "I'm kidding. That was really amazing! How long have you been playing to be able to play like that?"

At this point, if she doesn't get a reminder, she just might forget about all the maintenance she's supposed to be doing. That's the problem with being a people person. You forget about tasks. And dangers. And just about everything else.

Piter finds that life goes simplest when he follows the premise that people kind of suck. And based on the kinds of encounters many people ended up having with the person he used to be, a proud Baron's even prouder advisor and torturer, he could be on to something there, by not exactly expecting goodwill.

(Won't life be different, now that he won't be clinging to a job that asks him to hurt people but protects him more than most from being one of the victims? He won't have the barrier. He won't have the excuse to not try, either.)

In any case, in his experience of a normal day, most people don't say, "Oh, Piter, I would love to hear you play the piano, I bet you're very good at it! I can't wait to hear that beautiful music."

On a normal day, perhaps Vladimir would say, "I went to the Opera last weekend. I would tell you more about it, Piter, if I thought that kind of high art would be meaningful to you."

And then perhaps Piter would say, "Oh, how wonderful! Well! Then it should stand to reason, m'lord, that you ought to be a superior musician even to me; remind me, which instrument do you play?"

And perhaps Vladimir, who plays no instrument, would say to Piter, who plays several, "You goad me well, Piter. But see, you misplace the glory in the performance of an art, and not the vision. Oh, you have skill, there's no denying that. But people like you learn to play for the reward or esteem you might receive in doing it. I doubt you even find the music beautiful."

And perhaps Piter would say, with a hearty chuckle, "Indeed, m'lord! I could not have said it better. After all, the instrument I play the most often, and with the most skill, is yourself!"

And then perhaps (no, at this point it is a definite thing) Vladimir would go into a rage as Piter scurried out of his office.

Could he be blamed, then, for stringing together a quick explanation and leaving in a hurry to unpack the keyboard once again, at the slightest indication of a receptive audience?

The extra mug was certainly not there when he was last awake. But the dishwasher is already running by the time he returns, with not much more on his mind than a thrill of performance that his previous employer would have looked down on and called base. Had he known about the mug, he might not have left Thursday alone. He might not have gone off alone, himself.

"What was that book called again?" he asks brightly, as he sets up the keyboard and starts playing a few scales to warm up. "Hitchhiking the Galaxy? Is it a memoir? Calling it your favorite has made me curious, so I have to read it now."

He's still stiff from cryosleep, and he stretches dramatically. "I cannot do you the favor of attempting humility," he says, smiling. "I'm still waking the rest of the way up, and I'm in the mood for something fast. Call it showing off, or don't." It's all the warning he gives before charging into a breakneck piece by Franz Liszt, one of the masters from Old Earth [xxx]

With a keyboard to hold his attention, he almost forgets about Thursday. He seems to grow more and more human after his sleepy and grumpy rude awakening less than an hour earlier. The change is nearly visible in real time, as if the music is actively transferring him packets of life force. Not every piece he sinks into is as fast as the first, but he seems to be selecting them based on how complex they are, and how much of an escape they offer from thinking about anything else at all. If it could have been enough, to just move here, lost in the music, he wouldn't be out in space looking for a new life.

From his expression, it's possible, even likely, that he finds the music beautiful.

[un-pearable]

mina mongoose :0?

the songoose

haha how convenient you just happened to send this in while i was working on her :D haha (tysm)

[atlabeth]

warmth - zuko x fem!reader

summary: the two times he notices her shivering and the one time he does something about it. 

a/n: lmaoo we have been in a DROUGHT my people. i have barely given you any content this whole month and i feel bad. i wrote this out over the course of a few hours after getting the idea in the shower. i did not proofread. i am not sorry. enjoy.

and NO that end part is not dirty it is simply two kids sharing a bed for warmth bc they got cute lil crushes on each other 🔫🔫🔫🔫

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): this is pure fluff bbbbbb 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three times. 

It happened three times before Zuko was finally able to get over himself and have a real, face to face, one on one conversation with the one person he hadn’t been able to get out of his head. 

Y/N. It was a name that had made a home in his mind, belonging to a girl that had made a home in his heart. He knew that she was a waterbender from the Northern Tribe and that she had joined the team after the Siege of the North, but apart from that, her life was a mystery to him. She was a mystery to him. 

It was pathetic. How could he become so enraptured with a girl when he didn’t even know the first thing about her? When he had spent the past couple of months fighting against her, trying everything in his power to hurt her? When she had no idea he even thought about her that way? 

Sometimes Zuko questioned himself, but then he caught a glimpse of her — the gleam of her hair, the way her eyes crinkled at the edges when she laughed, the fierceness with which she fought rivalled only by the way she cared for her injured friends afterwards — and he laughed inwardly. 

There was no way he couldn’t feel that way about her. She was simply enchanting. 

But there was only one thing he questioned more than his affections — why in the name of Agni could he not just walk up and start a conversation with her? There was no one else in the world that made him as nervous, as flushed, as completely incapable of basic speech as Y/N, and it drove him insane. 

It drove him insane that it took three times. 

~~~

The first time he noticed her shivering, it wasn’t on purpose. 

Zuko was serving tea to everyone as they gathered around the campfire, chuckling as Aang recounted one of their earlier adventures, back when he was still trying to capture the Avatar. Thinking about his past, who he used to be, was painful, but it gave him all the more reason to be thankful for where he was now. 

He wasn’t as focused on Aang’s story as he was on Y/N, though. She could hardly keep her thoughts to herself, interrupting every couple of seconds to add a detail that Aang forgot or give her own input on the events that he was describing. He started to frown as he noticed her shivering despite sitting right next to the fire — Zuko didn’t even realize how distracted he was until he felt someone hitting his arm. 

“Hey!” He was snapped out of his reverie by the harshness of Katara’s voice, angrily gesturing at the broken teacup and now spilled tea all over Haru. 

“Oh— I am so sorry,” he stammered as he crouched down and started to pick up the pieces on the ground. “Are you okay?” 

“It’s just.. really hot tea,” Haru muttered with a small wince. “No big deal.” 

“You’re right. It’s not a big deal.” Y/N raised her hand and with a small, fluid movement, she bent the liquid out of the fabric and formed it into a tiny sphere in the air. “See? Good as new. And you’re not even burnt.” 

Haru chuckled and pulled at his tunic, giving Y/N a grateful nod. 

“Can a sky bison drink tea?” She mused as she moved the liquid orb around in the air. 

“I don’t think so,” Aang said with a small laugh. 

“Shame we have to waste it.” Y/N bent it away from the group and let it fall to the ground, sinking into the rock below them. “Zuko can always make more though, right?” She said with a hopeful smile. 

“Uh, yeah. Of course.” 

“See, guys? No harm, no foul. You’re the best, Zuko.” She gave him an overexaggerated wink then began to pester Aang to get back to the story, leaving Zuko to continue handing out tea and keep his shaking hands as steady as possible. 

She really had no idea the effect she had on him. 

~~~ 

The second time? It was definitely on purpose. 

The night was unusually cold, even with the bonfire blazing in the middle, and he found his eyes trained once more on Y/N. This time she was the storyteller, giving them all a taste of Northern Water Tribe culture as she recounted a bedtime story she was told as a child. She had a whole arsenal of character voices at her disposal, keeping everyone thoroughly entertained despite the numerous lines she forgot. Zuko didn’t even realize he was staring until Sokka elbowed him in the elbow, gesturing at her with a nod of his head and a cocky grin. 

“What are you doing, just gawking at her like that?” 

“Wh— gawking? I am not gawking. I’m— I’m just listening to her.” 

“Yeah, sure. But I’m pretty sure Appa could start talking right now and you wouldn’t notice because you are hopelessly into her.” He gestured at Zuko’s eyes with his hand then in Y/N’s direction. “Gawking.” 

“I— I am not!” He protested, tearing his eyes away from Y/N’s animated face to give Sokka one of his signature glares. He lowered his voice to a whisper to ensure that no one would hear them. “I’m not into her, I’m not gawking, I am appreciating her storytelling.” 

“Uh huh, yeah.” Sokka looked at her and grinned before glancing back at Zuko. “If you’re not into her, then I can ask her out, right?” 

Zuko didn’t respond, simply kept glaring at him in hopes that it would intimidate him into backing down so he wouldn’t have to say anything and risk embarrassing himself. 

Sokka chuckled and held up his hands. “Alright, geez, I’m just joking. But maybe use some of that fire to keep it going? Looks like she’s cold.” 

Almost immediately, he broke eye contact and fueled the fire with a simple blast. Y/N shot him a grateful smile and nodded as she continued her story, and Zuko noticed her hands falling back down into her lap from their former place on her arms. 

No amount of fire could’ve caused as much warmth as her smile. He was sure of that. 

~~~

There was no way he could miss it the third time. After all, she was the only one there. 

Zuko hadn’t been able to sleep so he ended up outside, and there she was — sitting there, all alone in the middle of the temple grounds, shivering quietly with a moonless night sky as her backdrop. Before he could second guess himself, Zuko started walking over. 

“Hey.” Y/N greeted him without even looking up as she pulled her arms around herself, bringing her legs up to her chest in an effort to conserve all the warmth she could. 

“Hey.” Zuko took a seat on the ground next to her and crossed his legs. “Are you cold?” 

She let out an airy chuckle and nodded. “Strange, isn’t it? I grow up surrounded by snow and ice and I’m perfectly fine, but after a few months away a couple of breezes are tearing me down. I don’t get it.” 

“You’ve been shivering a lot lately,” he said after a beat of silence. Y/N raised an eyebrow and gave him a wry smile. 

“What, have you been looking?”

That sent him stammering. “I-I— yes? I mean— no, I’ve noticed, but I’m not actively looking at you, that’s weird, I’m not— I mean—”

Y/N threw her head back and laughed, the same laugh that sent flutter bats through his stomach and made his heart burst with happiness. She set her hand on his and squeezed, giving him a gentle look that almost immediately ceased his rambling. “Zuko, it’s alright. It’s… nice that you’ve noticed. Like you’re looking out for me or something.” 

He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find his voice — he was sure his cheeks were as red as his tunic, just at the simple touch of her hand — and it only got worse as she placed her other hand on top of it. 

“You’re warm,” Y/N muttered. “Like… intensely warm.”

“Is that bad?” He wondered aloud, preemptively panicking. “Do you want me to turn it off? I can’t turn it off, but I could find a way somehow—” 

“Thank you,” she interrupted with another small laugh, “but no. I don’t need you to uh, turn off your firebending. That already happened once. But you’re adorable to think of me like that.” 

The two of them stared into each other’s eyes, the air between them heavy with something she couldn’t quite place. Y/N pursed her lips and bit back a growing smile as she glanced at the ground. 

“This is, uh… really helping. With the cold, I mean. And I was… I guess I was just…” Another laugh. “I was just wondering if you’d maybe want to spend the night with me? Just because my room is especially freezing, and you’re so warm, and I think I would sleep a lot better if I—”

Now it was his turn to interrupt her rambling. There was something about her getting so flustered about him in the same way he did around her that made this easier. “I’d love to.”

“Great,” she breathed, the same smile from before returning just a little bit brighter. Y/N stood up and they began their walk back into the temple, hands still intertwined, warmth emanating between the two of them. 

Three times. 

Two strikes. 

One success. 

And that was all he needed.  

[quillsanddaydreams]

i don't like you

james potter x reader

—author's note: This was a story from my main that I adored so I thought why not rewrite it? The plot is the same, my ability to tell a story however, has changed. James and you do not like each other. Not even a bit. I hope you enjoy ;) Please do leave a comment, it makes my day.

—warning(s): couple of harmless pranks, slytherin! gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren't used).

—word count: 3,431

Groaning, you got up and squinted to make out the details of your dorm. Shouts and rushing made your head thump. You slowly realized a god-awful smell was filling up your room, quicker than you could think. Squeezing your nose shut, you rushed out. Other Slytherins were alongside you, you could hear coughing all around. Your eyes pricked with tears, your throat felt raw. Seeing a very familiar messy dark-haired boy run away jeering; you sensed rage gripping your form like a vice.

Third time. It was the third time the same week that Potter and the elder Black brother had pranked you all. Except it wasn’t funny anymore. That was what pranks were supposed to be right? Something that made everyone laugh along? Looking towards Elodie who was clenching her eyes shut at the sensation, you made a plan in your mind. You knew it was crazy. But when did that ever stop you? James had never conversed with you. Nor you, him. Yet it was clear that he did not like Slytherins. Not one bit.

-♡♡♡-

James yawned, stretching his limbs for a new day. Scrunching his nose, he felt a flowery scent attack him. Maybe it was just Sirius with one of his experiments. Shrugging, he got up and into the shower. That day he had transfiguration, charms, and astronomy. Thankfully nothing with the snakes, they might still be sour about the prank they pulled yesterday. Getting out of the washroom, he hummed to himself as he passed Peter who was still fast asleep. Remus was asleep and Sirius was furiously scribbling on his homework. Always finishing at the last moment.

He didn’t realize the uniform he was putting on until he looked at himself in the mirror. And boy oh boy did he panic. Eyes widening almost comically, he rummaged through his wardrobe, everything a dark green color with silver accents. A note fell at his feet.

“Dearest Marauders,

Take this beautiful gift of green robes from me. I know not all of you deserved this, but then again, I didn't feel like any of you should be left behind. I know how much you love us, Slytherins. Why not showcase it?

With love,

(Y/n) (Y/l/n)”

“Sirius! Remus!” he called out. “Wormtail!”

Sirius didn’t even look up from his parchment, Remus let out a grunt in response. The only answer he got was a faint ‘what’ from the shared bathroom.

“Mates listen to this,” James said firmly, reading the letter out loud. That got their attention. “Our robes are all green. Vivid Slytherin green!”

Remus got up suddenly, with wide eyes rushing to check his almirah. He groaned loudly on finding them in the same predicament James foretold grass-like and smelling heavily of flowers. Sirius however, started crackling.

“What?” James bellowed, his nostrils flaring.

“Well, the sarcasm in that letter is…” He snorted, stopping himself seeing James’s frown. James shook his head as Remus glared at them both.

“This has a strong one-week dye,” he said, punctuating each word, infuriated. “There’s no way it can be removed before the expected time. Why should I suffer for all the things you two do?”

“And I am not suffering?” James quipped back as Remus just shook his head, huffing, and went back to his bed. James looked at Sirius who didn’t look worried at all.

“What? Aren’t you bothered at all?” James asked.

“I look great in everything,” he replied shrugging, making James want to punch him.

He dressed up quickly after, dashing out of the dorm towards the great hall. Ignoring the looks of the students from around and the snickers he looked for you amidst the Slytherin table. It was infuriating, how casually you ate your breakfast, almost oblivious. Stalking towards your place, he cleared his throat grabbing your attention. Your eyes sparkled amusedly, taking in his appearance.

“Why the hell did you do this?” he demanded.

“Now, that’s not a way to talk about the gift I gave you,” you said, batting your eyelashes as he scowled at you. You muttered a spell under your breath, waving your wand slightly before continuing. “I worked hard, you know?”

“You Slytherins are the best thing to walk on this planet!” he shouted before he could stop himself. His eyes grew large. Everyone’s attention now seemed to be on your table.

“Thank you, I know,” you smirked, challenging him. He narrowed his eyes on you.

“You put a speaking charm on me didn’t you?” he hissed as you put on an innocently sweet expression.

“Well, I thought you needed some help with words,” you prompted, getting better reactions than you hoped for. James growled, jumping up and down in annoyance. You tried not to laugh. Did. But the corners of your mouth turned up anyways. He looked like an idiot. The giggle you let out grabbed his attention, his cheeks turning a rosy red.

“I don’t like you,” he said in a rather squeaky voice.

“I don’t like you,” you retaliated. James hated himself for thinking the laugh you let out looking adorable. Anger, which was more of a frustration gawned on his skin. He knew exactly what he was going to do next. Giving you a sickly sweet smile, he enjoyed the slight shiver that went through your arm. Let the prank war begin.

-♡♡♡-

You rushed out of the bathroom, vexed. It had been a long exhausting day and this was the last thing you needed. Your skin was tinted green. Bright neon green. Elodie stared at you in stupor.

“What happened?” she asked and you couldn’t help the raucous whine that escaped your lips.

“I don’t know, okay? I was in the shower and after using soap, my skin turned freaking green,” you hissed as Elodie tried to calm you. You handed her a small piece of paper. “Oh and look what I found beside the shampoo bottle.”

Dear (Y/n),

A gift from me, to showcase your pride in your house. You could thank me later.

James.

P.S. This gift in no way means I’ve started liking you. I don’t.

“James. James did this; that bastard!” you said, nostrils flaring as Elodie rubbed your back.

“Well, it’s just hands and legs…”

“I'm gonna get back at him. Just watch me.”

Your jaw clenched. You knew just what you were gonna do. James started a fight with the wrong person. And you didn’t like him. At all.

-♡♡♡-

You were reading your book when you saw James pacing towards you, from the corner of your eye. Trying to keep a straight face, you fixed your gaze on the book in your hand. Yet you couldn’t help the twitch your mouth gave as he stood right in front of you, folding his arms.

“Wow,” he breathed through clenched teeth. You looked up.

“Real mature of you,” he said in a baby’s voice. It sounded like he pronounced everything through his nose. You made an effort not to start crackling right then.

“Well, one of us had to be, right?”

“Yeah. And giving me the baby voice makes you the adult.”

“I’d think so, yes.” You said brushing his hair. They were surprisingly soft. James glared at you.

“I don’t like you.” He squeaked as you raised an eyebrow.

“I thought we already established that. I don’t like you either boy,” You said, letting out a laugh.

-♡♡♡-

Adjusting your cap, you pulled your books closer to you. It was like everyone was staring at you. Specifically how stupid you looked. A whistle caught your attention. James, it had to be. When you turned towards the sound, you were sadly proved right.

“I like your cap,” he commented, clicking his tongue.

“Geez. Thank you. Just bought it,” you said, threateningly. Take one step James, I dare you; you thought. He didn’t get the message.

“I wonder how it would look on me,” he said, taking a step towards you. You hissed.

“Sorry, not gonna let you borrow it,” you tried to say in a normal tone, but it came out quite high pitched. James dared to grin.

“What if I just…” he said, coming closer as you took a step back, glowering at him in a warning. Not that he took it. He snatched the cap from your head as the long white hair fell. They reached your feet.

“James, give it back,” you warned and he put it on his head.

“Nope,” he said, his eyes full of mischief. You hesitated at his expression, he looked as candid as a child. Maybe you never noticed it, his hair fell round in pretty curls, framing his face. James winked, making you break out of your reverie.

“I think,” he said thoughtfully. “I think I’m going to keep this cap with me, I quite like it. If you want it back, you’re gonna have to take it from me.”

James took a step back as your eyes dilated. He turned around and started sprinting in that direction.

“James!” you shouted, chasing him.

People around you bolted aside, gasping at the scene. A ghostly white-haired student chasing after James as he chortled. It had been going for quite some time and everyone wondered who would win. Few in the favour of James, who had been pranking ever since he set foot in Hogwarts; a few for you since you were a Slytherin and Slytherins never lose. Others just shook their heads, wishing they would get it over with already the cat and mouse game was becoming rather tiring. No one however had the courage to raise their opinions out loud, lest they got involved in the prank war.

-♡♡♡-

“James," you said calmly, though the atmosphere made you anything but. Thick hot fumes rose from all around you making beads of sweat form on your forehead. "James, this doesn’t go in. We have to stir it first.”

“Why don’t you do it then? Little miss know-it-all” he snided. You looked at him fiercely. Slughorn had paired the two of you together for the next project and it couldn’t be more of a disaster. Only if he could just listen.

“I would if you let me,” you pointed out, finally taking over the shared pot. James watched you take a few breaths before starting to work on the potion. Muttering for ingredients from him now and then, you stirred the concoction. Soon, it started to show the exact signs given in their books.

James couldn't help but stare at you as you worked, humming to yourself all the while. You seemed cute like that, bending over the book, occasionally muttering to yourself. His face heated up when you caught his gaze. Luckily he could blame it on the heat.

“Could you cut some beetroots for me?” you asked, ignoring the way he flushed. James nodded, chopping them to the required amount. The two of you finished up fairly swiftly after that.

"So," you started after Slughorn left. He had commented on your work and applauded you both. Happiness was evident from the smiles on your faces. "Library at 4?"

James grinned, giving you a thumbs up. He packed up his stuff before turning to leave. You couldn't help but stare at his retreating figure, thinking, maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Shrugging, you shook away the thought and went your own way. There were things you had to get done that day.

-♡♡♡-

As time passed, the thought started becoming more predominant. He wasn't so bad, your mind reminded you time and time again. The more you started to know James, the more you believed in it. Constant teasing and bickering wasn’t something that became unheard of between the two of you. But it was more lighthearted now… almost as if you were friends crackling over a shared joke. James had somehow caught your eye again, in a completely different way.

It seemed you were noticing new things about him, like how he didn’t look at you with hatred. Come to think of it, was it even ever ‘hate’? Yet there was something soft about the way he gazed at you now, gentle even— you couldn’t put your finger on it. You had come to enjoy his goofy personality, the smile he gave when his eyes were light with mischief. Knowing where these musings led, you had tried your best to beat them down. What was it that you did not try? Remembering every single detail that made you despise him once, all those times your blood boiled at the prank he pulled but nothing— nothing ever worked and your heart still fluttered every time he complimented you.

Was it that bad an idea though? Liking James?

You shivered, pulling your sweater closer to you. Walking had failed to heat your body the way it always did and you reckoned that your deliberation also had something to do with that. It wasn’t about you liking him, your mind prompted, it was about whether he could feel the same way. And if you knew something, you knew that you couldn’t take the answer to be no. The skip in your step halted, and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips.

Path to the library couldn’t have been more daunting. That was until you saw James and Lily around the corner. Talking, laughing, and standing too close to be called friends. Evans, the one girl James was head over heels for, the one girl you never paid attention to much.

It was like the final shoe dropping. James and you didn’t like each other. People knew that you did as well. It was time you believed it too. Your stomach twisted up at the sight, your mood souring. You turned, walking away.

“Oi!” James called out to you, apologizing to the students he bumped into. You brisked forward, hoping to make it to your dorm. It didn’t work, James ran to catch up with you. Damn his long legs.

“Stop fucking running,” he huffed on reaching you. “Where are you going? We have a study session. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I was heading to the library but you and Evans seemed quite busy, so I thought against it,” you said, albeit aggressively. Jealousy was never a good color.

“We were just talking for a moment,” James explained. “I want us to complete the project first though.”

He looked at you, confused. It was hard controlling your anger right then. You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped your lips.

“Of course,” you said in a temper. “The faster we finish up the project, the faster you can get rid of me, right? Because you don’t like me.”

James’ smile dropped. Sadness gave way to rage. Of course, you still thought that even after all the time he spent with you.

“Yeah. I don’t like you,” he hissed, gritting his teeth. “So let’s complete the project, shall we? To get rid of each other?”

You looked away. It was the last thing you wanted to hear. You yearned for him to tell you otherwise, to apologize for his words, and to reassure you that it wasn’t so. That you two were something. Friends, companions, anything but this. Yet the bigger part of you told you that he was right. And you were nothing to him.

“Yeah, sure.”

-♡♡♡-

The following study session was tense. You two never worked quietly. Jokes, laughs, and incessant chatter filled the air when you were together. James had regretted his words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He watched your expression fall and a wall build up around you. Your eyes hadn’t met his since. It ate him up. Somehow he didn’t know how to break the bubble he created.

He hated seeing you close off to him.

You heaved a sigh checking the last lines you’d written and then looked at the clock. It had been two hours.

“I think we should stop. There are just two pages left, we can do them tomorrow and you’ll be free,” you said, packing up your things. James opened and closed his mouth as you picked up your bag.

“Hey, wait!” he said as you turned towards him.

“I didn’t mean to, “ James started, but you cut him off.

“James, it’s alright,” you said, taking a deep breath blinking away the tears that emerged. “I understand. You don’t like me, I don’t like you and we’re stuck together for some time. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

James sucked in a breath. That wasn’t right. At all.

“But—“

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” a voice came and you shifted to see Elodie. You looked over at James, whose eyes pleaded you to stop. But you couldn’t.

You left the library, walking towards your friend leaving behind the boy who stood transfixed at his spot. Why did he feel like he was losing everything? He grudgingly moved his feet towards the common room, your thoughts plaguing his mind. James heard a shout behind him, twisting to see Lily jog up to him.

“James, I was wondering,” she began biting her lip. “Maybe we could sneak out for some butterbeers today? It’s freezing and the snow looks heavenly.”

James found himself shaking his head. His mood was far too spoiled for anything.

“Not today, Lily,” he answered. “I’m tired.”

“Oh, I meant it as a date, you know?” Lily added hopefully. James considered her for a moment. It was everything he had wished for years. Yet he couldn’t feel the happiness that should have come with it. He wanted, no— he needed someone else, someone who made him far giddier. He needed you.

It was like a bolt striking him. He had never been so sure of anything else. Unable to keep the grin off his face, he spoke his next words in a rush.

“Lily, I’m sorry but I can’t,” he shouted, sprinting towards the dungeons. Running through the rather empty corridors he saw the snow which coated the grounds. His breath came out in puffs as he urged himself to move faster. He stopped when something caught his eye. You. Standing out in the snow, looking at the sky with a smile.

Moving towards you, he conjured up a snowball and threw it on your back. Your eyes widened in shock as you jumped, looking towards him.

“What now James?” you snapped.

He conjured up yet another ball and threw it at you. Your eyes grew larger and you glared at him.

“I wanted to say something,” he said as you conjured up a ball and threw it at him in response. He hissed at the icy sensation.

“Then say it.”

“I don’t want to get rid of you,” he said, throwing a snowball at you as your teeth clattered at the sensation. You threw a snowball in return, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Then stop acting as you do.”

He threw yet another ball at you.

“You make me act like that,” he stated. You threw a huge one in response.

“I make you act like an idiot?”

“Yes, you drive me crazy,” he said, throwing some snow at you as you grunted.

“Then why don’t you leave me alone?” you huffed as he threw yet another ball at you, making you cough and splutter.

“Because I can’t.”

“Why?” you asked, throwing a ball at him.

“Because I can’t leave the best thing that happened to me,” he said, making you stop. You stalked towards him and poked his chest with every word you spoke.

“I'm the best thing that happened to you? What is this? Some kind of sick prank? You don’t even like me,” you sobbed, frustrated and angry. That was how he made you feel. Everything all at once. James didn’t know how to answer you so he just took your hand away and cupped your cheek with his other one, leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes fell shut as feeling his lips against yours. You grabbed his shirt pulling him closer feeling his arms tighten around your hips, sucking his bottom lip. When you pulled away you both caught your breath.

“I promise those are the truest words I’ve ever said,” he whispered, his hair messier than usual. He cradled your face, pressing his lips against your forehead. You crossed your arms.

“I still don’t like you,” you said in faux anger. James let out a teary chuckle.

“I don’t like you either,” he replied, smiling.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill ​ which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Blood and Water: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: a monthly sibling dinner turns into a much more exciting tradition. Y'all know where I'm going with this.

wc: 2.4k

tw: NSFW (former step-siblings, unprotected sex)

masterlist

Your doorbell rings every first Saturday of the month at 7 pm.

Depending on their schedules, your siblings would show up one after the other or together, but either way, they would show up. Satoru, Shoko, and your step-brother, Suguru.

The tradition started right after your stepmother and father had divorced and moved to different places across the country, leaving you and your adult siblings scrambling for some way to reconnect and stay together.

Thus, Sibling Saturday is created, and you all bring a dish (or buy one, in Satoru's case) for the potluck where you sit around the table and talk about the events of the past month in great detail, often staying overnight due to the amount of wine and beer consumed.

This week, you're in the middle of cooking a pasta recipe you'd stumbled across when your doorbell rings. Admittedly, you'd gotten home late (because of a certain boss that asked you to come in on Saturdays to help rework the blueprints), but when you open the door, you're greeted by Shoko and Satoru, who smile widely and bombard you with compliments, as always.

"You look so good!" Satoru gushes as he enters the kitchen.

"I'm just wearing an apron and a dre--"

"But you're so pretty!" Shoko adds, beaming at you and squishing your cheeks. "What're you cooking this week?" Satoru places two different dishes on the table as you walk back over to the basil pesto pasta cooking on the stove. "Smells so good..."

You smile and stir the pot twice, then look back over at your sister and brother, who are placing the plates and silverware around the table. And for a brief moment, you feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the small family bonds that have maintained themselves, despite the hardships you've endured.

"Where's Suguru?" you inquire, and Shoko answers you quickly.

"Oh, he's at the studio today but he said he'd come right after he finished." The doorbell rings right at that moment, and you put your spoon down to attend to the guest, who is undoubtedly your former step-brother.

"Thought you might not make it," you tease, and the dark-haired man leans over to hug you as he chuckles, his long locks brushing your shoulder.

"Just finished up filming the special report," Suguru answers, squeezing your arm. "Had to refilm the last part of the report."

"And you're excited about it?" Shoko calls out from the dining room.

"Of course." Suguru walks into the kitchen, then peeks at your pasta before smiling back at you. "It's going to air in a week. My first special report, y'know?" You grin back at him and shift the pot off the stove before turning it off.

"We'll all get together and watch it when it airs," Satoru suggests, taking the lid off of his purchased cupcakes and reaching in for one, ignoring your disapproving look. "And make a celebration of it."

"I love that plan," Suguru murmurs, pushing his shirt sleeves up to his elbows before setting the beer and wine bottles on the table. "Thanks, you guys. Want anything to drink, Shoko?"

"Nah, I have to be at a birthday party in the early afternoon," she answers, waving her hand in the air.

"Satoru?" But Gojo already has a beer in his hand, so no further discussion is required on his part.

"I drove him here," Shoko begins, rolling her brown eyes and fiddling with her hair. "So it looks like I'll be driving back too."

Satoru groans, pulling the bottle away from his lips. "You roll the seat up too far. I couldn't drive even if I wanted to."

"Still on your 'no alcohol' thing?" your sister asks, and you nod. "Geez. Can't imagine it."

_____________________________________________________________

"I'll help you clean up," Suguru offers, a little unsteady on his feet.

"You don't have to," you retort, but he's is already gathering the dishes to put in the sink. Satoru leans back, his blue eyes staring at the ceiling as he groans loudly.

"Gonna feel this in the morning."

"Should get you home," Shoko mumbles and stands, the chair scraping against the floor. "Got a lot to do tomorrow." You say your goodbyes, making sure Shoko and Satoru get to their car safely, before closing the door and shifting back to Suguru.

"Staying the night?" you ask, moving to the sink and turning on the water.

"I think so," he begins, undoing the top button of his shirt. "Drank a lot." You shrug, not really having noticed him drinking at all, but sure that during your tale of your recent breakup, you had missed it.

"Go ahead and get comfortable," you encourage. "I'll finish cleaning up." Suguru flashes his winning smile at you and then departs, leaving you alone in the kitchen. About fifteen minutes later, you put the last dish on the rack, and then dump the dishwater into the sink. Mindlessly, you wipe the counter, then walk to your room as you remove your apron. You hear someone grunting softly, and assume that Suguru is having a hard time, so you backtrack to the guest room, where you see the guest bathroom light on.

"Y/n..." you catch, and you walk to the bathroom door, which is slightly cracked, and you look through it to see if Suguru is okay.

But you were wrong about him having a hard time.

Suguru is facing the mirror, jerking his thick cock repeatedly. "Oh, god..." he moans, his hair falling behind his face as he tilts his head back. "That pussy feels so fucking good."

You want to walk away to give him so privacy, but... you can't move. You're frozen in place as Suguru shoots his cum onto the counter, his mouth dropping open as he squeezes his eyes shut, the white fluid hitting the mirror a little while his cock throbs angrily. You swallow hard, watching him come down from his high in silence before his eyes flick up to the crack in the door.

And to your face.

With this, the spell cast over your feet is broken, and you walk away from the scene, hurrying to your room and shutting the door. You stand in your room, shocked and slightly unnerved by the sight. But it's only when you're showering that you realize there's a considerable amount of slick between your thighs.

_____________________________________________________________

Sleep is laced with dreams of Suguru plowing into you, his eyes holding you captive and fingers tugging on your nipples. You even cum a few times, but when you awake in the morning, you realize it was all a machination of your mind.

Groggily, you stumble out of bed and walk into the kitchen to make coffee and possibly eat something. But when you see Suguru standing in the kitchen in his pajamas, you flush a little. He notices you right away, smiling as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Morning," he chirps brightly, and you smile briefly before moving to get a mug from the cupboard. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you murmur quickly, avoiding looking at him as you make your own cup of coffee.

"Look, y/n... about last ni--"

"It's fine." You turn to the fridge, pulling out the milk and setting it on the counter as Suguru stands, setting the newspaper down.

"Actually," he begins. "It's not."

"No, really," you mutter, but your ex-stepbrother places a hand between you and your coffee, effectively blocking you from doing anything else.

"Y/n, I have to confess that I have feelings for you," Suguru mumbles, and you look up at him in confusion, searching his black eyes for some clarity. "I've had feelings for you for a long time. And I was thinking... we're not related by blood or by paper anymore. Is it possible for me to pursue you?" Your lips part, but no sound comes out of them. "I'll give you time to think about it, but--"

"You're a public figure, Su..." you offer, but he shrugs his broad shoulders.

"Not really a concern of mine."

"What about me? My job? What if they find out we used to be--"

"Used to be." The emphasis makes you pause. You turn to the sink, eyes downcast as your hands grip the polished edge of the counter. "Please," Suguru whispers, coming up behind you and sliding his fingers up your nightgown. "You're so perfect. So beautiful... Having you as my stepsister was amazing, but now..." He kisses the space below your earlobe, and you close your eyes, moaning loudly.

"Su," you start, but can't find any other words to say. Would you really be able to say no to yourself now, when for years you'd wanted nothing more than this very moment to happen?

"Your cooking is amazing... and you and that asshole finally broke up. Just let me make you feel good. Just one time," he breathes into your ear, and you shudder, the feeling working from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. "And if you don't want it... say 'no' and I'm done. I'll never do it again." The fingers that are below your nightgown creep up to the waistband of your underwear, tugging at them suggestively.

"Okay," you breathe, and Suguru inhales deeply, pulling your panties down and letting them drop the floor. He doesn't speak as his fingers roam over your flesh, gripping certain areas with glee before he kneels, trapping your ass between his hands.

"Stay still for me, princess," he whispers before spreading your ass cheeks. "Such a pretty pussy." When Suguru's tongue hits your slick, you immediately raise up on your tiptoes, but his tongue chases your core, slipping across your clit and back up leisurely. You moan again, squeezing your eyes shut as he drives you insane.

"Suguru," you pant, and he hums, hand gripping your right ass cheek a little more. Your fingers reach behind you and grab onto his hair, pushing him into your cunt even more. Your legs begin to shake violently, knees hitting the cupboard below the sink, and Suguru hums again, tongue speeding its movements up. You finally give in to the building orgasm, letting go of his locks and gripping the sink as you buckle. Suguru continues to lap at you as you come down, slurping up your juices loudly before pulling back and licking his lips.

"So good," he murmurs, standing and pushing down his pants to reveal his twitching cock. You move to your knees immediately, taking his length in your hand and licking the tip gently. Su hisses, leaning against the chair behind him, and tilts his head to the side, watching you take the tip in your mouth and suck. You work half of his cock into your mouth before he reaches his hand down and tangles it through your hair. "No hands, princess."

You obey without question, and he bobs your head up and down for you, the head of his thick length hitting the back of your throat and making a clicking noise. "Good girl," Suguru groans, adding another hand to your hair. Tears begin to gather on your waterline as he fucks your mouth, and you swipe your tongue on the backside of his cock when you can to add to the pleasure, placing your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself.

But Suguru pulls out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting his cock to your lower lip. "Stand up and bend over," he orders, and you do so, waiting patiently for him as he tugs at his length while watching you. With his foot, Suguru kicks your legs a little wider then steps between them, nudging the head of his cock against your pussy. "Yep, you're good and ready."

He pushes into you - or tries to, really - then pulls back, grunting. "Tight little thing you've got there," he mentions, spreading your cheeks with one hand. He rubs his cock up and down against your slit, trying again to slide into you, but finding too much resistance. "Arch your back." Your hips go a little higher, but Suguru finds his grip again, finally able to push himself into you a little. You hiss, feeling a sharp jolt of pain, but he pushes you back down with his broad hand.

"Oh, Suguru..." you whine, looking back. He swipes your hair away from your face, eyes meeting yours.

"Shh, shh... It's alright," he whispers, working himself into you with care, one hand on your hip and another resting on your shoulder. "Just relax." You groan again, tucking your head between your hands on the counter. After a few minutes, you release all of the tension in your lower body, and Suguru sighs, pushing into a little deeper. Immediately, his hips are able to connect with yours, and the sounds of your fucking echo in the kitchen.

"Fuck..." you moan, feeling his entire length shift in and out of you, hitting spots your ex couldn't explore. "Feels so fucking good."

"Yeah?" Su wonders, panting. "Such a good pussy. Never felt this perfect..." He speeds up a little, leaning over your back, and kissing your shoulder blade. "I can feel your cervix when we're like this." You groan loudly, tossing your head back. Suguru catches your neck with his hand, leaning your head back.

Your eyes cross, and he huffs a laugh, but your entire body is too full of him and thoughts of him to care.

"Please," you whisper, but you don't know what you're asking for, really. "Please." Suguru's eyebrows scrunch together, onyx eyes focusing on your expression.

"Oh, that's it," he hums. "Already cock-drunk, huh?" You try to nod, but all you can do is manage a strangled moan. A hand is lifted and smacks your ass as he continues fucking you, which is a welcome jolt of pain to add to the pleasure. Your former stepbrother eases his head back, observing the way his cock drives into your pussy. "You should see this... your pussy grips my cock so nicely, and you're creaming all over me."

"Oh, god..." you whine, keeling forward. "Suguru, make me cum."

"Say it again."

"Su, make me cum!" you cry out, shaking furiously.

"What's the magic word?" he pants.

"Please!" He reaches between your legs, rubbing your clit quickly. "Sugur---" You break off with a deep inhale, clenching around him fiercely. Suguru's breath hitches too as he spills his seed inside of you, hips slamming into your cunt three times before his hands slacken around your body. He hunches over you, cradling your body as his head rests on your back.

"That was better than I ever imagined," Suguru finally admits.

"Better than I dreamt last night, too." He laughs, fingers holding you tighter.

"Let me be your boyfriend, y/n."

"What's the magic word?" you shoot back, smiling.

"Please."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @savantsoulfinder @chilledlucifer @kontentious @flare-on @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle

[tuiyla]

since we're bring up the subreddit's greatest hits, I think my last straw was the 5th post within like 3 days that was basically "how dare Santana taint the beauty of finchel by ruining their perfect prom memory". I'm not here to argue it was her finest moment, but my god, the way people blow that out of proportion. And all just to canonize Finn, as if he shouldn't have been kicked out of that prom in the first place anyway. frankly, I'm glad Santana "ruined" that cringe moment.

The subreddit's greatest hits and it's just the most tired takes you've ever heard lol. What a time it was to check it several times a day.

I feel like that one's a classic but one I haven't heard in so long I sort of just blocked it. People get so obsessed with that particular detail. Like, I'm sorry, but out of Santana's whole rant that's the thing you think is the worst thing she's ever said? Obviously it was cruel, but in the context of how I feel about the whole scene and 100 Pezberry stuff in general I really don't pay it much attention.

But my god people love to shit on Santana for that one thing in particular. Let me play Satan's advocate for a moment and be the blatantly biased Santana stan people think I am lol. She wasn't lying, was she? All Santana did was reveal that it was only because of her and Quinn that Rachel got the crown. Frankly, I don't know what Rachel thought happened. I mean, even in the scene itself she fears it's a joke. If I were Rachel, I'd be pissed that Santana would stoop so low as to want to ruin my prom moment, sure, but then I'd think for a second and realize what that stupid bitch was actually saying. That she and Quinn both cared about Rachel enough to want to give her the crown, completely disregarding McKinley's vote. That's got to count for something, and sure it got revealed by Santana being a bitch but if the Pezberry feud proved anything it's that Rachel's got to see Santana's good side more. But, I mean, yeah, it was a low blow from Santana. Not earth-shatteringly cruel tho by any means.

And also, and this is what gets me: the scene never brings up Finn. Santana never does, Rachel never does. It's the fans who automatically think, oh how dare she ruin that Finchel moment. And I think that's doing Rachel a disservice, who probably did very much like her dance and joint triumph with Finn but it meant more than that to her. She specifically highlights her friends' belief in her mattering the most. And that meaning stays even after the revelation because Quinntana believed in her, even if, in her hurt, Santana used the fact against Rachel. So what I'm trying to say is that, because of Cory Monteith's and therefore Finn's tragic death the fans have this tendency to consider certain things sacred. But it's them who gave that scene this meaning, not the scene in 100 that has nothing to do with Finn being gone and Santana somehow intentionally ruining Rachel's memory of him. That's literally not what happened and even Santana wouldn't stoop so low as to insult his memory, not to Rachel.

In general, season 5's approach beyond The Quarterback and special mentions here and there, like City of Angels and Bash IIRC is to ignore the Finn elephant in the room. And so it's annoying when people cherry-pick when he's relevant and what callbacks are specifically about him when, in fact, they're not. And it's like they're reducing s5-6 Rachel to Finchel, too, in a way, which is its own thing. I have seen people on the subreddit say they can't fully love Santana because of this particular action and I'm sorry, that's just bonkers. Specifically because she ruined this Finchel memory for Rachel? That's not even what the scene is about. You're getting mad at fictional character Santana Lopez because of a leap in logic you have made. At least get mad at her for the right reasons, geez, like her transphobic comment and overall behaviour in this scene. But no, it's one of those fandom things where an interpretation gets spread like wildfire and people forget what's actually in the text. It's like getting mad at Blaine for something he did in a fanfic.

And you know what Anon, I think I'm with you on being glad that moment was ruined lol. Because I find that moment so incredibly obnoxious and I think it's my top 1 worst Finchel moment, so. It's a contended spot though.

[pudimsuki]

Hitoshi Shinsou, Female Plus-Size Clothing Store at the Mall, and SFW please and thank you!!

Hitoshi Shinsou x Plus-sized reader

Hi ❤ Sorry this took so long!

I don't usually write for specific readers, cause I'm always afraid that I end up generalizing things or don't representing in the right way, BUT I made an exception for this one cause the idea it's so cute ❤

It has a little angst in the middle, I'm sorry, I know you just asked for SFW! My friend was talking to me the other day about shitty friends, so I got inspired and wrote it without noticing. I'm really sorry if this turned out a lil' generic.

“I’m not trying this.”

“Oh c’mon, Hitoshi. Pleeeeeease.”

You looked at your grumpy boyfriend with pleading eyes,holding up to him an article of clothing that he refuses to try but you knew, you knew, it would look good on him.

You both were currently shopping at the mall. Well, it was more like you were forcing Shinsou to shop with you at the mall, but just details, right? And besides, even with his lack of patience to jump from store to store like you loved to do, he wasn’t one to say no to you. Not when you looked so cute with those big puppy eyes.

He rolled his eyes, taking the cloth from your hand. “Fine. But this is the last one.”

“Promise”. You said with a winning smile while he went to the changing room.

As soon as he was out of your sight, you decided to look for a few more things for yourself while waiting for him. Your eyes lit up when you found the dress you wanted so badly. It was a black plus size dress that left your back in plain sight and valued your thighs.

You smiled to yourself, turning around with him in your arms the moment Shinsou walked out of the locker room, dressed in the shirt you picked out for him.

As predicted, it fit like a glove. And the color matched his hair along with his purple irises.

You raised your eyebrows at him. "Sooo?"

He shrugged, not wanting to admit you were right. "It's not so bad."

"HA! I knew it!"

He snorted but smiled along with you. "What do you have here?" Shinsou asked, looking at the outfit you were carrying, but before you could show him, a familiar voice caught your attention.

“(Y/n)!”

Oh, no. Your afternoon was too good to be true

You closed your eyes for a second at the sound of that voice.

“(Y/n)”, she called again, this time closer.

Shinsou raised an eyebrow in a questionable way, but you just shook your head before sighing and turning to your old school “friend”.

"Hey", you wave while she approaches you. You didn’t sound very excited.

The girl, Yuki, went to the same school as you when you were younger. For a long time you thought you were friends, until you realized she liked to spend extra time in her life subtly lowering your self-esteem.

"What a surprise to see you, I didn't think I'd find you here!"

"Yuki, it’s been a long time. Just doing some shopping. What about you?" You replied, trying to be polite.

"The same. Wow, geez! We got the same dress" she says, pointing to herself, who already wore the model. "I just tasted it. What do you think?" She rotates her body so that you can also see her back.

"It looks... great." You answered honestly. It did look great, the fabric hugging her body which, you couldn't help noticing, with her long legs and tiny waist, made her look like a model. You tried not to think about it.

"Oh yes. It matched my skin tone, didn't it?"

"Of course," you muttered.

Then she looked at Shinsou, who remained silent behind you, hands in his pants pockets. Her entire posture changed. "Oh, who is this?" She gave a flirtatious smile, "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

You had to control your tongue upon noticing the way she looked at him.

Fifteen seconds, Yuki. Can't go fifteen seconds without trying to hit on him?

But apparently, Shinsou also noticed, to which he only replied:

"I'm her boyfriend."

"Oh." She blinked, having the decency to look a little embarrassed at his dry tone. "Right. Uh, I better get going. See you around, (Y/n). Hope the dress fits well."

You forced a smile. “Right.”

The moment she left, Shinsou stepped in front of you. "Who was that?"

"Old friend."

He frowned at your tone. "Didn't look like a friend."

You just shrugged. "We studied together."

"I see."

You cleared your throat, putting the cloth you’re holding on the pile again. “You know what, I think we better get going.”

“You’re not gonna try the dress?”

You gave him a small smile, not feeling so excited as you were before. You hated the fact that she still can get to your mind and made you insecure, even after all this time. “Nah, it’s getting late. And besides, I know you don’t like shopping as much as I do, so… I can buy it another day.”

He just crossed his arms, unconvinced. Shinsou knew how much you had been drooling over that dress all week, so he clearly didn't buy your answer.

“You know we’re not gonna live until you tell me what’s going on, right?”

You sighed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Yeah, you knew how stubborn he could be. So you finally admit.

“It’s just that… I don’t know, I was just thinking… Would you like more if I was… You know, like her?” You looked to the ground, not so sure you wanna face him. He remains in silence for a moment.

“Look at me.”

You didn’t.

“(Y/n), look at me.”

Then again.

“Don’t make me use my quirk on you”. You laughed a little, rolling your eyes, and finally gave in, finding his purple irises looking lovingly at you.

“That girl was pretty, indeed, but so are you. You don’t need to be like her or anyone else to be beautiful. You are perfect for me, every single part of you. And I hope you never forget how much I love you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat at his words. You felt like a fool for doubting that. Shinsou held your face, caressing your cheek.

“Now, why don’t you try that dress you were holding? I wanna see your pretty thighs on it.”

This time you laughed, happier than ever.

Our bodies are perfect, no matter if you're thin, chubby, or athletic. Love yourself!

Thank you for reading and for the support!

Angie ❤

[any comments will be answered with my main account @angie-1306]

[bestialchorus]

The Invisible String- Chapter 5 (Final)

You feverishly kiss Donna back while rushing into the hallway, your grip tightens as she pulls you flush against her. To think, just hours earlier a simple grazing of skin burned your flesh like acid. But now you eagerly embrace each other’s desperate desire, welcoming all that was originally hidden in the darkness as it rises to the surface. You never could have predicted the woman returning your feelings, let alone with such vigor. You’ve only kissed and yet, Donna kisses you as if she’s trying to express something that cannot be said through words, speaking a language only possible through love and lust. Every touch is making it harder for you to keep your composure.

For a split second you think about heading to Donna’s room, only to quickly abandon the idea once you remember it’s full of dolls. You assume it best for all parties if you were away from prying eyes. The only witness to your passions is the grandfather clock you run by as you awkwardly enter your room, shutting the door behind you with a kick of your foot, your hands much too preoccupied to help.

Brilliant rays of sunlight shine into your window, illuminating the cozy room you’ve been occupying for the past year.

The bed dips under Donna as you lower her as gently as you can despite the haste in your movement. But the dollmaker has no intention of separating, you smile as she brings you down with her, bracing your hands on either side of her head. The plush bed anchors you as reality begins to melt away, all that exists is Donna and the little sounds of pleasure she exudes as you kiss her harder….but you want more, no, you needmore.

Donna almost protests when she feels your lips leave hers, only to release a small sigh once you start peppering kisses along her jawline. Already she feels slightly delirious, slowly catching her breath as you lovingly mark her skin and mark her you do. Donna cradles your face as you trial down her neck, softly gasping as you start to leave a hickey, her alabaster skin quickly bruises. The sensation is new for her but hardly an unwelcome one as she feels her core pulse, her body embracing, no, aching, for more. Warmth plagues her skin, making her head feel heavy as her physical desires start to take over. You make your way back to her lips, lightly nipping at her skin, leaving as many “signs” of your love as you can. You selfishly want to let the world know she is yours and you are hers. It’s primitive and a bit animalistic but you can’t help it, there’s something about the woman with veil trying to hold back her erotic sounds as you make her yours that brings out another side of you. The image of her snowy skin turning pinker as every touch overwhelms her is almost intoxicating.

When you finally pull away, heavy breathing fills the air as you admire each other. Her hair is sprayed across the sheets, finally free, crowning her with a dark halo. The image reminds you of the angels you’ve see on stained glass windows, appropriate considering you wish to worship her in every sense of the word. Her gaze locks onto yours, her eye is completely black now, like a void calling for you to get lost within it once more.

Donna places a hand on your cheek, worry evident on her face as her voice brings you back.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Is something wrong?”

You must have been staring at her longer than you realized.

You lightly shake your head, taking a few seconds to look down at her, REALLY look at her before answering. “You’re just……so beautiful, Donna.” You say with a breathy whisper, almost in disbelief of her existence.

Surprise flashes over her face for a few seconds, clearly not expecting such a response. Donna avoids your gaze as her cheeks flare up, her demeanor shrinks as she speaks.

“You just…..you’ve always just been too nice to me, Y/N.” She softly retorts, trying to find the hidden meaning behind your statement. *You don’t have to lie to me, I know what I look like*- she thinks, her expression riddled with insecurity and doubt.

Your eyes slightly narrow as you study her, gaze lingering as you try to process her statement, your expression unreadable as various emotions fill you. It pains you to think Donna believes you taking her bed is you simply being “nice”. But you know addressing a lifetime of anxieties isn’t exactly the best kind of pillow talk, nor is it something that can be helped overnight. But there is something you can do, right here in this moment; you can try to convince her, to show her your feelings go beyond “nice”.

The woman catches something flash over your eyes, but what exactly she can’t pinpoint. You ever so slightly bite your lip as you look away for a second before returning to her.

“I’m glad you think me kind, my love-“ You say while leaning down, your hair framing her face.

*my love* The term of endearment makes her heart skip a beat.

“..but it seems I’ve failed to properly show you how I really feel about you…” The bed creaks under you as you place a knee between her legs, the sudden pressure makes her gulp.

Your gaze locks onto her, “but I think I know how to convince you.” You finish with a low whisper, pressing your leg further against her. Donna loudly whimpers in response, quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment as she feels another pulse ripple through her core. Your own cheeks warm up from how erotic you find the sound…but you can’t help but want to hear more.

You gently remove her hand and give her a chaste kiss, her lips try to follow you as you pull away, wanting to explore your mouth once again.

“You sound as beautiful as you look.” You again overwhelm her with your words alone, your deep stare only adding to their meaning. Though you see disbelief in her eye- she doesn’t look away this time, almost as if this is her way of “compromising”.

You take your time as you lean back, bed creaking from the shift in weight as you straddle the woman, your gazes locked onto each other. Donna looks up at you, gulping as your stare doesn’t waver, instead, noticing your hand slowly start to reach towards her dress. Anticipation fills her veins as you inch closer. But right as you’re about to reach the buttons over her chest, you stop and hover for a bit before pulling back. Donna tries to suppress the anxiety that tells her “you’ve come to your senses” about wanting the one-eyed mutant. She instead tries to decipher the idea that flashes over your eyes. You catch the woman off guard, suddenly ripping your own outfit off with visible determination. You throw the clothing behind you with little care, showing no acknowledgement as it hits the floor.  

You think it may be more comfortable for the dollmaker if you were naked first…and by the way she looks at you, you may be right.

Donna’s eye travels over your figure as sunlight highlights every detail. She looks up at you with what can only be described as awe, as if she was looking at an ethereal being for the first time. You never thought much of your body.  But Donna’s expression says otherwise; for there is admiration there, mixed in with something you know too well, hunger.

“Y/N… you’re perfect.” She says earnestly and you can’t help but bashfully look away for a second as a crimson hue emerges over your face. She simply responds with a doting smile as it truly wasn’t her purpose to embarrass you, but she can’t help but adore every aspect of you, physical and all.

*Geez, for someone with little social skills she sure knows to make a girl blush.*  You think while scratching the back of your head.

You try to regain your composure through a joke, “I’m sure you say that to all the girls, Mistress Beneviento.” Your voice low and coy.

Unfortunately, Donna refuses to let you recover, continuing to rattle your composure…all without even trying.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted.”

She says without missing a beat. Her expression is as determined as it is loving, the seriousness behind the statement makes your heart race.

Oh, how you could write poems, novels, of how this moment sets your heart ablaze. How your love for this woman could be read as sermons of worship for those looking for the meaning of life, for you’ve found it in the face that looks back at you…but right now you can’t, for your mind is only full of static. Something is taking over, something more….animalistic. The heat you’ve felt late within the night as you dreamed of this woman is nothing compared to the flames that fill you now. Hell has awakened within you and it’s taking over…

Donna takes notice of how your breathing has quickened. You look down at her like a beast who has cornered its prey, she’s ashamed to admit that it excites her. Her gaze tells you to take her, to satiate your hunger and to not look back…so you do.

You capture her lips in a fevering kiss, running your hands down her dress. She quietly whimpers as she feels you begin to gently massage her chest through the heavy fabric. The pressure sparks heat between her legs, making it harder for her to kiss you as she moans against your mouth. Donna throws her arms over your shoulders as you deepen the kiss, anchoring herself as your tongue explores her.

The temperature in the room rises as Donna starts to realize just how sensitive she is, quickly becoming overwhelmed as your hands travel over her body. The dollmaker’s dress starts to feel tighter the more her arousal begins to grow. The offending fabric suddenly feels too heavy, almost suffocating as she aches for your touch against her skin.

Eventually your hands graze over the buttons on her collar once again, Donna holds you there with a fierce grip. The gesture makes you break the kiss, you look down at her in a slight daze. You’re met with a flushed Donna, her pale skin now wearing a prominent blush. The woman’s gaze travels down your body, taking her time before quickly flickering back towards her hands, squeezing tighter as she tries to tell you what she needs. You take the hint and begin undoing the first button, gently addressing her.

“Are you sure? There’s no rush.” You say with a slight shake to your head, looking to her for consent.

Normally Donna loves your patience but not now, not when she feels as if she could combust at any moment.

“Please, Y/N. Please don’t stop.” She pleads with a rasp to her voice, looking up at you with desperation. The image makes your cheeks burn, creating heat between your legs.

You lower yourself back down to her, matching her whisper. “Okay…” You claim her lips once again, “okay..”

Donna’s grip instantly loosens as you taste her again, hands surrendering as she feels you unbutton the rest of her dress. Your heart drums against your chest as you undo the final button, leaning back as you gently help the woman maneuver out of the outfit, finally removing it and her underwear with it. You toss the articles of clothing to the side, the fabrics gently smack against the floor.

Your eyes fall onto the woman before you. Donna sits on her knees; hands covering her chest as goosebumps naturally form over her newly bare skin. She wears a bashful look, trying not to retreat as your gaze travels over her. You notice the occasional patch of mutation over the right side of her body, very similar to her eye. But just like the rest of her face, the rest of her body is equally porcelain in nature. Everything about it is just so……perfectly Donna. You cup her face and softly smile at her.

“Thank you for trusting me…” You whisper while lightly caressing your thumbs over her cheeks. The woman hangs off your every word, taking in all of you as you take in all of her.

“Thank you for letting me see you…..but now I want to show you how beautiful I find you.”

Your words make her heartbeat quicker.

You position yourself behind her, brushing her hair away over a shoulder as your lips meet the back her neck. She relaxes under your touch, exposing more of her skin to you as she leans into your kisses. A sigh escapes Donna as she feels your hands trace over her the outline of her shoulders, lightly grazing over her skin with the pads of your fingertips, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your amazed of how smooth she feels; even the bumps of her mutation feel almost inhumanely soft. Her skin feels less like skin and something more akin to satin.

“My gods, Donna..” You rest your head on top of her shoulder, looking down as you watch your hands makes their way towards her chest, slowly caressing up her body.  

“You’re so soft.” You coo against her ear as you cup her breasts, making a shiver run down the dollmaker’s spine. Donna feels heat pool in her core as you massage her chest, quicky losing clarity as you lovingly fondle her. She moans, slightly squirming as she feels your fingers delicately claim her nipples, rubbing them between your index and thumb. To no surprise, your Mistress is quite sensitive, the nerves in her body ignite as her peaks pebble between your fingers. Her heavy breathing arouses you, making you release a shaky breath against her ear as your eyes shut for a moment. The sensation has her desperately seek your lips once again, turning her face towards with you with a silent plea.

Your mouths meet and her lips burn your flesh. Her moans fill you as her hands suddenly cover yours. Donna slightly keels over as your lips claim her shoulders, bed creaking under your weight as you singe her skin with more hickeys. Your dominate begins to hand glide down her body, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. You only have two hands and yet it’s becoming harder for the dark-haired woman to pinpoint where exactly she begins, and where you end. With every passing second your bodies blend more into each other, becoming one as your desires finally meet.

Donna takes a breath in as the tips of your fingers inch towards her sex, biting her lip in anticipation as you move a bit too slow for her.

“Please…” she rasps, already lightheaded.

You loudly moan into her ear as your fingers enter her with ease, realizing how wet she is, she’s practically dripping. “Fuck…”

Donna immediately covers her mouth as you easily fill her. At first your pace is slow, trying your best to slowly ease her into it as her walls engulf you. The dollmaker bucks into your touch, body urging you to speed up as she tries to focus on subduing her sounds but failing as they become louder from behind her hands.

“Please let me hear you, Donna. I want to hear you.” You breathe into her ear.

You accentuate the point by lightly biting her neck. You quickly make sure to soothe the sensation by running your tongue over it and sealing it with kisses. Too overwhelmed to refute, the dollmaker throws a hand to your cheek and the other over your hand, supporting herself as vocalises everything she feels.

Her sweet sounds fill the air; whimpers making your head spin and moans making you quicken your pace. The beast still rules you, telling you to mark her so the world knows she belongs to you but there’s something else here, something much softer. Donna begins to pant against your ear, making your core burn but that doesn’t matter right now, for all you want is for her to feel sweet release. You start pumping in and out of her as quickly as you can, hand starting to cramp up, but you don’t dare slow down.

Donna’s hand tightly grips yours as she finally keels over, landing on all fours as your body mounts her from behind, your hand never leaving her centre. You decide to try something out…

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” You praise her as you nip at her ear, making her whine and you decide to push further. You continue to whisper sweet affirmations, this in combination with your fingers pumping in and out of her makes her tightly clutch the sheets, knuckles turning white. You tell your Mistress how erotic she is, how her lovely mewls stir something deep within you, pressing your body further against her from behind. Wetness starts to drip down her thigh.

Without warning, the dollmaker loudly moans, her body slightly spasms once your fingers find a certain spot. Her legs start to shake as you repeatedly press against it, confirming your discovery.

“There! Please there!” She cries, rutting harder against your hand, desperately trying to add more pressure.

You answer her plea by tightening your grip over her body and suddenly upping your pace until its relentless. Your carnal desires take over as you hook your fingers into her, filling her as deep as you can while your palm roughly hits against her clit. Donna is barely holding herself up as you rail into her, pleasure clouding her mind as you grunt against her ear.

“Y/N…” She says in between ragged whimpers.

You involuntarily buck against her, your body moving on its own as you take her both from the front and from behind. You ferally pound against your mistress.

Your voice comes out heavy with desire, as you and Donna are cheek to cheek.

“Come for me, Donna….I want you to come for me, baby.”

Hearing your voice finally sends her over the edge…

The dollmaker almost blacks out as she comes with a cry, all of her builtup pressure finally released as her body goes limp. The woman would have collapsed onto the bed if you weren’t there to support her, you hold her flush against you. You lovingly kiss Donna’s face as you continue to gently finger her, slowing your pace as you help her come down from her high.

“You did so good, my love.” You comfort the limp woman in your arms, gently lowering her onto the bed as she tries to catch her breath. She looks up at you through hooded eyes, a lazy smile on her face as she feels completely at ease, it’s as if she’s released some sort of weight, she somehow feels lighter.

You return her smile and bring your hand to your mouth. You lick your fingers clean, keeping your gaze locked onto her, waiting for her reaction. A sudden blush appears on Donna’s face, eyes widening in realization as she gulps.

“You taste delicious, Mistress.” You say playfully.

The woman lays there stunned as another pulse sparks her core, blush deepening.

“Is that..possible?” Her voice quiet but carrying genuine curiosity.

For some reason you find the question endearing and you feel that softness once again. Without thinking you straddle her and lower yourself until you’re face to face. Her eye travels over you but different this time, it’s as if she was looking at you with fresh eyes, as if you’re still Y/N but meeting you again for the first time. You gently kiss where her right eye should be, taking a pause to look at her as you press another kiss to her lips. Your actions make you realize what this softness is…but you want to show her, just, without the beast.

She happily sighs as you she feels you kiss down her body, bringing her hands to your hair once again, lightly caressing your scalp. This is when Donna notices healed lash marks down your back, narrowing her eye as she tries to process them during the quiet moment. Confusion and worry fill her but right as she’s about to raise concern, she feels you kiss her inner thighs. Her gaze meets yours and without warning you give her sex a languid lick, never breaking eye contact. Donna bucks against you, feeling her arousal return as your tongue continues to worship her.

It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up within the dollmaker, her thighs tightening around your head as you suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. But right as you feel her release coming, you stop- much to Donna’s disappointment as she whines. But you don’t leave her waiting for long as you quickly move back up her body, straddling her as you capture her lips once again.

But before she can register what’s happening you start to grind against her, rubbing your sex against hers. Donna holds you tight against her chest (consciously making sure she doesn’t disturb your marks), eye shut while gasping into your mouth as she loses herself to the sensation. It feels both heavenly and sinful. Sweat starts to run down your forehead as you give into the carnal pleasure, equally losing yourself to the moment. That is…until you look down at her.

The beast starts to fade away again, desperately trying to clutch at your senses but it’s no match for her…no one is. Your heart swells when you look at her, wound up to no end, hair in complete disarray as sounds of pleasure leave her. You now understand what the softness is…and it terrifies you. Insecurity riddles you once again as you ferally rut against her, feeling her wetness down your thigh. Donna arches her back off the bed as she’s about to come once again, further pressing herself against you as her toes curl.

No. Do not allow fear to blind you. Give yourself to her, ALL of you just as she has to you. Speak your truth and be brave, for she deserves that…and maybe..just maybe, so do you.

You feverishly capture her lips again and she matches your passion. “Donna? Donna, please look at me.” You almost plea between kisses.

Her eye flashes open, you see very little white in it, and you wonder if it’s a side effect on her mutation, regardless- it only adds to her beauty in your eyes. Donna struggles to keep your gaze as she feels you begin to speed up, responding with a shaky cry and you almost come then and there. But with the little composure you have, you speak.

“I love you…”  You begin pounding into her with everything you have, the bed loudly squeaking under you. You press your forehead against hers as you continue, your entire body tensing up as your gaze locks onto hers.

“I love you, Iloveyou,Iloveyou, Iloveyou!!” You chant over and over again as you finally bring her over the edge. Donna arches her back and violently slams against the bed with a harrowing sob. Her eye rolls into the back of her head, nails digging into your back until she quickly goes slack under you. You come just seconds later; your voice caught in your throat as the smallest sound leaves you. You see stars before immediately collapsing onto the dollmaker.

The heavy breaths of you and your lover fill the air, a small smile appears on your face as you feel her hands embrace you, holding you in her arms. You hear her sniffle and use what little strength you have; you look at her. Remnants of tears can be seen in the corner of her eye and concern covers your face. But before you can comment Donna speaks.

“It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me, Y/N. Just a bodily response to overwhelming…feelings.”

Your worry is replaced with guilt. “I shouldn’t…so quickly- I should have waited-“  You’re stopped by her finger gently pressing over your lips.

“Shhhhh, believe me when I say I enjoyed every second of it. You would know if I didn’t.” She finishes with a warm smile. She’s right, you would. You can tell when Donna is lying or feeling uncomfortable by her voice alone and currently you don’t hear any discomfort in it (or see any for that matter).

Her smile suddenly becomes bashful as she awkwardly looks away from you, forcing herself to meet your gaze again as she speaks.

“I..I just wanted to say..” She gulps and anxiously stares as you as she works up the courage to continue. Whenever Donna struggled to say something, you always told her the same thing, time and time again; take your time, there’s no rush.

You decide to reposition yourself so you’re holding her in your arms, you place a kiss against her forehead.

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” You lovingly say as you bring the comforter over both of you. This seems to give her the courage she needs.

“I..I-I love you too, Y/N. Truly I do.” You smile at her as she characteristically blushes, and you tenderly kiss her once again. Though she hasn’t voiced it yet, the head of House Beneviento would kiss you for the rest of her life if she could. When you pull back you stop just a breath away and push some stray hair behind her ear. The air shifts as you address her, your voice soft but steady.

“I can’t believe it took us this long to say it….we make quite the pair.” You finish with a playful tone and Donna responds without skipping a beat.

“At least you didn’t have to get advice from the other lords…” She admits sheepishly.

Your mouth hangs agape in shock. Donna goes on to explain how she went to her fellow Head of the Houses for confessional advice, apparently some advice ended up being more helpful than others. She also admits that certain “meeting” days was simply a coverup so she could spend time at Castle Dimitrescu. Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters were especially helpful with listening and giving Donna the confidence boost she needed to tell you.

Donna tries her best to impersonate each of the animated members of House Dimitrescu and you listen intently, enjoying very much how comfortable she seems without her veil. It feels as if a wall has disappeared between you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. She giggles when remembering how defeated Alcina looked once the young women started suggesting “sexy” lingerie as “bait” (an idea she immediately shot down, but they continued anyway). You allow her to relive her memories, admiration in your eyes until a sudden realization hits you.

“Oh my gods, Donna…”

She looks at you, curiosity evident on her face.

“…..you seduced me. I can’t believe you would use your prodigious title to seduce a poor, innocent painter like myself. The rumors are worse than world could have ever imagined, Donna Beneviento; devious seducer of young maidens…who could have guessed.” You say while feigning shock. You add to your over-the-top performance by clutching imaginary pearls, hand splayed across your forehead.

Donna gives you the lightest smack on your arm while giggling but decides to play along.

“Oh, what will innocent maidens do with a menace like me on the loose?”

In a fluid motion you straddle her once again, lowering yourself to her face as you whisper.

“I suppose it’s up to me to help satiate your hunger. It’s the only way everyone will be safe.”

A pleased smile emergences on Donna’s face, happy of where the moment is going. “Are you willing to make such a sacrifice?”

You raise an arched eyebrow at her in response, fighting back a smile. You look down at her for a few seconds before going to whisper into her ear, your voice heavy with suggestion.

“That depends, how hungry are you Mistress?”

She answers your question by grabbing your face and bringing your lips back to hers, telling you she has an insatiable appetite but maybe just maybe, you’ll be able to help with that.

[caiuscassiuss]

oppa! | ot7 (prologue)

Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. 

This is not what you meant by family.

(Based on the anime and game Brother’s Conflict, but with a twist.)

Prologue

Genre: Fluff | romance | later angst and smut. PG

WC: 2k

Warnings: For this chapter, none other than cursing.

(After some readers wanted me to post Oppa! on Tumblr, I have delivered! I really hope y’all like this haha)

[ The prologue delivers hints on who each brother will be. These hints will be bolded. Some will be very apparent, some will not. ]

Rubbing your head, your eyes glazed over the notes you took from yesterday’s lecture in preparation for today. Were you on drugs when you wrote these? It looked like chicken scratch. Was that drool in the corner?

Your ears perked up at the strains of loud music coming out of your friend’s Airpods. Hyerim, your closest friend at University, seemed oblivious as she bopped her head to the hard beat. Several classmates around the lecture hall noticed too, yet weren’t as accommodating as you and sent judgemental looks towards Hyerim.

“Hyerim,” you whispered, aware that class was starting in a few minutes. She didn’t respond, still nodding along to the music.

Pursing your lips, you plucked the small pod out of her ear. “Hyerim, your music—”

She gasped, eyes lighting up in excitement. “You liked it? Okay, so I was listening to this random rapper on SoundCloud—”

“Your music's too loud —” you hissed.

“—but the real feature is the producer, who made this beat. His name is Yoongi—” Hyerim continued on obviously, caught up in her own world.

“—that’s lovely, but can you turn your music down—” you pestered, looking around worriedly.

“—but his producer name is Gloss and he’s so talented and hot and his voice —”

Seeing the majority of the seats in the hall being filled up, you clamped your palm over her lips. She let out a whimper, finely shaped brows frowning at you.

“Have you not noticed the five separate glares you are currently getting at this moment?” you said between gritted teeth, enunciating each constant hard. You stared down each person around you who was giving Hyerim looks and, embarrassed, they averted their eyes and busied themselves with something.

“Oh wait, what?” Hyerim exclaimed. Closing a fist over her AirPod, the music continued and her eyes widened as she realized how high she had turned up the volume.

Hyerim turned to the person on her other side. “I am so sorry,” she said apologetically, the random student smiling awkwardly in acceptance.

Rolling your eyes with an unbidden smile poking at the edge of your lips, you turned back to the disaster of your notes. How were you supposed to understand this lecture when you barely wrapped your head around the last one? However, you honed in on your Calculus woes to ignore how your phone burned in your pocket and the latest text you got from your father...

So focused on your lamentation, you didn’t notice the boy behind you clear his throat. Nor did you notice the second or third time he did, each one getting progressively louder. As you attempted to retrace the argument on your paper, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

Whipping your head around, you craned your neck upwards to see where the tap had come from. To your surprise, you saw a very cute-looking boy, bangs pulled into a top knot, smiling apologetically at you from behind you.

“Hi! Yeah, do you need anything?” you smiled.

A blush rose on his chiseled cheekbones and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m super sorry to bother you about this, but I dropped my charger right next to your chair. I- uh, would you mind—?”

“Of course! No worries, it happens,” you comforted, bending down to get the coiled white wire from where your bag sat. “Here you go.”

He got up from his seat to hunch over the lecture hall desk to meet you in the middle. You eyed the large difference between each of your hands’ as you handed back the charger, as well as how huge his shoulders seemed up close.

“T-Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” you replied, turning around to open your laptop.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hyerim’s mouth partially open in disbelief.

“You need something?” you prodded.

“I—” she took a glance at the boy behind you, as if confirming something— “I’ll tell you later.”

Shrugging, you zeroed in at the lecturer at the front of the hall.

“Alright, so what was that about?”

Your Calculus lecture had just ended, and the two of you were in the mob of students leaving the lecture halls to get to lunch.

Hyerim looked surreptitiously around, black bangs swishing around her face. She leaned in like she was about to share the juiciest piece of gossip, and you unconsciously did so too.

“Did you know who that is?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

You felt your forehead crease and you gave her a look. “No, I did not.”

“Really?!” Hyerim pitched her voice high in disbelief.

You gave her a dry look.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Sometimes, I swear you’re in your own world, Y/N.”

Incredulous, you opened your mouth to argue but she waved a hand in front of you.

“That was Jeon Jungkook, Y/N! How do you not know him?”

“Oh yeah,” you snapped your fingers. “He’s that Streamer dude, right? He games and shit.”

Hyerim nodded slowly.

However, you frowned. “I heard he was intimidating and cold and stuff. Are you sure that was him? Charger boy was super nice.”

“That’s the point! It was Jung Jungkook and I have never seen him acting this soft. What did you do, ma’am? Snap him? Flash him?”

“Who do you think I am?” you sputtered. “All I was doing was thinking about how much I hated Calculus, not— not seducing someone!”

Your friend gave you a suspicious look, but decided to let go of the topic. Shaking your head, you walked past the gates of Yonsei university and into the city proper on the lookout for your favorite food place. The beeping of horns, buzzing chatter, and the small of smog filled the air as you zig-zagged between side streets to avoid busy roads.

“Excuse me,” you muttered as you pushed your way through a mob of women all entranced by something above you. Since they were not moving, you huffed and decided to see what was worth all the hype.

It was a huge, flashing LED billboard that was the central focus of the square. On it, a very sensuous looking man with blond hair and a velvet, tight-fitting suit doing some very slick moves in a dark concert hall.

Happy Birthday Jimin! It read in bright white font.

“Wah, oppa is so handsome!” a woman, who must’ve been 5 years older than the man on the screen squealed behind her white medical mask. “I’m so glad our ad turned out well.”

Her friends agreed and ooh and aahed along with her. You turned around to see if Hyerim was following you but she stood, entranced, with the mob of women on the sidewalk.

“You can thirst over him later, preferably when I am well fed,” you snapped irritably, pulling at the pink flowy material of her blouse.

She pouted but acquiesced, taking your hand as you dragged her though the intersection. All you were focused on were some good dumplings, after the mental aerobotics Calculus had forced on you and the emotional stress your father was putting you through. As you turned the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief as you saw no line.

Nestled between a large office building and a parking deck, this tiny Japanese restaurant was a favorite among Uni students for its cheap prices and good food. You usually had to arrive here early to beat the line of students and office workers that gathered here for their dinner breaks.

The cute sign that said Umaido flashed brightly above your head as you entered the restaurant. To the side of the main sigh, a smaller print reading “by the RM Group” glowed, subdued.

Waving over a pimply teen, you ordered two servings of gyoza and waited for Hyerim. She ordered a very conservative meal of sushi and some salad, and you both watched the waiter retreat. Something glossy caught the attention of your eye, and you saw some magazines on the shelf next to your head. The main one in the middle, which looked like a new age artsy publication with a cult following, was simply titled with a white V at the bottom corner.

Like a robot that was powered off, you collapsed in your seat and put your head in your hands. You really did not want to look at your phone.

“Was Calculus really that bad?” Hyerim winced in sympathy, neatly patting your head.

“It isn’t Calc,” you mumbled. “It’s Dad.”

Her expression turned down even more. “What happened?”

Lifting your head from your arms, you propped your chin on your palm and looked out the window. “You know, you’d expect for someone to give you important news in person or at least over a phone call, right?”

“Yeah?” Hyerim asked, lips pursed in confusion.

“Like, if you got remarried or something , you would at least tell your loved ones in person or at least over the phone, right ?”

“... Shit, Y/N.”

Fumbling for your phone in your bag, you ignored the notifications and pulled up your latest conversation. “Look what he texted me this morning!”

Hyerim took your phone and scrolled through it with a manicured fingernail.

Dad : I wish I could call you, but I’m somewhere with limited service.

Dad : I just wanted to let you know I got remarried to this amazing woman, Kim Seoyeon, a few days ago. We met and just clicked, something I haven’t felt since your mom.

Dad : She has seven sons, all of them are grown up. I’m worried about you living on your own, so I’d like you to move in with them. Details coming soon. Love you.

Hyerim was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My dad has gotten spontaneously remarried to some random woman and now wants me to move in with her sons. Like, geez, it’s not like life changing news was delivered to me in less than a hundred words!” you hissed, voice getting higher and tinged with a bit of hysteria.

“Your dad sucks,” Hyerim pronounced, taking a pointed sip of her iced water. “Seriously.”

“Hey, my dad is not that bad,” you defended. “It’s just… he’s a bit distant. Absent-minded. But he’s cared for me in the best way he could.”

“You and I have very different definitions of what constitutes good parenting, Y/N. This man left you largely on your own since you were five, and now he gets worried about you living on your own? Something's not right,” Hyerim retorted.

Ignoring her in favor of the food that arrived, you practically inhaled twelve of the fried gyoza. Rolling her eyes at your typical running-away behavior, she primly dipped a piece of sashimi in soy sauce and took a dainty bite.

“So? What’s the plan? Are you going to stage a rebellion and stay in your apartment, or go stay with some random men?”

Your response was cut off as cheers broke out from the corner of the restaurant, where a large group of men and women were huddled together.

“Cheers to our National win!” a man announced, his face already a bit flushed. “To Neuron!”

“To Neuron!” the group cheered loudly, and lifted up their shot glasses in celebration.

“To our leader, J-Hope!” the same man pronounced brightly, some sake sloshing over the tip of his cup.

“Hoseok!” the group whooped louder, more rounds going around.

As their cheers quieted down, you turned back to Hyerim. “I don’t know. I think I’ll decide when I meet them. They could either all be idiots or they could be chill. I really hope for the latter.”

“Good plan, good plan.”

An awkward silence permeated the booth since both of you were at a loss to say something.

“Onto lighter things, “ Hyerim forced out brightly, clapping her hands. “Let me tell you about my younger brother’s really hot doctor. His name is Dr. Kim and he’s tall and…”

As Hyerim continued to babble on about the tall, handsome pediatric doctor, you felt a buzz in your pocket.

Dad: Their address is 111 Hannam-dong, Yongsan-su

Dad: They’re ready for you.

Can you guess who each stepbrother is and what they do? Comment below!!

Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions will be released on February 15th at 8pm ET. It’s about ~15k words of getting to know these boys. Please look out for it!

[theartofdreaming1]

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

69 (nice) and blupjeans??

69. (😎) "You do know that we're in public, right?"

--

The worse part about this all, in Barry's opinion, is that they weren't actually dating. Like, he was all for getting back at shitty people and rubbing success in their faces. If he was being honest, he was a pretty petty person. Part of that had to do with hanging around Lup and Taako for so long. Part of it was just the way he was. He liked showing off, as long it wasn't in a dangerous or in a super egotistical way. But honestly, he could have a little ego, as a treat.

So of course he was going to help Lup show up her ex. Duh. Why wouldn't he?

But he had severely underestimated how it would feel to be on a fake date with Lup. In front of several people, who all knew her, but didn't know him. They hadn't gone to the same high school together- Barry was from a farming town, Lup was from a city. But they had taken the same classes at college and it just sort of took off from there. They were roommates now. For practical reasons.

Lup had explained, in detail, why having him as a date for her high school reunion was a good idea. Most of those reasons were "so I can't show Greg fucking Grimaldis what a good boyfriend looks like".

He didn't regret coming. But he had made a very startling realization at the start of the night.

He was in love with Lup.

Fuck.

"You- you do know that we're in public, right?" Barry asked breathlessly as Lup pulled back from a very dramatic kiss. She glanced over his shoulder slightly, grinning, and Barry knew very well that Greg Grimaldis was somewhere behind them.

"I can tone it down if you want," Lup said, actually sounding a little apologetic. "You still comfortable with, uh, with this?"

"You're fine!" Barry said, very flushed and very in love. Oh god. Oh fuck. How had he not noticed his crush before? Fuck, Taako was gonna laugh so hard at him. "Just- I'm just getting used to it, y'know? I'm very- it's good! You're good. I'm fine."

"Let's take a break outside," Lup said, reading his emotions better than he could. "It's loud in here."

"Y- yeah, sure," Barry said, letting himself get pulled along to the gym exit. They only took one pause so Lup could throw a very quick and well-placed middle finger at Greg.

Outside the gym was definitely a lot calmer. Barry took a deep breath, burying his face into Lup's neck just so he didn't have to see her look at him. How the hell had he gone so long without noticing his feelings towards her? He was so stupid.

"You good?" Lup asked quietly, squeezing his hand. "We don't have to stay for anything, we can just go get some McDonalds or something if you wanna."

"I'm fine," Barry said again, exhaling.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Lup said.

"You didn't," Barry said honestly. "I just, uh. I realized that, uh. I..."

Oh man. Oh geez. He had backed himself into a corner here, fuck.

"You?" Lup prompted softly. Barry pulled back a little bit and looked at her. She was beautiful. She was always beautiful.

"It's been a while since I kissed someone," Barry choked out. It wasn't a lie. He didn't want to lie to her. But saying "actually, I'm in love with you" seemed like it'd make the ride home a LOT more awkward than "I just haven't dated anyone because, apparently, I've been subconsciously in love with you for several years."

"Ah," Lup said. "Well, you're pretty good at it, babe, not gonna lie."

He buried his face back into her shoulder, laughing. He was so screwed.

"Thanks," he said, squeezing his eyes shut. "You're not too bad yourself, Lup."