#mila's suggestions are actually really helping me

[vaguely-concerned]

I wanted to write out a more condensed version of the Garashir thoughts I accumulated through my read of a stitch in time, because it really is driving me slightly nuts. so here we go!

I think my basic takeaway is something like: if you look at what's actually on the page as dialogue and not just the story garak tells himself internally of what has happened between them (which is basically 'I've fucked up somehow and I don't know how or why but something's broken here and I messed it up; I have nothing left of interest to offer him', pretty clearly going over it in his head like he would trying to figure out what he did wrong when tain locked him in a closet as a child), you kind of get the feeling that julian doesn't know what to do with the way garak flinches away from him whenever he tries to get closer or offer help. (which like. not for nothing but that's actually the dynamic between garak and mila too, but with garak's role switched to the mostly-resigned seeker of contact rather than the flincher-away. we all know garak’s daddy issues but I think the mommy issues at work are doing some gulf stream shit under the surface as well lol.) so julian starts hesitating in seeking out contact in the first place, nevermind asking him for anything more when garak's also clearly falling apart mentally and seems unreachable in the first place. and Julian also doesn't want to mess this up and make something already fraught and painful even worse; he still wants to help! he always wants to help, that’s just who he is, he keeps trying through the whole book. and when garak mostly-gently but reflexively and firmly rebuffs him each time he tries… after a while it seems like he doesn't think he's welcome, or that he's imposing and garak doesn't really want him there — that he's just humoring him or something when he does let him in, just like garak was so afraid palandine was doing with him in the beginning. it’s only in the final scene between them that garak invites him in and asks for help on his own initiative. 

“I’m pleased you stopped by”/”No, you’re not,” he said quietly. ‘I really won’t take up any more of your time’. “You see, this is so difficult, Garak. I know what a private person you are, and how you detest people meddling in your affairs….”. “Your holosuite program. The one that allows me to visit the traumas of my childhood.”/“I hesitate to suggest this, remembering how you reacted the last time … but, yes, I feel it could make a difference,” the Doctor gamely admitted. (Julian I love you so much. Eternal optimist hours. Keep it up it’s going to get you spectacularly laid if you just get on that shuttle to Cardassia.) All these moments do not read to me as someone who has no interest in continuing or deepening this relationship (maybe the opposite, in fact), it gives me more the sense of someone who feels he keeps putting his foot in his mouth and making the damage worse no matter what he tries, and not knowing what else to do but to back off to save them both more pain. (he also needs help and support, but he’s not going to go ask it of someone who’s clearly in no position to give it (on account of visibly falling apart even more than usual). And also because the good doctor is such a hypocrite lol ‘of course you’re worth asking for and receiving help!! I’m just fine tho don’t worry about me *light is slowly dying in his eyes behind the smile as the seasons go on*’. Stiff upper lip to the point of psychological breakdown-off (cross-cultural, competitive))  

and the most painful thing to me is that after their disastrous tea party in garak’s shop, at the very least, garak clearly realizes he's hurting julian by keeping him out (But as to the question of which group suffers the most…), and he desperately wants to stop hurting him but he just doesn't know how!!! he's never learned how to close the distance! he's been locked completely into himself by the way tain shaped him and doesn't know how to get out of the closet so to speak yet! ('...am I not. *supposed* to pretend to be functional and have no needs. is that not like. my entire job interpersonally. I am confused.') it’s something Tolan already observes in him and grieves over when he comes home from Bamarren, and the years since have uh not helped with that particular problem lol. for all he longs for it, intimacy is like a hot stove to him; he can’t help but reach out, and he can’t help but flinch away when he actually comes into contact with it. almost the worst part is that I think Julian can tell some of that too and sort of understands it/doesn't hold it against him, and it just makes it even sadder, somehow. they both move so carefully around each other through this, because even in the middle of all that they really do try to be kind to each other the best they know how and it fucks me up so bad. which makes it even crazier and more touching that all of asit is basically garak processing his shit until he can get to the last line honestly — 'You're always welcome, Doctor'. he pulled a full lizardly mr darcy in the post-apocalypse here, he got around to starting to fix himself at least partly to be in a place where he could be able to meet Julian in the ways he needs if he wants that from him. And that drives me utterly insane thanks for asking!!! WILD BOOK COMPLETELY UNHINGED 300+ PAGE DECLARATION OF LOVE AND INTIMACY WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL

(this post started life as a tag ramble under @spocks-kaathyra‘s wonderful post about Julian’s side of it over here, but — as I’m sure you'll be astonished to learn at this point — I found I somehow had even more things to say, my neurons boileth over perpetually and it seems I just have to live with that)

[calholic]

okay😭😭 can you do a tom x reader where tom, bill, y/n,gustav, and georg are at a friends party. y/n and bill are hanging out with each other, drinking and telling each other jokes yk, then tom notices and gets jealous? thinking him and y/n are “flirting”.

also i love your writing 😭

T. KAULITZ x READER

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you having fun at a party until a certain someone gets jealous

★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of alcohol, cigarettes/smoking

★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thanks for the request!

your friend mila was hosting a party and all your mutual friends were invited. you didn’t know who exactly was going to be there but you knew you would see some familiar faces. you were running errands before mila called you, “can you come help set up the party tonight with me?” she asked. “sure! i’m actually out right now, do you need me to pick up anything?” you asked. “some drinks would be nice,” she said. so you were know at the liquor store, putting whatever you could find in your basket before heading over to mila’s place.

when you finally got there he place was a mess. “what happened here?” you asked, slighting shocked to see the dirty apartment. “i haven’t gotten around to cleaning, can you help me?” she asked. you sighed and started picking trash up from the floor. an hour later her house was now clean and it was time to set up the party. you laid out all the drinks and made sure there were enough cups. “you should probably put all your valuable things away,” you suggested to mila. you and mila finished setting up the beer pong table before the guests arrived. the first to show up were your friends terry and angela.

then followed a lot more guests before finally tokio hotel arrived. you didn’t know that they were coming and you started freaking out since you had a massive crush on tom and you didn’t look the best at the moment. “mila why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” you asked frantically combing your hair. “uhm can i change into one of your dresses?” you asked looking down at your casual jeans and a t-shirt. “yeah sure you know where my room is,” mila said before going over to some of her friends.

you walked into her room and closed the door. the music was muffled now which gave you a clearer headspace to think with. you looked at all of her dresses and chose a tight and short black dress. you quickly changed and hurried back to the party. “damn you look good,” mila said. you guys laughed together and went to go get drinks. “let’s go over to the couches,” you said after you both got your drinks. when you got to the couches. you saw bill and tan over to him, sitting down on the seat next to his. “hey bill!” you said enthusiastically since you we’re happy to see him. “where are the others?” you asked. “oh there somewhere, i know tom’s over there though,” he said pointing to the kitchen. you blushed at the sight of tom and immediately turned away when you guys made eye contact.

you and bill started talking and making jokes and as the two of you did you felt eyes on you. it was a really creepy feeling so you suggested you guys love some where else. “do you want to go play beer pong?” you asked bill, he nodded and you guys started walking. you looked around and realized that the started were from tom and you wondered what was up with him since he looked, mad? a few games of beer pong later, you and bill were now incredibly drunk. the two of you decided to go out on the rooftop for some cigarettes. when you two got up there you realized that neither of you had a lighter so bill went down to go find one.

a few minutes after bill left tom approached you and you were very nervous. your face turned slightly red as he started speaking. “do you like bill?” he asked bluntly. you were now shocked because you obviously had a crush on him. “what? bill? what are you talking about?” you asked in confusion. “i saw the way you guys were talking, you were totally flirting with him” he said. “i was just joking with, bill’s my friend,” you said chuckling. “sure,” tom said as he looked away.

“why do you even care?” you asked tom. he was shocked by the question and didn’t answer. “are you jealous or something?” you asked while laughing. “of course i’m not,” he said. tom was a bad liar and you could obviously tell by his tone and body language that he was hiding something. “i like you tom, not bill,” you drunkenly confessed. tom was speechless, “you’re drunk ______.” he said. “i’m not, i swear. i’ve liked you since we first met,” you said while laughing before going back inside to go find bill, leaving tom standing there in shock. he didn’t quite believe since first of all, you were drunk and second of all, you said it so calmly and suddenly. the next morning you woke up to mila cleaning and vacuuming. “finally cleaning?” you asked while laughing. your head hurt a lot and you had no memory of yesterday.

“ugh do you remember what happened yesterday?” you asked mila, getting up to go get a glass of water. “well i had that party and apparently you confessed to tom,” she said with a chuckle. you were silent, “what? i did what to tom?” you asked in shock. “oh my god, no,” you said as you frantically searched for your phone. you finally remembered last night on the roof top and your face turned red. “who else knows?” you asked mila. “just me and tom i guess, you were bragging to me all night,” she said.

“ughhh stop,” you said putting to hands over your face. “oh by the way they’re coming over in a few minutes,” mila said. “what?? why?” you asked. “breakfast,” mila said with a smile. you knew that she had invited them on purpose and immediately got up to go get changed. “i can’t believe you,” you said before storing off to the bathroom. a few minutes later they showed up, you were still in the bathroom even though you were finished changing. you just wanted to avoid tom at all costs because you didn’t know what to say to him. in the end, you decided to just apologize and use your drunkenness as an excuse.

you walked out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. “hey guys,” you said awkwardly before taking a seat next to mila. “look, tom whatever i said to you last night, i was drunk and i’m sorry,” you said as everyone except mila and tom. tom smirked at you before replying. “apologize for saying what?” he asked, obviously acting dumb. “you know, what i said on the roof yesterday,” you explained. “i don’t think i know,” he said with a big smile mastered on his face. “when i confessed to you last night,” you screamed, frustrated now.

everyone looked shocked as the room became silent. “i’m sorry,” you said before running back to the bathroom. “what’s wrong with you?” you heard jolie ask tom from a distance. seconds later you heard someone at the door, it was tom. “can i come in?” he asked. “no,” you replied. you heard him sigh and he opened the door. “______, i was just joking,” he said. “let’s just forget about,” you said. “i like you too,” he said laughing. “what?” you asked, shocked to hear what he had just said. “i said i like you too,” he said again but a little louder. “whatever,” you said before smirking and pulling him in for a kiss.

[glassofspoiledmilk]

Going Gold| Yuri P

Chapter ten, Paris | TW: Language

I skated into the middle of the rink and took my starting position like usual.

It wasn't usual.

I heard the music start but I didn't feel like moving.

Against my will, I started my program.

I moved along with the music like I was on autopilot, not really thinking about the way I moved, just moving.

Thankfully my free program was more melodramatic than my short so no one really noticed I was actually upset. I went through my jumps and spins with ease, not really realizing I was doing them. When I finished the program I huffed and took my final position.

I looked around as I gasped for air.

I skated over to Lilia who was at a loss for words, which scared me because that usually wasn't a good thing.

"I'm sorry, I haven't been feeling very good" I say as I lean against the wall of the rink, trying to catch my breath.

"...No Y/N that was..beautiful" she says as if she were in shock.

...

"..really?" I reply as I feel the mood slightly lighten.

"If I were judging that, I would've scored you in the hundreds" she said smiling at me.

"I'm proud of you"

I could feel my eyes start to tear up as I smiled back at her.

She put her arm on my shoulder and told me that I deserved a break.

I skated off the ice with a smile on my face, completely forgetting about Yuris mystery crush.

When I stepped into the rubber flooring I saw Yuri standing at the entrance of the rink.

His face was slightly pink and I could see tears welling in his eyes.

"Are you alright..?" I ask, slightly tilting my head to the right.

"Psssht! I'm fine, out of my way I have a program to complete" he said avoiding my gaze.

As he walked by me I turned around and watched him skate into the rink with a confused look on my face.

I slid my guards on over my blades and walked over to my bag, which was on the bleachers. I grabbed out a snack and sat down.

The music for yuris free program started and i grabbed out my phone to pass the time.

I scrolled on instagram for the few minutes he was skating and when he was done, I walked off the bleachers and onto the floor.

Lilia and Yuri met me at the entrance to the rink.

"Both of your programs today were pretty good. I'm very proud of how hard you've worked up until this point.

However, that doesn't mean you get to stop so I am expecting this and above at tomorrows short program" Lilia sternly said as she slid her gloves off her slim hands and shoving them into her pocket.

"Also the two of you need things to wear to the gala at the end of the series, so while we're in Paris I suggest you do that" she added.

Yakov came down off the bleachers, carrying my things, and stood next to Lilia.

Lilia sighs loudly and then says "you will not have a budget on your attire to the gala, but if anything else is bought using my credit card it will be returned. Immediately."

"Do you understand?" She says with a serious tone.

"Yes" me and Yuri say in unison.

We walked out of the rink and out to the parking lot. Lilia started the car and we all got in.

She drove us back to the hotel and when we got inside I changed out of my skating clothes and put on a nice outfit to go shopping in. While I was in the bathroom I remembered the texts between Mila and Yuri and my heart sank again.

I couldn't really do anything with my feelings, if I asked Yuri about it he'd know I read his texts and I'd never hear the end of it, and Mila wouldnt be any help either. I groaned and threw my head back in frustration and sorrow. I took in a deep breath, and continued getting ready.

I changed my clothes and walked out of the bathroom to see Yuri waiting for me.

He was wearing cargo pants and a sweatshirt, both of which we had bought together at the mall.

"You ready?" He asks nonchalantly.

"Oh um yeah" I awkwardly stutter out.

He opens up the door and we walk down the hotel hallway to the elevator.

"Do you have Lilia's Card?" I ask, looking over at him.

"Yea, I grabbed it before you came out of the bathroom" he replies, hitting the button to call the elevator.

When the doors open, we simultaneously step inside.

I stood in the corner, next to Yuri who was on his phone.

I took in a breath, and got a whiff of Yuris cologne.

He smelled good, like a weirdly comforting kind of good.

I felt my face heat up, but luckily the elevator doors opened before Yuri could notice.

We walked out of the hotel and outside onto the street.

"Do you know where we're going?" I say.

"Yea, there's a popular mall nearby that has a lot of places we can look in" he adds, looking over at me.

"Cool" I reply awkwardly.

There was an awkward silence.

"What was that today" Yuri asks.

"Huh" I reply confused.

"When you were in the bathroom" he adds.

He looks at me out of the corner over his eye.

I felt my face go white.

what was I supposed to tell him? "Oh yea I was snooping through your phone and I found out you liked a girl and didn't tell me!".

"Like I said I..wasn't feeling good" I say as I avoid his gaze.

"Y/N I've said this before, you're an awful liar" he replies.

"Tell me what really happened"

"I told you what happened Yuri, drop it" I say with a sudden change of tone.

There was a strange beat of silence before he spoke again.

"Fine" he replied with a fake nonchalant attitude.

I watched with regret as he looked away from me, his gaze hardening on the ground.

I swallowed hard and took out my phone.

I tried to forget the conversation, but the guilt eventually got to me.

"I'm sorry Yuri, I didn't mean it to come off like that It's just..personal" I say as I look up at him.

He looks back down at me.

"It's fine, I get it" he replies, his face relaxing.

A few minutes later we approached the mall. Yuri reached for the door and held it open so I could enter.

"Thanks" i quietly said.

We walked down the hallway until we approached a bridal store.

"You wanna go in here?" I asked.

"Sure" he replied while sliding his phone into his back pocket.

We walked into the store and saw thousands of dresses and suits.

Yuri and I decided to split up and grab a few things we liked, and then meet up again at the dressing rooms.

I walked over to the area titled 'dresses'

And began my search there.

I grabbed a dark blue poofy floor length dress, a mid length satin black dress, and a wine red dress that was also floor length.

I walked over to the fitting room area and saw Yuri sitting down on a bench.

He looked up and saw me.

"I've been texting you for the past 20 minutes" Yuri says, obviously annoyed.

"Oh I wasn't paying attention...sorry" I say awkwardly.

He groans in response.

"I got us a room" he adds pointing to the door infront of him.

"Who's going first?" I ask.

"Do you wanna go first?" he says.

"Sure" I reply pushing open the door.

I locked it behind me and hung the dresses up on the wall.

I first grabbed the dark blue dress first and slipped it on.

I unlocked the door and walked out.

"What do you think?" I asked Yuri.

He looked me up and down.

"I think you look like a princess" he replied.

"In a good way or a bad way?" I added with a smile.

"Both I guess" he shrugged.

I laughed a little and spun around in the dress.

"I certainly feel like a princess...but I think it's a little much" I say as I lift up a little bit of the fabric on the skirt.

I walked back into the fitting room and took off the dress.

I grabbed the black satin dress and quickly put it on.

I looked in the mirror, the dress was extremely pretty. it was fitted around my body but left just enough room to move comfortably.  I once again unlocked the door and walked back out to the waiting area. "what do you think of this one?" I ask.

he looks up from his phone and scans the scene Infront of him.

his breath slightly hitched before he spoke, "it looks fine I guess".

"what do you mean fine, like fine as 'in meh it looks fine' or fine as 'in yea it looks fine!'"  I add.

"I don't know, I guess the second one" he says awkwardly.

I roll my eyes and retreat back into the room.

I slid off the black dress and hug it back onto the wall. I then grabbed the last dress, a wine red dress that was fitted along the torse, but flared at the bottom.

I zipped up the back and left the room again.

"Alright last one, what do you think" I say.

"It looks ok" he said nonchalantly.

"You're no help" I retort, making a face.

"I liked the last one more" he says, gaze returning to his phone.

"Do you think I should get that one?" I add.

"I guess" he replies.

I walk back into the room and take off the dress.

I slip the dress onto its hanger and grab the other two dresses and walk out.

"its all yours" I say sitting down next to yuri.

he grabs the pile of suits next to him and walks into the changing room.

i open my phone and scroll on instagram for a few minutes until yuri returned,

when he came out he was wearing a white suit, with a black tie.

"well?" he says after a few moments of silence.

"uhhh it looks fine i guess" I reply, mocking him.

he scoffs and turns around to go back into the room.

"it looks nice, but it kinda washes you out" i add.

"whats that supposed to mean?" he retorts.

"im just saying i think you should go with a different color, but if you like it then I dont really care" I reply.

he rolls his eyes and goes into the fitting room to change.

a few moments later he returns wearing a plain black and white suit.

"that one looks nice" I say, inspecting him.

"I feel like I look too boring" he complains.

"then go put on something more interesting" I reply.

the last suit he comes out wearing is a gorgeous red suit with a red tie, and black button of shirt.

I watched as he emerged from the room, my cheeks starting to turn a slight shade of pink.

"whats wrong" Yuri says, snapping me out of my trance.

"N-nothing im fine! you look really nice Yuri, i think you should go with that one" i say awkwardly.

his cheeks pinkened and lips ever so slightly curled into a smile.

he turned around and walked back into the changing room without a word.

when he came back out , he was back in his normal clothes and carrying the pile of suits.

"done?" I ask.

"yea" he replies.

I walked back to the dress area and hung up the dresses I wasnt going to buy, and then met up with yuri at the cash register.

"did you guys find everything ok?" the lady asks as she rings up our stuff.

"yup!" i cheerfully say.

"alright, your total is 709.57" she adds.

yuri pulls out the card from his pocket and proceeds to purchase our clothes for the gala.

"have a nice day!" the lady says, handing us our stuff now put into pink bags with white tissue paper.

"you too!" i reply, grabbing the bags.

i handed Yuri's to him and we walked out of the store.

we walked around the mall for a little, until a cafe caught my eye.

"Yuri!! look at that café we should get something to eat!" i say excitedly.

''do i have to" he complains.

"absolutely!" i reply, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the restaurant.

I opened the door and we sat down at a two person table next to one of the windows.

I picked up the menu and began to read it.

"make sure you read the english side this time" he says with a sly smile.

"i hate you" i say reply rolling my eyes.

"hate you too" he adds with a smile.

A/N: sorry this one’s kinda boring I’ve been super busy and I’m kinda just trying to get stuff posted 😭

[canirove]

Best friends… forever? | Chapter 15

Author’s note: Half way there 👀

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Remind me again why I said yes to this?” Mila asks her agent.

“Because it is a great opportunity. One doesn’t get a Women’s Health cover, and on her own country, every day.”

“Yeah, yeah…” she sighs.

After a really tough beginning of the season where they’ve had to play against the best teams on the league, and somehow coming out alive from it, her agent had presented her this deal, suggesting that it was a good way to relax and forget about it all. Mila had always enjoyed photoshoots and had lots of fun doing them, but this one was different. She wouldn’t be posing on her own, she would have a partner. And that partner was Rúben.

The Portuguese issues of Women’s and Mens’ Health had decided that they wanted them both on their covers. Each of them would have an individual one, but also a shared one, and she couldn’t say no to it when everyone knew they were best friends. What excuse will she give them, that she couldn’t do it because they were falling in love with each other and things had gotten awkward between them?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ok, so this is how it is going to work” the photographer says. “We will start with Rúben while you Mila get ready since it takes you a bit longer, and then while he changes, we’ll take your photos. We’ll mix you both so you are ready and feeling more relaxed for the photos together.”

“Sounds good” Rúben says.

“Ok” Mila mutters.

When they met at the studio, they somehow managed to make it look as if they had seen each other the day before, no one suspecting that it actually had been weeks, and that they had only spoken through texts messages. Because not even their agents knew what was going on between them.

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“How is it possible that she looks even more hot now than before the summer?” Rúben’s agent whispers to him while they watch Mila work in front of the camera. She had always been a natural, and watching her move was almost hypnotizing.

“Careful with what you say.”

“Sorry, sorry” his agent laughs. “You know I’ve always fancied her. But sadly, she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Yeah” Rúben whispers, his eyes following every move Mila makes and thinking that it is actually true. She looks way hotter than the last time he saw her for more than just a few minutes, and he wouldn’t mind help her taking off the few clothes she was currently wearing.

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“God, summer suits Rúben” Mila’s agent says to her while they watch him pose. It had been a while since she had seen him topless, and he may look even better than she remembered. “Do you know if he is seeing anyone?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, I thought I may shoot my shot” her agent shrugs. “I wonder if that’s the way he looks at you when is about to…” but Mila doesn’t hear the rest. She is too focused on the way he is tying up his joggers, on how low they are on his hips, on the way he is looking at the camera. He had looked at her like that before, and just the thought of it was making her feel very hot despite only wearing a crop top and a pair of shorts.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Mila, I’m gonna need you to move closer” the photographer says. “Yes, that’s perfect.”

They had been shooting together for just a couple of minutes, but they both couldn’t wait for it to be over. Being this close, wearing barely any clothes, and touching the other, was torture.

“Rúben, put your hand on her waist. A bit lower… Good.”

“You ok?” Rúben whispers.

“Fine” Mila says. Though she wasn’t. She could feel her skin burning under his touch, the temptation to touch him back being almost unbearable. “You?”

“Good” he says, trying not to focus too much on how close her leg was to his, on how if he moved his fingers just a tiny bit, he could touch her butt.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“That was wonderful. The chemistry between you two is amazing” the photographer says once he has finally finished. “Now we are gonna have a very difficult time trying to pick which photos will make the cut.”

“Sorry about that” Rúben chuckles.

“Is there anywhere where I could shower?” Mila asks, looking for an excuse to leave. “I need to get rid of all this make up, I’m not used to it.”

“Oh, yes” the photographer says. “Lottie, could you please show Mila the bathroom?”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Rúben!”

“I am so sorry, Mila. I saw your agent leave and thought you had already finished showering.”

“She had to leave for a meeting. But I’m done, I just have to take off the make up on my face. You can shower if you want.”

“You don’t mind if we share?”

“We’ve seen everything that is to see, so” she shrugs, Rúben’s eyes not being able to stop looking at the way the tiny towel she is wearing moves up her legs, being too close to show more than it should.

“Ok then” he says, clearing his throat and closing the door behind him.

Once Rúben is inside the shower, Mila can’t help but look at him on the mirror’s reflection. The shower’s screen is completely clear, it doesn’t hide anything while you are inside, and she can see the way the muscles on his back are moving, whishing that she could run her fingers over them while he… “Ok, focus” she whispers to herself before washing her face with very cold water.

While he showers, Rúben can’t stop thinking about Mila wearing that tiny towel, on the fact that she is behind him. Slowly, he turns around just a bit to see her. She is leaning against the sink to see herself better on the mirror, the towel going up and showing enough of her butt to make him want to get out of the shower, move behind her and… “Ok, focus” he says to himself, turning around and opening the cold water.

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━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Everything alright?” Rúben asks Mila when they leave the studio.

“Yeah… It’s just that Ella is having a last minute date with Joe at her house tonight, and I can’t go back.”

“You can always come back home” he shrugs.

“You don’t have plans today?”

“Nope. Just eat something and watch tv.”

“Ok. I actually need to pick up some clothes, it is starting to get a bit chilly.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Rúben, where do you keep the extra tooth… Oh my God! Rúben!"

"What the fuck, Mila?"

"Jesus Christ, what are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" he says, covering himself with a pillow. "This is my room, you should have knocked before coming in."

"I'm sorry, I just never do it and I didn't expect to find you doing... That" Mila says, her face burning.

"What did you want?"

"Just... I just... Do you need a hand?" she asks him, completely forgetting why she had come to his room.

"A hand? What are you... Oh" Rúben says, his eyes growing wide when he realizes what Mila just implied.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I should probably go" she says, starting to close the door.

"You said that because after today's shoot and that encounter in the bathroom, you are as horny and turned on as I am."

"I'm not..." But she is. She is very horny and turned on, and she can't stop thinking about him and his body on hers.

"You are not..." he smirks.

"Fine, yes. That's why I offered to help you with what you were doing. We clearly were going to relieve ourselves on our own, so why don't do it together?" she shrugs.

"I thought you were still figuring out things, that that’s why you are staying with Ella."

“And I am, but…”

“But?”

“But if I don’t get this out of my system, I won't be able to focus on what matters, so we better do something about it."

"Ok. So you give me a hand, and I give you..."

"Whatever you fancy as long as I get what I want."

"I'll think about it while you give me that hand" he miles.

"Oh please, stop saying that. It was embarrassing enough when I said it, I don't need to hear it again and again."

"Sorry" Rúben chuckles. "Take off your clothes, you'll be more comfortable."

"You can also stop covering yourself with the pillow” Mila says, closing the door behind her and starting to undress. “No need to hide anymore."

"We’ve seen everything that is to see” he says, quoting her own words from earlier today. "Come here. If you keep standing there looking beautiful and naked, I don't know how long I'll last."

"So demanding" she smirks, her eyes focused on his as she kneels at the end of the bed, slowly moving towards him.

"If you tease me, I'll tease you."

"I don't mind" she replies, moving her hands up his thigs, his body tensing.

"That's what you say now. But once it's my turn, you will definitely complain like I am doing right now."

"I won't."

"You..." but he isn't able to finish that sentence, a moan scaping his lips the moment Mila touches him.

[luce-speaks]

in honor of finishing the editing on Laid to Rest (yippee!) here is my vision for @good-beansdraws dnd au (tagged #echoes dnd au on my blog)

campaign one - alm route

DM’ed by Mila; the players are Lukas, Forsyth, Python, Clive, and Mathilda

Mila is a novelist (Forsyth likes her books and he is being sooooo normal about this) and it’s her first time running D&D

Duma writes the combat encounters for her in exchange for worldbuilding and plot help

The campaign was pitched to the players as a classic, knights on a quest sort of campaign, only to surprise the players with the fall of the current monarch and the new Deliverance in their hands

Not sure how relevant i want the kid characters on this route to be but there’s definitely fun complexity added by having Alm, this Chosen One character, be an NPC

The other thing I was considering was removing/replacing clive and mathilda but idk who I’d replace them with

campaign two - celica route

DM’ed by Duma for an old group of gamer friends who love strategy games and hardcore combat

Not sure exactly who I’d put in the group but I’m thinking Saber, Kamui, Mae, and maybe Jesse, Deen, and/or Sonya

Mae is played by a competent adult woman who just enjoys the cutesy killer kid trope and is blowing off steam from a frustrating job or something. Duma made an exception to the campaign plot hook to let her be part of the group they’re escorting

This is also around the time I realized I can have the irl versions be a different gender so I think I might have Saber played by a woman as well

The party is not all that into roleplay but they do surprise Duma by getting really attached to the healer npc Genny and being so ready to kill anyone who threatens her

the main thing keeping me from writing this is the lack of an actual plot - i have a couple vague ideas (would probably make lukas the main character because i want to write more of him) but no driving conflict or character arcs yet. would absolutely take suggestions here!

[dbcoatl-art]

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Hunters of Ruination

Chapter 2: Awkward First Impressions [7 Pages]

After falling for a pitfall trap, Jin finds the so-called "beast of the valley"...or so he thinks. Despite bearing blue eyes and being able to create pits, the scrawny Sprigatito named Mila doesn't seem like someone who could qualify as some kind of monster at all.

--

Jin’s heart hammered in his ribcage as he stared up at the Sprigatito. There was no doubt about it – she definitely had blue eyes, and she seemed crafty enough to create pitfall traps like this one. And she even had sharp fangs protruding from her upper jaw, like two very little daggers.

This had to be it. This had to be the beast of the valley!

Yet, a small voice from the back of his head suggested otherwise. What if she wasn’t the beast? She seemed much too intelligent, and she was even capable of speech. Many ferals he’d come across lacked those capabilities, save for maybe the Rookidee line.

…What if the real beast of the valley was hiding elsewhere?

After a while, the Sprigatito blinked as she took a step back. “Oh,” she said. “You’re not the Donphan I ran into earlier.”

A strong mix of relief and anger washed over Jin. The Sprigatito wasn’t the beast that Pacha had made her out to be, but that didn’t change the fact that Pacha could have been injured if she had fallen for the pitfall trap. These feelings quickly faded, however, when a green forepaw reached down to him.

“Want me to help you get out of there?” the Sprigatito asked.

Jin hesitated for a moment. Then, he sighed as he released the charged-up electricity from his body. “Sure,” he replied as he reached over to grab her forepaw. It took some effort, but the two of them worked together to pull Jin out of the pit.

Now that Jin was free from his little trap, he could get a better look at his captor-turned saviour. He noticed that the Sprigatito’s fine green pelt was ragged and unkempt, with bits and pieces of twigs and leaves clinging to it in some places. The tip of her tail bore the same dark green that adorned her face and ears, while her legs were long and slender. He also noticed a few of her ribs poking out, as if she hadn’t eaten in a while.

A pregnant pause passed between the two of them before Jin finally made the first move, as he usually did. “So…” he said. “I’ve never seen you around here. Then again, I’ve never actually met a Sprigatito myself.”

The Sprigatito looked at him, unamused. “Really now?” she retorted. “Cause that’s the exact same thing that Donphan told me.”

“Ehehehe, yeah,” Jin chuckled as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head with one forepaw. “Normally, you’d mostly only be able to find them in the Misty Woods, just a few ways northwest of here.”

The Sprigatito flicked her tail. “Heard that one, too,” she sighed. “I don’t even know what the Misty Woods is. Or where I am, as a matter of fact.”

Jin blinked. A Sprigatito who had never heard of the Misty Woods. Now he’d seen and heard everything. But at the same time, he knew she couldn’t have come from any of the bigger continents on the other side of the world.

He was about to say more when a loud roar suddenly sounded nearby. The duo spun around, trying to search for the source of the noise. A series of more sounds soon followed – the snapping of wood, the trampling of leaves, and even something that sounded like the spewing of fire.

A massive green head swung forward, the jaws connecting to it chomping down on the shrub behind the Sprigatito, ripping it effortlessly out of the earth. An identical, red-coloured head soon followed, letting out a menacing snarl. The green head tossed the shrub aside, revealing both heads to be connected to a singular green body that stood on two legs that ended in a single claw, a pair of leafy arms and a thick tail.

“Wh-what is that?” the Sprigatito asked, backing away from this new creature.

As if in response, the two-headed Pokémon took one look at the small felines. Then, both its heads reared back to let loose a singular, massive roar.

“Scovillain!” Jin shouted. “Run!”

The Sprigatito didn’t need to be told twice. She immediately scrabbled to get a hold on the earth before scampering away. Jin tried to follow suit, only for a jolt of pain to shoot through his foreleg. Wincing, he fell forward with a thud, realizing that he must have injured himself in that pitfall trap.

The Scovillain stomped closer to Jin as the jaws of the red head began to let out a series of sparks. Jin braced himself, expecting to be burned by a devastating Flamethrower that was sure to end him!

But just before the Scovillain could unleash its attack, it suddenly let out a pained shriek as something hard hit its eye, throwing the Fire-type move off-course. The jet of fire shot into the sky, where it fizzled harmlessly. A second hard object soon followed suit, also nailing the green head on its eye.

As Jin wondered what could have happened, the Sprigatito burst from the bushes again, holding a rock in her jaws and another in one of her paws.

“Stay away from him, your two-headed jerkface!” she yowled around the rock in her mouth. Jin could only watch in amazement as she tossed that rock at the Scovillain, scoring a hit on the green head’s other eye. She then scampered around and tossed the other rock at the red head, hitting that head’s other eye.

The Scovillain screamed as it blindly stumbled about, trying to rub out the pain in its eyes. Unfortunately, it didn’t anticipate the pit Jin had fallen in before, and by the time it realized what was happening, it was already slipping off the edge and into the pit.

With the Scovillain roaring in the pit, the Sprigatito quickly scampered her way back to Jin. Clamping her teeth down on the scruff of his neck, she dragged him into the bushes and out of that clearing.

Jin could only stare at the pitfall trap that the Scovillain was in right now, blinded by rocks and shrieking in pain. He shuddered as he saw the occasional jet of flame shoot out of the pit, realizing how close he had been to getting cooked to death.

He didn’t notice that the ground beneath him had stopped moving until the Sprigatito released her hold on him. He slowly stood up, hissing at the pain his foreleg.

“Wait here,” he heard the Sprigatito tell him. “I’ll be right back.”

Jin could only mumble in response as he licked his foreleg to at least ease the pain. Now that he was out of danger, he noticed that there was a small bruise just above his wrist.

The scent of morning dew on mint leaves came back to him, and he turned to find the Sprigatito return to him, holding an Oran Berry in her jaws. She dropped it in front of him and rolled it towards him. “This should make you good as new,” she told him.

Jin took the berry in his paws and chomped down on it. As he did, he instantly felt the pain in his foreleg disappear, allowing him to stand on it again. After making sure he was alright again, he turned his attention back to the Sprigatito.

“You saved me,” he said.

The Sprigatito’s ears and tail shot up in surprise, before she turned away, blushing. “W-well,” she said. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt…or worse.”

A wide smile curled up on the Shinx’s face as he scampered around her. “Man, to think you were the beast of the valley everyone’s been talking about,” he said. “Boy was I wrong!”

“Beast? What beast?” The Sprigatito was confused by what Jin meant.

“You’re no beast at all!” Jin answered. “You’re a hero! A raggedy hero, but still a hero nonetheless!”

The Sprigatito blinked. Then, she smirked. “Call me raggedy again, and I might toss you back into that pit.” She turned away, her tail swishing with amusement. “Not that I’d bother doing so anyway.”

Jin chuckled. “I know you wouldn’t,” he said.

The two smiled at each other for a moment. However, that moment would soon be interrupted by a loud grumble from nearby.

“Crap,” Jin hissed. “Did that Scovillain manage to get out of the pit?”

“N-no,” the Sprigatito whimpered. Jin turned around to find her sitting on her haunches, clutching her belly in embarrassment. “It’s me.”

Jin looked at the Sprigatito’s ribs again. It looked like she hadn’t eaten very much in a while. He looked around before looking up at a nearby tree. He smiled. “I can help with that one,” he said.

The Sprigatito watched as Jin approached the tree. Then, suddenly, he spun around and kicked at the trunk with all his might. He spun around and kicked a second time. There was a snap from above before a large, bright red object landed with a thud right in front of her.

“An apple?” she asked.

Jin smiled and shook his head. “Not just any Apple,” he corrected her. “A Perfect Apple! They’re always abundant at this time of the year.”

The Sprigatito glanced down at the Perfect Apple. She didn’t think it looked “perfect” – to her, it was just an ordinary red apple, complete with a green stem and a large leaf. Still, her hunger drove her to pick up the Perfect Apple and reluctantly take a bite out of it. Then, her mood brightened, and she quickly chowed down on the rest of it.

“Wow,” she said. “I feel full again. Thanks!”

“You’re welcome,” replied Jin. At least he knew she had good taste.

The Shinx approached the Grass-type feline and sat next to her. Without her ribs poking out and her belly completely full, Jin now noticed that there were several bruises that he’d missed earlier. “How long have you survived out here?” he asked her.

The Sprigatito’s ears twitched. “You mean out here, in this strange new world where Pokémon are capable of speech?” she asked. She sighed. “I dunno…maybe a day, at most?”

“And how did you get here?”

Silence fell between the two of them. “… I don’t remember.”

Aha! So she must have amnesia, Jin thought. Though, it would be nice to at least know something about her.

He pressed his forepaws together. “You know…” he began, averting eye contact while trying to find the right words. “You are pretty weird. F-for a Sprigatito, at least.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied. “Don’t know anything about this ‘Misty Woods’ place, don’t know where I am…nothing.”

“Do you have a name, at least? I’d feel bad if I just called you Sprigatito.”

Jin had said that sentence right before he even realized what it was he’d exactly said. His eyes widened as he backed off. “S-sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to— I should’ve been more considerate— I’m sorry, I—”

“No, no, it’s alright,” the Sprigatito said with a giggle. “I would’ve told you anyway.” She held out a forepaw. “I’m Camila Holt…but you can just call me ‘Mila.’ What about you?”

Jin looked at the offered paw, then up to the Sprigatito. Even though she had some of the descriptions of this supposed “beast of the valley” (blue eyes and enough intelligence to create pitfall traps), he couldn’t detect any sort of malice within her. All he could see was a warm smile, and eyes full of laughter. Not to mention she was much too sentient to be considered a feral.

He smiled back as he shook her paw. “Jin Lightfang,” he replied. At last, he had one part of the valley beast mystery resolved.

“So, Jin,” Mila said. “Do you know if there’s a village or town nearby? I was hoping I could at least get some help from the locals.”

Every hair on Jin’s pelt stood on end as he recalled why he came out here in the first place. And what an angry mob of townsfolk were planning to do.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

Mila frowned. “Why not?” she asked.

Jin took a deep breath, carefully formulating his next sentence. “Well, you see, the villagers who live nearby…to put it lightly, a friend of mine got kidnapped, and he’s well-liked among them. The kidnapper is said to make holes and have blue eyes. And also makes a hissing noise.”

“So?” Mila scoffed. “I have blue eyes. And I made that hole pretty well enough that the Scovillain won’t be able to get out any time soon.”

“Yes, well…think about what would happen if they found you. They’d probably cast you out before you even set foot in the village. Or, you could get arrested and brought for questioning.”

Mila’s eyes widened. Then, she looked guiltily down at her paws. “I-I didn’t think of that,” she admitted. “I didn’t know. But, at the same time, I can understand why.”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

Mila took a deep breath before looking up at Jin. “There’s something you should know about me,” she said. “The truth is, I’m not a Sprigatito. I never was. I’m actually—”

“JIN!”

Oh, crud.

In his haste to find the beast of the valley (and instead having his hide saved by his new friend Mila), Jin had completely forgotten about Uncle Volt! And when Uncle Volt roared like that, he knew he was in trouble.

Big trouble!

“Jin?” Mila asked warily. “Who was that?”

Jin took a deep breath to calm himself down. “OK, so here’s the thing, Mila,” he began. “You know that Donphan?”

“You mean the one who wouldn’t stop pestering me about her lost kid, George?”

“Yeah, that’s Mrs. Pacha. She told everyone in the village about the supposed beast roaming in the valley. Thunderclap Valley, to be more specific.” He bit his lower lip nervously. “If they find you here, I don’t know what could happen.”

“So I just hide and wait until they pass by?” Mila asked, her tail-tip twitching. “Sounds easy enough.”

Jin shook his head. “That won’t be possible with my Uncle Volt,” he said. “He’s a Luxray – and everyone knows that Luxray have superb X-ray vision. No matter how much you try to hide, he’ll always find you.”

“Oh.” Mila’s tail drooped. “So, what can we do?”

“JIN LIGHTFANG!” Volt’s voice was getting much louder now.

Jin hesitated. If Mila tried to run and hide, Volt would find her anyway. If she presented herself, the villagers would likely mistake her for the beast like he did and attack her. Either way, he’d only end up putting her in danger.

Yet, if there was one thing Jin hated more than most, it was lying. And he was an honest mon through and through.

He sighed, turning to Mila. “There’s only one thing we can do,” he admitted. “I’ll need you to come with me. And we’ll need to explain what happened – together. It’s the only way we can prove you’re not the beast of the valley.”

Mila didn’t need to ask why. She simply got to her paws and nodded at Jin.

Jin smiled. “Then, let’s get going.”

[strawberriesbunni]

Mila gave Shiro another chance, but things between them were never the same as it used to be. They used to be super affectionate, but after the incident, he didn't even want to touch her. When she first moved into the apartment with him, he rolled out a futon and slept in the living room to not make her uncomfortable. And now he doesn't sleep with her anymore. When she tried to flirt with him, he started yelling at her. As they were arguing, Shiro wanted to break up with her. Taken aback, Mila became extremely agitated as to why he'd ever want to break up with her. So she yelled back, and the neighbors, once again, came to see what the commotion was.

When I downloaded Shiro he came with the basemental drugs mod. I considered deleting it, and I eventually did. But I felt like, at the time and for the story, it was a good add-on to display the dysfunctional atmosphere that Mila was surrounding herself with that would later help build on her character. Though, I did not expect it to play out like that. Part of me hoped that I could actually change that trait into a positive one, because while she was hiking outside his apartment, I had that option for Mila to change her hot-headed trait to cheerful. But I can’t change her given traits. But, I noticed in his mood buffs that he got tense from being in a relationship with her. Seeing as how he cheated on her, I really wished she could break up with him, cause that's what I'd do. However, as part of the challenge, she can’t. She had this cheating sentiment so I tried to make their relationship better by having more joyful interactions, but he'd keep on trying to yell at her. So I just had him break it off with her. And he got a happy moodlet from it, Mila, however, was highly upset. Anyway, continuing on.

Not long after the tiff, Mila quickly moved out of the apartment and into a house in Wakaba. She began spending more of her time on the slopes snowboarding, with her friends and family, and focusing on her career. Karli's birthday was right around the corner and Mila suggested that the family could come over to her new house to celebrate Karli's birthday. It was a small gathering with Mila's parents, Danika and Emory Day, Ashlynn and Elsa, and little Karli. Mila asked Ashlynn to take a photo with her and Karli before her baby sister got too big to carry.

Mila cherishes her younger sisters and hopes to have a girl of her own one day in the future. But following the difficult breakup she experienced recently, she isn't looking to date anyone right at the moment.

[goldnrry]

FAV HARRY’S HOUSE SONG

I love mfsr and aiw but my most listened ones are satellite and little freak

FAV HARRY’S HOUSE LYRIC

Idkkkkk i cant

FAV HARRY’S HOUSE MUSIC VIDEO

Mmmmm im still wait for the circus to completely decide😤

But the mfsr was really fun and weird but i love the as it was one it was so artistic

FAV STAGE FIT

FAVE STREET FIT

I REFUSE TO PICK JUST ONE

CAVE RED CARPET FIT

All the other ones were so perfect too but he looked like he could snap me in a half with his dick with the faces he was making on this day🥹 and the waistline reminds me of the fine line era suits 🤧

FAV SHOW

Well obviously mine since i got to see him (even tho this mf sang fine line the day before and didn’t do the same for me🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪)

FAVE STAGE INTERACTION

I can’t remember anything anymore and in too lazy to go look for a good one in the middle of all the gender reveals, my boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend at my grandma’s funeral interactions

But i guess the daddy confirmations were pretty great, and him checking fans out with no shame at all

Also don’t know if this counts as interaction but he was fucking crying already and fidgeting with the mic my baby deserves all the love 🥹🤧

FAV STAGE FUMBLE

Oh it has to be is failed attempt to make us sing a carnaval song in the last show in sao paulo. He literally picked the only song no one remembers existing and then people started singing the wrong song lmao💀 if he had choosen any other song like eva, mila, evidencias literally any other one that stadium would have exploded and we would sing the whole thing

I need to know who suggested that flopped song, it must have been so humiliating to the singer of the song soxoaoakwdoso

FAVE STAGE DUET

Shania twain was great, the one with koffe at my show was really good too oh and lizzo was so fun too

FAVE INTERVIEW

Mmmmmm the bhg if we are talking published ones

If we are talking video ones im sure the zane one was great but I actually didn’t watch i lol so i choose the capitol one because i did watch and i love how he is always so goofy with uk radio interviews

FAV HARRY QUOTE

“I’ve never been in a public relationship”

“Was it an answer? It was words”

“My favourite thing about the movie is that it felt like a movie”

“Like it’s not normal… and you should get help”

“Avec eyepatch”

How can you choose just one from meme king

FAV PHOTOSHOOT

I love the rolling stones and the gucci ones but LOOK AT THIS MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FAV HARRY PHOTO

Jk, how can i chooooose? Every photo with harry is my favourite photonof harry

FAV FANDOM MEMORY

I have to day all the jokes, memes and posts and the obvious relief on the dash when the curse was broken 💀

I loved being tagged but this felt worse than trying to create a resume sodixiaidixixsiis i hate choosing favourite things

Mmmmm most my friends already got tagged but i want to see @hoesontour @moonchildstyles @theholetour @figinpleather @neattequila @atlafan @justpatches @sophism @guccifloralsuits @sunnypeachyy @starryizzy @tinytulip @cowboysexrobot @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy if I didn’t tag any other friend you either got tagged already or i have peabrain and literally had to look through my dms to remember everyone’s urls 💀💀💀💀

[bestfriendforhire]

Children of BFFH, Entry 187

 As I listened to Rona ramble about her favorite parts of our camping trip, I smiled, glad that she had fun.  We had spent the last two days playing the VR games that the quadruplets and Momma Mila had made, and the quadruplets had assured us that they were going to make it even better for the next time we tried it, though I had plenty of fun wandering the alien environment already.  We’d be arriving home shortly, and then Rona and Layla would go to their homes tomorrow.

 We were driving, instead of just stepping home through one of Valeria’s doorways, because Momma Emma had declared that driving was part of the camping experience before we even set out.  I didn’t complain.  Since I rarely left home, having a chance to see the different places on the way was interesting, and I had a better feel for where we were after actually traveling there.  I wouldn’t bet on my ability to fly home quickly, but I was reasonably confident that I’d manage within a day, given that Best Friend For Hire was really noticeable from the air.  The large, forested area next to the yard could be missed within the city.

 Looking over at Valeria, I was glad to see that she was looking more relaxed again.  She had been a little tense around Ben and his family, probably worried that she wasn’t acting human enough.  She had improved greatly since we had met.  Thinking about the quick, jerky movements she had exhibited when I met her, she actually had adjusted amazingly quickly.  Of course, I couldn’t be too surprised with Momma Cosette teaching her.  Even having grown up around Momma Cosette, I still found her a bit intimidating.  Four had once told me that Slayer blood and vampirism were an exceptional mix that gave Momma Cosette a tremendous edge over vampires near her age, but her training was what really made her fantastic.  He might have just been encouraging me to continue working hard with my studies, but I still marveled at how Momma Cosette always managed to appear a little dangerous.  Would Valeria be like that eventually?

 “Stormcrow, we’re here!” exclaimed Rona as she grabbed my arm with one hand while pointing with her other.  

 I smiled and nodded.  There always was something wonderful about being home.  I did like seeing new places and revisiting old ones, but nowhere else ever seemed quite as comfortable as home.  As I grabbed my things from the room Valeria opened next to the car, I couldn’t help thinking about how much studying I’d need to do after having a whole week off.  Plus, Doc’s birthday was barely more than a week away, and I hadn’t prepared for it yet, though I did have some ideas on what to make for her.

 Walking with Rona to drop off our stuff in my family’s rooms, I debated with myself on going through with designing an outfit as Mom had suggested or on making her a new ornament for her room.  The downside with making clothing was that Deo often made clothing, and I never felt like I designed outfits as well as Deo.  Furthermore, Ella occasionally made outfits for gifts, and competing with her for artistic flair was like trying to outwit Crazy.  I’d have better odds at wrestling a polar bear.  Making a new figurine for her room was a safer choice.

 After unpacking my bags, I asked Momma Mila if anyone else had decided what they were making for Doc.  After hearing that Deo was making Doc a new pair of shoes and Ella was making a figurine of Holly Wood, I was really glad that I asked.

 “Oh, wow!  I didn’t know her birthday was on the ninth!  I need to make her something.  Momma Mila, can you check with my mom about attending the party?” asked Rona with a pleading look.

 “You’ve already been approved.  I set that up at the same time as the camping trip.” replied Momma Mila.

 “You could’ve warned me!” complained Rona with a cute pout.

 “I did.  If you look more than a week ahead on your calendar, you’ll find there are many events listed.” stated Momma Mila with an amused tone.

 “Oh.  My mistake.” she replied, still pouting.  She was getting better at not trying to argue with Momma Mila.  That was always going to be a losing battle, considering that Momma Mila was practically all-seeing.  Looking at me, Rona grinned and asked “So what are we going to do now?”

 Smirking, I told her “I bet it’s on your calendar.”

 She rolled her eyes and sighed.

 Laughing, I said, “I figured we’d play some Ancient Tribes of Earth with the others.  A whole lot might have happened in the game while we were away, and we need to keep our city running smoothly.”

 Rona nodded.  “Good point.”  Then she grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the room.  “Let’s go!”

 I got her to slow down once we were in the hall, but Rona was obviously excited about getting back on her necromancer.  As she bounced along, she explained her plans for creating a new type of undead.  Unsurprisingly, the unholy lands were very beneficial for a necromancer’s craft, but I hadn’t realized that one of our exploration teams had found research notes from an ancient necromancer.  Rona had been looking over them before the camping trip, and thought she could implement some of the rune patterns to create more powerful versions of her zombies and skeletons.  Considering how strong they already were, I was looking forward to seeing what she could pull off.  I was somewhat tempted to get Crazy or Messy to look over the information, certain that they’d see something that Rona and I missed, but I didn’t want to ruin Rona’s fun either.  She was surprisingly good with her character and certainly had a passion for her creepy craft.  Ultimately, I decided to hold off on asking for help unless Rona got stuck on something.

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

Okay, got you more songs in the meantime because I decided to be a pain in my own ass and try to make you a digital drawing when I suck at it being done quickly

Confidence by Oscar Scheller and Ashnikko - Adrien wanting to reach out </3

Shake it out by Doll Skin - Regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret, regret.

CULPA by Wos and Ricardo Mollo - GOD THIS SONG IS ADRIEN IN A GUILT SPIRAL ABOUT BEING CONTROLLED BY HIS DAD AND FEELING LIKE SHIT FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO COMPLETELY FIGHT BACK VIBES ALL OVER (also spanish again, can't help it xD)

Let her go by Passenger - Marinette mourning </3

Changes by David Bowie - the ✨impermanence of everything✨

City of Angels by Em Beihold - again, Marinette finding out of Chat being also Cat Walker without the senti context (I'm a sucker for this thing right here)

Summer Bummer by Younger Hunger - it's sadrien hours againnnnn

@lesbitorte u are now officially doubling the size of my odnlb playlist and i love you for it. time for another live reaction off my notes app to some more incredible song suggestions!

confidence - i like that this is a duet!! i wasn't expecting that but it's actually really sweet. it gives a new perspective to adrien and marinette trying to play the heroes but they have crippling insecurities

shake it off - ahh poor marinette. my heart

culpa - por cierto siempre busco canciones en español y esta ya está en mi lista 😂 es verdaderamente sentiadrien! se capturó la frustración y el terror de ser esclavo de un dictador y transmitió mucha de la culpa de nuestro pobrecito rayito de sol que solo quiere ser un buen niño :(((((

let her go - another one that perfectly captures the theme of odnlb from the perspective of IMMENSE GUILT. idk why i didn't add this one before bc it's actually so perfect. just listen to marinette angst about losing the person she loved the most. she didn't know he held that big of place in her heart until it was carved out of her!!

changes - aaah i love this one. i could see it playing over like the montage of that scene where they're getting drunk and kicked out. it's kind of a sad longing song but there's a soulful melody underneath. it's giving "i miss those good old days before everything went to crap"

city of angels - aww yeah we support los angeles bashing in this house (yes i am from la i have every right). you know what, i almost did go the route of marinette finding out cw was cn before she found out he was a senti, just for the delicious can of drama worms that would have opened. but even though it didn't work for the story, i can still see the au marinette of my au being all salty to cn at every opportunity. this song is such a good representation of the way she'd be passive aggressively aggressive to him during that time lol.

summer bummer - ok wow what a strong start; "wake up in summer /everything's a bummer/ tomorrow the world will be/ safe from me." the immediate sadrien really just punches you in the face doesn't it? wow but i loved it though. he just wants to run away but he can't, he needs lb to rescue him

miss missing you - i really like this bc cn was ladybug's "picket fence" before he died! in her mind their foundation was unshakeable, their future planned out. and then she goes and finds out he's cw and cn and a senti and she doesn't know who to blame or who she loves, the man or the memory. added this to my spotify so hard.

[jayflrt]

strawberry lemonade

❝ praying mantises sound a lot more peaceful than listening to reenactments of fifty shades of grey every other night. ❞

PAIRING ▸ park jongseong x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut (minors dni), crack, college au, lowkey pwp but there is plot sorry this was just the jay brainrot acting up

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sex, slight exhibition kink, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), praise & degradation, pet names because i am a weak woman, sunghoon (fun guy) collects preying mantises??

SUMMARY ▸ you and jay park are bound by fate; or, rather, you're bound by your respective roommates who have obnoxiously loud sex every other night. it's only a matter of time until you give them a taste of their own medicine.

or, revenge is best served with a strawberry lemonade lollipop.

WORD COUNT ▸ 3,482 words

PLAYLIST ▸ lolly by maejor, juicy j, justin bieber • high off you by alayna • candy by doja cat • kickin’ back by mila j

TAG LIST ▸ @msxflower​​ @fiantomartell​​ @baekhyunstruly​​ @mykalon​​ @heelariously​​ @hobistigma​​ @simplyxlea​​ @wntrsgf​​ @person-standing​​ @ja4hyvn​​ @dnyamight​​ @candidupped​​ @shmooooo​​ @pr0dbeomgyu​​ @sunshine-skz​​ @hiqhkey​​ @kp0p10v3r2​​ @baekhyuns-lipchain​​ @jagyuuar​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ the first modern lollipop was created in 1908. it has been an uneventful 114 years of its creation until a video spread yesterday of park jongseong sucking on one. as a result, user jayflrt woke up in a cold sweat to write this in one sitting. 

IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT.

You were currently reporting a criminal (Kim Minjeong) to the authorities (Lee Heeseung).

To be fair, you weren’t actually reporting your roommate to your apartment floor’s resident advisor. She was at her boyfriend’s apartment today, and you were just venting your frustration from the previous night.

Heeseung was just someone you complained to about these things, but never with the intention of getting anyone in trouble. You knew he was good at keeping secrets, so, unless you said otherwise, he wouldn’t confront the people causing problems. (This, of course, went against his sole responsibility as an RA, but people let that slide because he had a pretty face and baked cookies for everyone on Saturdays.)

You got along with Minjeong very well, actually. Although you two were randomly paired together, you clicked the moment you met in the beginning of the school year. You got locked out of your apartment the first night, and when you texted Minjeong for help, she ended up getting locked out, too. The both of you waited until dawn to get a replacement key, and it marked the beginning of a strong friendship.

The only issue was that Minjeong recently started dating Jake Sim, who happened to be your neighbor. In the first few weeks of school, your entire floor mingled and socialized a lot, so you got along very well with the people around you. Jake and Minjeong seemed to hit it off really well, so it was no surprise that they ended up dating.

However, what was surprising was your roommate’s ability to moan at such high volumes every other night.

“Maybe you should confront her about it,” Heeseung offered. It was a stupid suggestion; you were going to kill him.

“I’ve tried!” you whined. “She said she would be quieter and soundproof her room. Guess what? Egg cartons aren’t doing me any favors!”

“I would not wanna have sex in a room full of egg cartons.”

Before you could retort, there was a knock at Heeseung’s door. You looked at him quizzically. Heeseung was terrible at job, so it didn’t make sense for anyone to actually come for help. When he opened the door, though, it all made sense.

Jake’s roommate and your group therapy partner, Jay Park.

In the beginning of the year, you and Jay didn’t get to talk much. You, of course, took notice of him (because it was hard to ignore good-looking men), but neither of you made the effort to become friends. He intimidated you at first, and it was probably because of his sharp features and piercing gaze. The only things that softened his image for you were his classic strawberry lemonade Jolly Rancher lollipops. He should seriously be sponsored by the company; you had seen him sucking on the candy at least once a day.

Naturally, you two got closer after your respective roommates started seeing each other. This wasn’t because you naturally gravitated toward each other or anything. You both would just find yourselves running to Heeseung’s room to complain about your situations, and you both developed mutual sympathy.

It was fun getting to hang around Jay, though. If you had a second chance, you would have tried to actively befriend him before, but you weren’t mad with how things ended up.

“You know, I should’ve fucking roomed with Sunghoon instead,” Jay spat, storming into Heeseung’s room with an unwrapped strawberry lemonade Jolly Rancher lollipop in his fist. He angrily tore the wrapper off and shoved it into his mouth. “One minute I’m writing my history paper, and next I hear the second coming of Christ from Jake’s room. Do those two have the sex drive of bonobos?”

(“You’ve been watching Planet Earth again, haven’t you?” you inquired, recalling him watching rerun episodes in the common room while he was high off his ass.

Jay shot you a glance. “None of your business, Y/N.”)

“I thought you said you would rather die than room with Sunghoon,” Heeseung said.

You frowned. “Park Sunghoon? What’s wrong with him?”

“He collects praying mantises,” Jay explained. “Fun guy, but it’s a bit terrifying.”

“Praying mantises sound a lot more peaceful than listening to reenactments of Fifty Shades of Grey every other night,” you muttered. “Is Sunghoon taking roommate applications?”

“You guys just need to drive them out or something,” Heeseung suggested. “Maybe give them a taste of their own medicine.”

The three of you fell silent for a moment, processing Heeseung’s words.

If you were understanding him correctly, there was a clear sexual undertone in his words—hell, it was hardly considered an undertone with how overt it sounded. You weren’t sure what Jay was thinking about, but Heeseung’s suggestion led you to think of you and Jay having obnoxiously loud sex to get back at your roommates. The very thought made your cheeks burn.

You were 100% sure that Jay would not be on board with this idea. It was absurd to even think about having sex with him for the sake of leveling out the playing field. Plus, you would be crazy if you thought that Jay would want to sleep with you in the first place.

This was when you deemed it proper to obliterate Lee Heeseung.

“That is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” you replied.

“Heeseung, you’re a genius,” Jay said at the same time.

So maybe you and Jay were not, in fact, on the same page.

You both looked at each other, both confused for different reasons. You were gaping at him like an idiot, and he was looking at you like you were crazy for refusing. Heeseung, meanwhile, was just glad that his suggestion was 50% accepted.

“D-doesn’t that mean we’d have to, um… have sex?” you asked, trying your best not to stammer as you spoke.

Jay laid his cards out flat. “We have fake sex.”

Now, you and Heeseung were completely lost. You being confused was one thing, but Heeseung being confused about his own plan was another thing.

“Fake sex?” Heeseung spoke up. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of what Jay was saying before he shook his head. “You know what? Nevermind. You two should leave and figure it out yourselves. I’d rather not be part of this conversation, so go decide amongst yourselves if you’re gonna have… fake sex, or chill with Sunghoon’s preying mantises or whatever.”

“C’mon, you don’t wanna hear about our faux sexcapade?” Jay teased, but Heeseung was already pushing you two out the door. “I guess that’s a no,” he said as the RA closed the door on their faces. Jay turned back to you with newfound confidence. “So, fake sex!”

You raised a brow, staring at his lips because you were a whore. He was so close that you could detect the faint scent of his strawberry lemonade lollipop.

“What exactly does fake sex entail?”

“You know, pretending we’re having sex so that they get the message and start shutting the fuck up,” Jay explained. “All you have to do is moan like you’re having the time of your life.”

Jay’s room was a few doors down the hall. You two were far too close to actually putting this plan into action. You hated admitting it, but it was actually a solid plan; you were sure that Minjeong and Jake would get the message if they experienced what it was like to be in your shoes. Plus, they were in Jake’s room right now, so it was the perfect opportunity for you and Jay to teach them a lesson.

You didn’t have any reason to say no. There was nothing cheesy holding you back like the fear of ruining your friendship with Jay. In fact, you had always thought Jay was insanely attractive, especially when he was sucking on that lollipop of his. Even though this was a sham, you were probably being given the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Are you totally sure about this?” you asked. “You really think they’re gonna be quieter if we do this?”

“I’m positive.”

This was the stupidest idea of your life. You supposed it didn’t matter, though, considering you were pretty stupid anyway.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Let’s do it.”

After more discussion and preparation for your scheme, you and Jay found yourselves in his room thirty minutes later. You had never been with him in his room alone before, and it was a little pathetic that your first time visiting was to partake in a fake sex ploy. His room was surprisingly neat and tidy, though, but you realized that it was probably because Jake always nagged him to clean.

Just as you thought, the muffled sounds from Minjeong and Jake were audible as they were a wall away. You were genuinely impressed that their stamina didn’t let up. It had been a long time since you had hooked up with someone, but you were certain you wouldn’t be able to last that long.

When you looked at Jay, he gave you a silent gesture to commence the plan.

You balked, feeling embarrassed already. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves. You had to commit to the role if you wanted to succeed. You weren’t sure if you could take yourself seriously, but, willing your voice not to go shaky, you let out an exaggerated cry.

“Oh, Jay!” you moaned out. “You’re so fucking big!”

“Chill. You sound like a Euphoria character.”

“I have to Maddy Perez it up if I want them to take the hint!” you whispered back, harsher than you intended, but Jay received the message well.

“F-fuck! You’re so wet.” Jay’s voice broke at the end, immediately covering his face with his hand. You snorted, trying not to break into a fit of laughter, and Jay shot you a threatening look. He was failing miserably, though, because his face was completely red. “God, you’re so… tight?” Jay groaned into his hands. “I’m gonna kill myself.”

“Louder,” you instructed. “Bolder.”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“It was your idea!” You tutted and got on top of his bed, kneeling on one of the pillows. “Watch this: Jay—oh!—you’re so fucking hot! Keep fucking me like that!”

The plan was definitely working. You were hearing less sounds from Jake’s room, and their moans were definitely dying down. When you looked back at Jay to see if he understood your little lesson, you were surprised to see that he was redder than ever.

“You know, I think you’re better at this than I am,” Jay said, “even if you do sound kind of stupid.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “You have to milk the performance to get them to shut up, you know?” You turned back to face the wall that separated Jay and Jake’s room, crying out, “Fuck! Jay, give it to me!”

“You sound so fake.”

You scowled. “You’re not even helping!”

“You want my help?” Jay hummed, walking over to you. “Yeah, let’s make this act more believable.”

Before you could respond, Jay slid his hand between your legs and started rubbing the apex of your shorts. You gasped at the sudden contact, feeling your knees buckle under you. Jay slid his free arm around your waist and slid his hand under your shirt to feel you up. Even with his thumb planted on your clothed clit, you were still trying to process what the fuck had just happened.

“Why’re you so quiet all of a sudden?��� Jay asked. “Shouldn’t you be moaning? Keep it going, Y/N. You were so good at sounding like such a slut earlier.”

You were getting more and more wet, and you were sure Jay noticed it, too. His rubbing turned from teasing to fervent, and before you knew it, he had pushed you down on his bed and started pulling down your shorts. Well, rather, you started taking them off yourself and let him help you.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, gripping your thighs as he eyed the thin fabric of your underwear. “You’re the star actress here, so you decide. Fingers or mouth?”

You eyed the strawberry lemonade lollipop that was still in his mouth. “Both?”

Jay chuckled. “You really are needy, aren’t you?”

Taking the sweet out of his mouth, he placed it on top of the wrapper on his desk. You thought he would just throw the whole thing away, but you supposed your neighbor didn’t like being wasteful.

Jay practically tore your underwear off, immediately planting his thumb on your clit and rubbing small, precise circles around the ball of nerves. You were whimpering under his touch, screwing your eyes shut when he bent down to lick a long stripe along your folds.

He pulled away to plunge two fingers into your soaking cunt, pleased with how your walls were contracting around his digits. Although, Jay was still unsatisfied by your lack of volume, so he started sucking on your clit as he scissored his fingers inside of you.

“O-oh my god—fuck!” you cried out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth right after a moan tore itself from your throat. Closing your eyes, you continued to let out muffled moans with your hand blocking the sounds.

Jay was clearly not satisfied with this.

He pulled away with a sigh, tearing you away from the building orgasm that was yet to release. You felt a bit angry when it dissipated, shooting Jay a dirty look. All he did, though, was smirk at your reaction, and that made you feel more flustered.

You supposed it was his way of making it up to you, but Jay ducked his head down to move in for a kiss. He sealed his lips over yours, kissing you slowly and deepening it with each passing second. It grew more hot, languid, and messy, and your tongues were both desperately sliding against each other.

His lips were so warm and soft against yours. It was if you were under a spell when they were pressed to yours, making you lose all sense of control. All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and draw him closer. You threw your leg around his hip, aching for more contact, more friction.

When Jay pulled back for air, he chuckled lowly. “What’d that taste like?” he asked.

You licked your lips before answering shyly, “Strawberry lemonade.”

He smiled and kissed you again, this time slower and more passionate. You closed your eyes and held his cheek as his lips moved in perfect unison with yours. You had been kissed before, but never like this. Something about Jay was so intoxicating in the very way he carried himself, and now, you felt weak at his very touch.

He pulled away to ghost his lips down the column of your neck. “Want me to fuck you?”

You whined, tugging at the front of his shirt. Every nerve in your body was screaming for him to just touch you all over and split you apart.

“That’s not enough, doll.” He mocked a pout, feigning sympathy. “Use your words. You were all talk before I started touching you, hm? What happened to that?”

“Jay,” you whimpered.

“Yes?”

“I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” he mocked, grinning at you. “Bolder.”

You whined. “Just fuck me already!”

Seemingly satisfied, Jay started unbuttoning his pants, yanking them down and kicking them off from where they pooled at his ankles. You sat up to peel off your shirt as he scoured through his nightstand for condoms. When he found one, he used his teeth to open the wrapper, taking the rubber out and sliding it onto his cock with a few pumps.

He was nothing short of impressive. You were already weak at the sight of his rippling abs and the mouthwatering size of his cock. His ego was inflating higher and higher when he caught sight of you drooling over him.

“Lay down,” he instructed. “You asked me to give it to you earlier, so you’re gonna take every single inch of me.”

Your heartbeat was going crazy—both of them.

When you were flat on his bed, Jay got over you and started pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone. You whimpered, sliding your hand into his hair for leverage, but that hardly helped when he slipped his hand under your bra to grope your chest.

He pulled his hand away to reach behind you, undoing the clip of your bra with one snap. You were honestly jealous; you couldn’t even undo your own bra that quickly.

Once you discarded your bra, tossing it to the floor along with the rest of your clothes, Jay started leaving hot kisses around your nipple. Then, he sucked on your hard nipple itself, leaving you a moaning mess while heat pricked your skin.

“You wet enough for me?” he mumbled against your skin.

You nodded, and oh god, you were dripping for him. “Please, please, please just give it to me.”

Jay pushed himself inside of you, and the simultaneous moans that fell from both of your lips was almost beautiful. He held your hips firmly and rubbed slow circles with his thumb as he eased himself inside of you, adjusting to the tight squeeze of your cunt. You cried at how tight you were, digging your nails into his back and burying your face in his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted. “For real, this time.” (You despised how he had to specify that.)

Jay bottomed out inside you, and the feeling of his cock filling you up left tears welling up in your eyes. Unexpectedly, Jay immediately wiped at your tears and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, whispering a sweet apology as he waited for you to adjust to his length.

“O-oh fuck—right there,” you begged once his cock hit that perfect spot right under your cervix.

“Here?” he asked, thrusting in and out of you to get to that sweet spot again.

There must be nothing Jay couldn’t do because he found it almost immediately, taking your choked sob as a sign that he struck gold. The bed creaked and shook as Jay tried to find a proper rhythm, and you were starting to forget your original reason for being here as you moaned and sobbed under him. His thrusts were so purposeful and precise, intending to make you see stars as he pinned you down and fucked you into the mattress.

You babbled something incoherent—something about how close you were, but you were sure Jay picked up on the message by how your legs were starting to shake.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he cooed into your ear, “give it to me.”

Your orgasm was blinding. The preamble of heat blooming under your skin was hardly enough to prepare you for the intense pleasure that started coursing through your body. You were drowning in a sea of molten lava, hardly able to ground yourself as Jay fucked you through your orgasm. He had to grip your hand to remind you that you were still with him, still in the bedroom in his apartment.

Your cunt must have been pulsing around his cock too tightly in the meanwhile because Jay reached his high, too, cumming inside you with a little groan. He sighed, relieved, and pulled out of you so that he could toss out the condom.

“You okay?” he asked, pushing your hair back when you seemed to have recuperated. “You were so, so good for me.”

“Do… do you think we were loud enough?” you asked in a small voice. This couldn’t be part of the act, but you were still scared that Jay would pretend nothing happened.

He snorted. “I think they left a long time ago when I actually started fucking you.” He shifted so that he was holding you in his arms, spooning you and letting his breath tickle your neck. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to make a move on you for a while now.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, but it was kinda hard when Heeseung was always there.”

You giggled, turning to face him. “Maybe you should stop talking about Sunghoon and his praying mantises. That’s not really an effective method to hit on a girl, you know?”

Jay cupped his hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” he silenced you. “I don’t wanna hear it from the girl who needs our incompetent RA to help her with her roommate problems.”

“You do the same thing!” you defended, though your voice was muffled.

“Like I said: shhh.” Jay chuckled. “Plus, now we can just go over to each other’s place when they decide to start going at it like rabbits.”

“You’re right,” you said once you pried Jay’s hand away. “I have one requirement, though.”

“What is it?”

“You’re sharing that strawberry lemonade lollipop next time.”

[lixiehugs]

Mila in Chillin’ in the DREAM 8lace Ep.5 : Hope It Never Fades Out

a/n : italics are in english.

Mila’s beer pong team is Jeno, Jaemin and Haechan.

“No! I wanted to be with Mark!” Mila whines. “Why?” Renjun asks. “Because he’s actually kinda good at beer pong.”

Mila makes the first shot for her team, and they cheer and hug her because she is literally their only hope.

“Jisung, why are you so good at beer pong? Have you been playing?” Mila asks him jokingly.

“Haechan! If you keep screaming and being annoying, you’re only gonna get worse at the game!” Mila yells.

At 5:46 (in the video), when Mark makes a very strange sound, Mila cackles so hard she has to crouch down on the floor. This makes the rest of the group laugh.

“Oh, my god, can I please join Mark’s team?” Mila, after Jeno fails, yet again.

“I have never failed at beer pong this horribly,” Mila states.

“Personally, I don’t think that I should have to clean up because I carried my team,” Mila says sarcastically. She helps anyway.

Around the fire, Mila sits between Chenle and Mark, holding a guitar. Mila plays Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová with Mark. She and him are the only ones singing the words correctly.

“Mel! Mel! Should we sing Walk you home live?” Haechan asks. 

“Yes!” Mila grins, turning to look at Mark.

“I almost cried a little,” Mark says. 

“Already?” Chenle asks.

“I’m sorry, is it not the right mood?” 

“Five, six, seven, eight,” Haechan counts them in. As they start to play, Mila sings quietly, trying to concentrate more on playing. She encourages Jisung and Jeno to sing their parts as they are her favorites. 

“Guys, let’s just stare at it, one, two, three,” Haechan states. 

“No talking?” Mila asks. 

“No, you can talk,” Haechan answers. 

“It’s funny if we try to do it on purpose, though. It’s burning nicely,” Jaemin says. 

“I want to touch it,” Mila comments, but no one reacts to it. 

“Why is the fire moving so much?” Jisung asks. 

“It’s because of the wind,” Jaemin replies. 

“It dances really well,” Haechan says and Mila smiles. 

“It’s got such a flexible body,” Jaemin observes.

“But beer pong made me realize that we can finally play that game since Jisung isn’t underage anymore,” Mark says. 

“But, honestly, alcohol really tastes so bad,” Jaemin states. 

“It really is bad,” Jisung agrees. 

“Maybe alcohol is bad, does that stop me from drinking it? No,” Mila says, making the rest laugh. 

“There’s only one thing Jaemin likes… KGB,” Jeno states. 

“It’s fine as long as I don’t taste the alcohol,” Jaemin explains.

“Same! Unless if I’m drinking it quickly,” Mila points her finger at him while nodding her head in agreement.

“Fans told me, in the sixth year of our debut… Mark is now twenty-three.” Jisung states. Mila makes a surprised face. 

“You’re twenty-three? Oh, in Korean age,” Mila asks before answering her own question right after. 

“I’m twenty in the sixth year of my debut,” Jisung continues. 

“Wait a minute, what are you trying to say?” Mark asks, feigning offence. 

“Are you calling us old?” Mila asks the youngest.

“I hate sweet potatoes, but that’s really good,” Haechan says. Jeno lets Mark take a bite. 

“Isn’t it good?” Jeno asks. 

“It is,” Mark nods. 

“Can I try it?” Mila asks and Jeno lets her take a bite as well. She takes a really small bite, barely a nibble. “I don’t like sweet potatoes, but it’s pretty good, I guess.”

“You barely even took a bite,” Renjun mocks.

Jeno opens up an actual potato. “Wa, that looks really good,” Mila comments. “Did you say you’d put sugar on here?” Mark asks. “Sugar?” Mila asks in disbelief. “It’s really good,” Jisung tries to persuade. “Isn’t salt better?” Mark asks. “Yeah, I would think so, too,” Mila agrees.

“Should we do something like this? You can just say something you want to tell someone. But you can’t say who it is,” Mark suggests. Mila “ooh”s with the rest.

[writefightandflightclub]

Disarming (Santi x fem!reader)

Summary: you and Santi - good friends- are Best Man and Maid of Honour at Frankie’s wedding, and guess what? There’s only one bed!

What is this? This is 5/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. The prompt is “We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend”, requested by @woakiees​. Another double trope extravaganza! Hadley, I’m so pleased you suggested Santi for this one, as he immediately came to mind when I was writing this prompt :D Thank you so much for requesting! <3

If you’d like to  read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Apparently I get carried away EVERY time I write Santi. WHY AM I LIKE THIS?! :-/

Word count: 7.5k. I’M SO SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

Rating: 18+ ONLY (minors out, please, do not read or interact)

Warnings: it gets angsty in the middle. Reader has nightmare- comfort offered. Mentions of reader being “hurt” in the past but vague and unspecified. They have a fight. One or two alcohol mentions- no actual consumption. Food mention. Swearing. Steam leading into smut but not explicit- mentions of masturbation, erections, making-out, one brief allusion to choking kink. Let me know if I missed anything.

Tagging: @isvvc-pvscvl​ @casifer-is-king​ (loads of the tags aren’t working :-/)

GIF: @nathan-bateman​

From the first moment you met Santi, you had simply fallen into step with him. It was effortless, and so, as soon as you found yourself by his side, you stayed there. What’s more, that’s exactly where he wanted you to be.

Despite the man’s hard, no-nonsense edge -which you also appreciated- he was warm and charming. It was easy to connect with him, in a way it hadn’t often been for you. For him too - or so the boys told you - the way you surpassed his defences was a rare thing. It shouldn’t have worked, perhaps. Usually, he was slow to trust and you were quick to love, but on this occasion none of that seemed to apply, the two of you tumbling squarely into a fast-friendship; one deeper and more intense, perhaps, than its duration might suggest. Still, despite the boys’ inferences that you would quickly become an item, and Santi’s continual attempts to blur the lines between this and… something more, “friends” is what you have remained.

You had felt it immediately with him. Something different. You simply... flowed. You fit. It was immediately evident, even on that first night, in the way you orbited around one another, setting up an impromptu beer pong of all things. You moved together with a fluidity and a precision that seems almost tactical- as though you too had run countless manoeuvres in the field with him. You could read him and understand him as though you had drilled his habits and patterns and idiosyncrasies over and over; learning him. However, he was never that much effort - the two of you came naturally to each other, little learning required. You knew each other with your gut.

At that fateful party, when you each escaped to the back porch steps for some air at a serendipitous moment, the conversation had immediately flowed, and not only as a result of his natural, disarming charm. The silence even came easily rightaway – a comfortable thing, the space between you stuffed with contentment, rather than the feeling of a gaping vacuum, needlessly filled. It turned out his best friend was dating yours (the pair to be wed this very weekend) but that almost seemed like the cherry on top, rather than the thing bringing you to each other.

Safe to say, what was true then is true now. You get on so well. You find him fun and easy and generous and you love the man dearly.

…Most of the time.

Those other times, though? Santiago “Pope” Garcia can be a pain in your ass. But that’s another reason you love him, you guess. Keeps things interesting.

“Please don’t kill me,” Santi says sheepishly, and it’s obvious to you he’s laying on the charm - actively trying to be as disarming as possible as he saunters over from the reception desk. For a moment, despite all his training, he looks as though he believes you could pull it off, too.

Your annoyance is already prepped; locked and loaded, as he pads squarely towards the banquette where you are sat - amidst a sea of luggage. You’ve been observing his attempts to charm the desk clerk with interest (his efforts, you surmise, at least partially effectual), and judging from the slight level of desperation in his efforts, you can already tell he fucked up somehow.

“What did you do?” you say impatiently, even as a smile twitches at the corner of your lips.

“I booked all the rooms we needed, for all of the wedding guests, right? 13 rooms here, and all 10 at the hotel across town. 4 more in guesthouses,” he recaps. “Got Frankie and Mila a great deal too, remember?”

You remember. And yet, you fold your arms across your chest, looking up at him incredulously. Okay then. Rolling with your attitude, the man takes a different tack. He sits next to you. Smiles. Leans in. Pats your thigh. He’s trying to disarm you too, you realise. It’s going to take more than that - you’re not some flimsy desk clerk who will form a puddle and bat your eyes at the first sign of his charm.

“Well, funny story. I may have forgotten to book our rooms,” he blurts.

Oh? Oh, great. Yeah. This is a grand fuck-up. The whole damn town is booked-out. It’s a small town. No longer amused, your nostrils flare in annoyance as you tug in a slow breath, schooling your tone just a little before you speak. “You what?” Okay, you didn’t manage to school it all that much.

“Look, I already sort of fixed it,” he smooths. That explains the flirting with the clerk. Although, you think, glancing back at her. She’s pretty. That partially explains the flirting with the clerk, then, you mentally correct. “There’s just one, teeny-tiny issue.”

You raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes. Well?

“We’re gonna have to share a room.”

You blink at him a few times, in surprise. Well, it’s not ideal. For a number of reasons. But you can think of worse things, truth be told. And he’s not wrong. It is a solution. Still, on his reveal, a succession of emotions and micro-assessments are bounced back and forth between your eyes and his, until you land on resigned annoyance, exhaling a long sigh. That is, until Frankie appears in the lobby, swanning in like he’s walking on air. He probably is, given that he’s getting married this weekend. His face splits with a smile so wide you reckon it should be painful to maintain, and you stand to greet him as he heads over.

You’re glad he’s happy. It means that you and Santi, as Maid of Honour and Best man, respectively, are doing a fantastic job of deflecting all of the stress away from the happy couple. Indeed, that assessment certainly feels true – you do feel stressed. Still, the two of you immediately paint your faces with masking smiles; though, in fairness, it’s hard not to smile while looking at Frankie – his obvious joy is infectious.

Frankie wraps you both in a hug, then rubs his palms together like an excited kid. “I don’t have much time. Just gonna say a quick hello to my parents. Apparently, my mom’s already started crying? Can you two sort some extra tissues for the ceremony or something? Oh, and is everything okay with the rooms?”

“With this guy? Are you kidding?”, you say before you think, throwing your thumb towards Santi. Immediately, his eyes submit a powerful plea to you to keep schtum- it is written all over his face that he doesn’t want to let Frankie down. Not even in the smallest of ways.

Frankie would find his little error funny, probably. But he can find it funny after the ceremony. “Everything is A-OK! This guy? He has every single detail taken care of.”

Frankie grins, his eyes narrowing proudly at Santi as he slaps him on the back, laying profuse thanks on the two of you; then, he floats away again, as if on a cloud. Santi’s brown eyes are big with gratitude when you look at him again, and you can’t help but weaken. You’ll admit, it’s really not that bad of a fuck-up. Besides, you’re tired. Between the drive out here, the wedding rehearsal, and a never-ending list of errands, the day has been long. You just want to get to the room, and maybe even clock a snooze before the rehearsal dinner tonight.

“Fine,” you agree, albeit through gritted teeth. “We can share a damn room.”

Santi looks visibly relieved, and squeezes your shoulder in thanks. You’d even been nice enough not to bite his head off. “Yeah. We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend.” Suddenly, he doesn’t sound quite as certain.

“Sure. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?” you smile nervously.  

He returns your smile and swivels, heading back towards the desk.

“Oh, wait!” you call after him. “Is it a double or a twin?” you ask in horror. Sharing a room is one thing, but sharing a bed?

He turns, looking over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter!”, he winks. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna have to take it.”

Oh. Oh dear.

You’re inclined to agree -you don’t have many options- but when you catch yourself stealing a glance at the man’s shapely butt as he walks back to the desk, you begin to chew your bottom-lip nervously.

Right. Ha.

What could possibly go wrong?

**********************

It turns out, sharing a room with Santi is resoundingly not bad at all. In fact, at first, it’s as easy as everything else is with him - even between your hurried preparations for the evening, unpacking, shuttling items to the relevant members of the wedding party, and calling down to reception several times to check the logistics for the rehearsal dinner. Even getting dressed, you find an easy flow as you each flit in and out of the bathroom, dancing around each other with ease and only a hint of friendly bickering.

Santi’s respectful too- always knocking and announcing himself before entering a space, and averting his gaze when he needs to, given that you’re rushing around and undressing. You even manage to ignore the fact there’s only one bed for the longest time, parking that specific panic for later. Even then, he has already made reception send up extra pillows and blankets, forming a barricade in the middle of the bed so you two can comfortably separate.

Thankfully, you are so busy that the idea of sharing a bed with Santi doesn’t even cross your mind until you’re finally ready, dressed in your finery. When you step out of the bathroom, Santi -sat on the edge of said bed- stands up, thrusting his hands into his suit trousers as he takes the sight of you in, pulling the material taut -in a rather pleasing way- across his hips and thighs. He ends up slightly slack-jawed for a moment as his eyes trail over you, brewing with a gentle, self-conscious heat. “Fuck,” he says softly, his voice gruff. “You look…” a little gulp trails down his throat as you give him a little twirl. “…hot”, he says, his eyebrow ticking up on the last beat.

“Wait until you see my bridesmaid dress,” you smile, and he returns it easily, those gorgeous creases appearing around his eyes.

Unconsciously, you lick your lips. You can’t help but wonder, vaguely, what it would be like to push him down on to the mattress. Maybe straddle him. Fuck, you should have known this would be a bad idea. A heat rising in your face at that thought of that, you distract yourself by lifting his suit jacket from the back of the chair, holding it out for him as he slips it on to his shoulders, and feeling the luxurious texture of it beneath your fingers.

It’s a grey suit, tailored, and it hugs him in all the right places. The cool colour is perfect against his warm-toned brown skin, and brings out the salt in his salt-and-pepper curls, and in the rough rasp of grey flecked through his stubble.

You try desperately not to notice how good he looks, but this may be your greatest challenge yet.

“Come on,” you encourage, nodding towards the door. “We better head down.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, half-heartedly. The way his eyes are subtly roving over you, though, he looks like he has something entirely different in mind for dinner.

“You’re probably going to spend all night being chased by the single bridesmaids,” you add casually as you collect your purse, and apply a final dab of lipstick in front of the mirror. You’ve already clocked a few members of the wedding party eyeing him up, and you don’t exactly blame them for being thirsty. Besides, Santi is a huge flirt; so perhaps he’ll be the one doing the chasing. You wouldn’t be surprised if he ended the night with his tongue thrust deep in someone’s throat, which -you assume- is typical Santi fashion.

“Isn’t it traditional, anyway,” he smirks cheekily, applying a splash of cologne, “for the Best Man to hook-up with one of the bridesmaids?”

Lord, does he have to smell so… edible.

“Got news for you, man. You fucked up. You can’t exactly bring a girl back to your room now, can you?!” you tease, nodding back towards your shared bed, a wall of pillows already arranged down the middle. You mean it to come out in good-humour, but you can’t scrub the hint of jealousy from your tone entirely.

You feel so silly for being jealous of whomever he may hook-up with. After all, Santi is always the one testing the boundaries of friendship with you. It’s not like he’s ever made a secret of the fact he’s attracted to you- and you are the one here will a firm line in the sand. A line you simply won’t cross with him. Can’t cross. You want to - of course you do, but after being hurt in the past, you have simply built-up far too many defences; or, more accurately, just the right amount of defences, you think, to protect you. So, no matter how disarming the man is, you simply have to keep your guard up; because if he breached your walls, you know everything else would come tumbling so easily down.

You had fallen so easily into friendship with him, and you are certain that you would fall just as recklessly in love with him.

You’re not ready for that.

You can’t take being hurt again. Besides; Santi? He’s an incredible friend. He’s tenaciously loyal and dedicated to his squad. But when it comes to love, and sex, you doubt whether serious is even his thing - and you’re too afraid to ask.

“You ready to do this?” he asks, with a wink.

“Yep,” you nod. “Let’s roll,” and with that, you turn, heading for the hallway.

“Princesa- that dress really highlights your ass,” he praises as he tags along behind you.

“Thank you, it’s true,” you smile devilishly, already beginning to let your guard down, just a little. He’s simply so disarming. “Speaking of, Garcia – did you get your trousers a size too small on purpose?”

“Oh, you noticed?” he retorts, smugly, guiding you through the door with a hand on the small of your back.

Okay. Sometimes you flirt back. After all – look at him.

Especially in that damn suit.

***********************************

The rehearsal dinner goes swell. Frankie and Mila are a picture-perfect, loved-up couple, and they grin their way through the evening as if they slept with coat hangers in their mouths. The speeches are well-received, including Will’s, thus setting a high bar for you and Santi tomorrow. (You may be biased, but Santi’s is ten times funnier, and it’s going to kill, in your opinion.) There are no dramas through the evening- logistical or familial, and thanks to you and Santi overseeing everything with a military precision, it looks as though -so far- it is shaping up to be the perfect wedding weekend.

Finally, once your duties are over for the night, you are able to let your hair down a little, so to speak, and enjoy the food and company on offer. Still, with a big day ahead tomorrow, things wind down relatively early, and -having lost track of Santi at some point- you find yourself back at the shared room a little while before him. You usually burn out more quickly than he does in social situations, but even taking that into consideration, you begin to fret about where he has gotten to. With the way he was flirting his way through the party, though, it doesn’t take a genius to guess what (or who) might be keeping him up.

You try to sleep but you can’t, your mind going to the worst places, so, by the time Santi does return -softly cracking the door, and padding in with his shoes in his hands so as not to wake you- you have stewed in your own thoughts long enough to have become a little cranky. A little… green-eyed.

“Hey,” he greets in surprise when he enters, immediately noticing the soft lamp glow, and seeing you still sitting up in the bed, mindlessly watching the flicker of the tv on mute.

“Hey,” you return, your voice noticeably strained. “Have a fun time?” You find yourself wishing you weren’t sharing a room, then you wouldn’t have to know what he got up to.

“Yeah,” he replies softly, slipping off his jacket and laying it over the back of a chair. “Did you? How come you’re still up? Thought for sure you’d be wiped out by now.”

So, he did think of you, then?

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply neutrally, fixing your eyes dead ahead as he begins to slip out of his trousers and shirt too, until he’s dressed in only his tight black boxers. Next, he takes off his watch and sets it at the bedside, and you notice that he smells of perfume. A cloying, floral scent that makes you feel a little sick.

“Just gonna have a quick shower and then I’ll slip in with you, okay?” he says, his voice slow and deep and muted, matching the soft light.

You still don’t look at him. You can’t.

“Do what you want. You usually do,” you bite, the words tasting bitter as soon as they have left your lips, and tears of regret pooling as your anger dissolves.

You don’t blame him if he was with someone – you really don’t. You’re simply angry at yourself; because you wish you could be that person, and you can’t for the life of you seem to find a way.

“Okay. What was that for?” he bristles, reacting defensively, turning towards you. And perhaps it’s because it’s late and he’s tired, or because certain demons feel safer coming out under the cover of darkness, but he doesn’t stop there. Especially when all he gets from you is a stony, pointed silence. “You know what? Actually, no. You don’t get to do this”, he hisses, and it is the first time you’ve ever heard him direct any genuine anger at you.

It doesn’t half sting.

“Do what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“You don’t get to be mad when I give my attention to someone who actually wants it,” his voice is hushed, but his words rattle through you as if he had yelled them. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Guess what, I’m not yours.”

“That’s not fair”, you snap back, and then things are quickly escalating.

“Isn’t it?” he asks, rasping a hand over his stubble in distress. “I mean, come on. Shit. You know that I want more but I…” he exhales a disgruntled laugh. “You shoot me down, which is your prerogative, honestly, but you can’t have it both ways. You can’t knock me back all the time and then be pissed off when I look elsewhere.”

You meet his face, the planes of it shadowed and angled harshly with anger, suddenly so unfamiliar to you, and it causes your eyes to bloom with tears. You two look the opposite of Frankie and Mila; of a picture-perfect couple. But you’re not even a couple at all, are you?

You see him try. To blunt the emotion which is bubbling up. To soften. But he has uncorked something he now can’t put back in. “Fuck, I just wish that….” he pinches his lips together and shakes his head, planting his hands on his hips and looking at the floor. “If you don’t want me, just put me out of my fucking misery. Just say it. Just fucking tell me.”

Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces at the thought you make him miserable. At the way his voice breaks. At the way he thinks you don’t want him. Maybe you were wrong, thinking that you could be friends at all. Thinking that could be enough for him.

Your lower lip trembles, and your fingers clutch the edge of the blanket. “I… I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you that I don’t want you, Santi.”

You can’t because it isn’t true. It could not be further from the truth, in fact.

He puffs out air, an exasperated sound, his hand raising up to tangle in his grizzled curls. Raising his voice a little more. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me the other thing either?”

“I.. I..” You try, but no words will come. You simply shake your head, swallowing a sob, your eyes almost brimming over.

He nods. He nods, his mouth slanted down. “Great. Got it,” he huffs.

You hate this. You hate how much you’re hurting him.

“Santi,” you breathe weakly, but it is too weak to blunt the force of his emotion. To halt his trajectory, and so, resigned, he turns towards the bathroom, grabbing-up a fresh white towel from the counter. Before he closes the door, he turns to you once more, now speaking softly, his eyes as sad as yours. “You know,” he says, his index finger sawing back-and-forth over the stubble at his chin. “For the record, I wasn’t with anyone else. I can’t even fucking think about anyone else but you. I was late back to the room because I couldn’t face it.” His voice becomes small and pained. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to just curl up next to you and act like I don’t care.” His eyebrow ticks up, and he adds, with a final flourish. “Guess I should have taken a lesson from you.”

Oh, how it stings, pain flowering in your chest like a bruise, but you hold yourself together until he’s out of sight. Then, when he’s gone, you immediately cave in on yourself, falling on to your side and screwing your eyes shut, clamping your hand over your mouth so that he can’t hear you crying as wet tears spill onto your pillow.

When he comes back into the room, after a long shower, you simply screw your eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. You hear him sigh heavily, and mumble something to himself under his breath, before dragging a few pillows and a spare blanket down on to the floor.

A few more silent tears roll over the bridge of your nose.

You guess you wouldn’t be sharing a bed with him after all.

***********************

You wake panicked in the night, sitting bolt upright in the bed. A cold wash of sweat over your skin chills you, even though you feel like you’re burning-up.

Immediately, you reach for him, for Santi, calling his name even as your fear strangles the sound in your throat. Your heart is thudding, and your breaths are sawing in and out of you, but your grasping hands find nothing to your side but pillows and blanket.

Unfortunately, you are used to this occurrence, and you quickly realise it was “only” a nightmare. Still, the feelings and images it conjured linger in your body, and around you in the shifting, seemingly fluid shadows of the room.

With a release of tension, you whimper, leaning forward and cradling your head in your trembling hands, and you try to ground yourself. To steady your breath and your heartbeat, like you’ve practiced. As you do so, the shadows to your left shift and change, and, even in the pitch-black you can feel him, a safe and warm presence, instantly travelling to your side, his weight dipping the mattress. His soothing, sandy voice filtering through the shadows and cutting back the tendrils of your nightmare like a Disney prince hacking through cursed vines.

You vaguely remember that he’s mad at you - but you can’t help it. Can’t help asking. “Hold me?” you plead, desperately afraid that he won’t.

Still, without questions or hesitation, you feel the wall of remaining pillows coming down, the defences around you quite literally being dismantled – a figurative wall between you shifting away along with it. He shushes you, and you focus on his voice, until he is close enough that the scent of him wraps around you, before his arms follow closely after.

You reach for him in return. You reach for him in every way possible.

“It’s just a nightmare,” he soothes. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you,” and there is pain in his voice on your behalf, as if he tries to bear the burden of it for you.

“Closer,” you plead, and before you know it, he is shifting you on to your side, slotting his sturdy yet soft body around you, not caring that you feel clammy and hot against his bare skin. He simply loops his arms and draws your back, closer to his chest, becoming your big spoon.  

He calms you, hands enveloping yours and bundling them against your chest, his nose nuzzling into your hair, and his deep steady breaths slowing your breathing as you let his calm and his rhythms overcome you. He holds you, until the feelings pass, not caring how long it takes – and with any anger from before apparently forgotten.

This pain is all too familiar to him, you know. It something that Santi understands. It is your own and it is not the same as his, true, but you know it is familiar enough that he will feel the ache of it echoing in his own chest. You know that he is accustomed enough to bearing his own pain, that when yours is too heavy to carry, he will help you hold it for a while. And so, he holds you, while you are a tender thing, bruised and afraid, and he keeps you safe; with all your walls down, all of your defences collapsed, he becomes your fortress.

You never thought that letting yourself be so vulnerable could allow you to feel quite as safe as this.

As you lie together, Santi continues to usher soft reassurances into your ear, his words like charms and incantations to ward off the ghosts which haunt you. And, after a series of slow, stretched moments, you become more settled, and Santi feels you relax against him.

After a few moments more, he eventually whispers a small question into your hair. In the dark, the question feels safe to come out, perhaps.

“Do you always call for me when you…?” he trails off, thinking better of it. “I’m sorry- forget it, you don’t have to answer that.”

You don’t. You know you don’t. You don’t even truthfully know the answer. It’s likely that you do call for him, though how would you know, when you’re usually alone? But, there is something else you can tell him, while it is safe to come out in the dark. Something you want to tell him, before you build your walls all the way back up.

“Santi,” you begin, timidly, and his fingers skim softly up and down your arms, encouraging you to go on. “I-I’ve been hurt before. And, I want to be with you. I want to let you in but… I’m. I’m not ready. I’m trying so hard but I… I can’t.”

There is a long beat, and you realise he has held in a breath only when he releases it all at once, fanning hot across the back of your neck.

You are afraid. Afraid of what he might say, in response – what he might feel, but you think, maybe, it might be something like relief? And, Santi squeezes you, just a little tighter. A little closer. “Don’t worry about that now, okay?” he soothes, his voice feather soft. “Just… know one thing, okay, Princesa? Whenever you are ready? I’m waiting.”

This time your heart fills with a different emotion, all the spaces in it flooded with contentment, Santi’s words followed by a perfect, happy silence.

A soft smile blooms on your face.

It was not a confession of waiting impatiently, you understand, but an invitation to take your time to arrive at him. He’s not trying to bring down your defences at all, is he? He’s waiting for you to open the door, and invite him in. He’s waiting until you are ready. He simply needed to know that you are on your way, even if your footsteps are getting you there slowly.

For now, though, the thought of it is too much. More than you’re ready for.

So, you simply let him hold you.

To disarm you further.

To walk yourself a little closer toward where you want to be. With him; by his side.

****************************************

In the morning, you wake up tangled around each other, Santi’s arm wrapped securely around your back and your head settled on his chest. He is still snoring lightly – cutely - when you awake, and so, as the night prior comes flooding back to you, you hastily try to extricate yourself from him; even if his bare skin feels so good against yours that you never want to move. You’re apparently not so subtle- or he’s a helluva light-sleeper – as, just when you pull away, Santi wakes up, quickly rushing to prove his innocence.

“You had a nightmare,” he croaks, still trying to peel his eyes open. “You asked me to- “.

“-I know. I remember,” you reassure, sitting up in bed, the blankets tugged to your chest. Santi shuffles, opting to assume the same position on his own side, mirroring you, rubbing his eyes.

You’re still not sure whether to apologise to him or thank him. Or maybe even to wait for an apology from him? Christ. Maybe all of those things or none of them, who even knows? You mentally spin a wheel and land on a casual “Uh. Thank you, for…. You know.”

“Anytime,” he says, turning his head to the side and looking at you earnestly. As if your bickering -your jealousy and his outburst- is all but forgotten. What’s more, you know that he means it.

Admiringly, your eyes wander over him, enjoying a side of him you’ve never quite seen before. Apparently, he’s even more handsome in the morning, with an even thicker, darkened brush of stubble, his grizzled curls dishevelled, and his swooping eyelids still heavy from sleep. Combined, it gives him a sultry, bedroom look. Feeling an involuntary rush of heat in the pit of you, your gaze drops to his corded neck, where, given the special occasion, he has substituted his dog tags for a silver chain, drawing your gaze down over his smooth, brown chest.

Your skin now cooling in the conditioned air of the room, you long for his body heat again, recalling how it felt to be held by him and wishing you had lingered a little longer while you could. Even with your interrupted sleep last night, you have somehow woken feeling refreshed, as though you had slept unreasonably deeply in his arms, reaching a whole new level of contentment - as though you just fit together, perhaps. As though it comes naturally for you to be held by him, and for him to hold you.

There is a silence and it isn’t awkward exactly; more… pregnant, with possibilities. Possibilities you see brewing with a gentle heat in his eyes. So, tearing yourself abruptly away from that line of thought, you lift your phone up from the nightstand, and note that there isn’t long before your alarms sound anyway.

Operation Wedding Day is go.

That should be enough of a distraction for you, shouldn’t it?

“You ready for this, Best Man?” you ask him, with a gentle quirk of your lips.

“Sure. Are you ready, Maid of Honour?”

Ready. Are you ready?

Thoughts of last night swirl in your head.

Well – as Santi flashes you a tentative, disarming smile, with hooded eyes, you certainly feel like you’re getting there. Like soon you could be ready.

“Sure. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Atta girl,” he encourages, folding his arms behind his head as you jump out of bed.

You suddenly don’t care that you’re in nothing but your underwear, as you stretch out your body and track towards the bathroom. “I’ll shower first?”

“We’re sharing a bed,” he teases. “Sure you don’t want to share a shower too?”

You scoff, flashing a mischievous smile right back at him. You’ve always had a soft spot for his flirting, but you feel like -after all that transpired last night- you truly see if for what it is now. You realise why it has never felt like he’s pressuring you - not once. He’s simply reminding you, that as soon as you call for him, he’ll be there. That he’s waiting, when you’re ready.

Reminding you, that as soon as your walls drop, he’ll be your fortress.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get quite that lucky this morning, Garcia.”

You do linger in the doorway, just a little longer than necessary though, so that he can get a better look at you. He’d never look without permission – he proved that yesterday, when you were in various states of disarray- but this time, sensing your invitation, his eyes graze over you slowly, keenly. So, when he strategically moves his hands from behind his head to hide the tenting covers, you don’t mind at all.

You smile devilishly as you slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You’re not sure if he will… take care of himself out in the room – how could you know? But, feeling inspired, you certainly do so in the shower, and it’s a pretty great wake-up call before you face the wedding day.

Maybe sharing a room isn’t so bad. Maybe you could even get used to it.

*********************************************

Frankie and Mila get hitched without a hitch.

Santi goes to the ends of the earth to make sure that Frankie has the best day possible- and at some points, he goes even further than that. His speech was moving and flawless, and pretty fucking funny; even if you are a little (or a lot) biased. Not a dry eye in the house, just as you predicted.

The man adores Frankie with his whole heart, and you could barely hold back the glow of admiration as you listened to him, feeling like it might burst from your chest like a beam of gold sunlight. You felt it especially strongly every time his eyes met yours during the course of the speech, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself stupid each time he did so. And, of course, you were overjoyed to see your best friend have the day of her dreams, with the man of her dreams. If you do say so yourself, you think your speech was pretty killer too.

Suffice to say, you ate until your belly was full, loved until your heart hurt, laughed until your sides ached, and danced until your feet ached.

Tonight, unlike last night, you and Santi retire to your shared room at the same time, your arm linked into his, and your shoes carried in your hand to spare your sore feet – there’s a reason you never normally wear shoes like this. Without your heels though, you keep tripping over the hem of your dress almost every few paces, causing you to giggle and Santi to steady you with a warm, rich chuckle, sometimes throwing you an extra hand to assist you.  

You look over at him, furtively, as he recounts some of the more choice moments from the day, immensely enjoying the simple pleasure of hearing him talk and smile and laugh. Seeing him happy. Of course, enjoying how he looks too, you have to admit - even more handsome than he did yesterday (somehow) in midnight blue dress pants, and a white, crisp shirt, now tieless. He’s only grown sexier as the evening drew on too, now with a wide open-collar and rolled up sleeves to accommodate all of the dancing; or, at least, as much dancing as his knees could handle, until he’d simply opted to sit to the side and watch you boogie, his eyes apparently transfixed on you and only you - the advances of the other bridesmaids be damned.

There is something that hits different about the way he looked at you today. His admiration shining deeper than usual. Less like a casual lust, and more like something… serious. You’re not sure why you doubted it before, exactly. Why you have been so inordinately afraid that he might hurt you. You broadly figured him for a smash and dash type of man, which is fine, but you have every reason to believe that he wants more with you.

After all, Santi can be deeply and tenaciously loyal. He has dedicated himself to things deeply and unwaveringly several times over in his life. To his country, to his missions, to his morals, to his squad. And there’s something about the way he looked at you today, you think, that suggests he might dedicate himself to you with the same tenacity. Something far deeper than appreciating how you look in this bridesmaid dress (and oh boy do you look hot). It’s more like the way he looks at Frankie. A little different to that, obviously. But you’re realising he looks at you like he’d never let you down. Not even in the smallest of ways. Like he’d rather go to the ends of the earth -or beyond- than do that.

At least… you think so.

You are sure about one thing though. The way he looks at you? It’s thoroughly disarming.

And so, you arrive at your shared room, utterly wiped out from the day (and night), yet still somehow buzzing with an energy. A gentle suffusing heat under your skin as you watch Santi walk inside and kick off his shoes at the end of the bed, before turning back towards you.

You have entered a few paces behind him, after nearly tripping on your gown all over again by the door, but now, you are quite steady on your feet - aside from that slight, nervous tremble in your quaking legs as he looks at you like that. As Santi looks you up and down, eyes skimming over the contours of your dress and hence everywhere it hugs your figure. Evidently, he likes what he sees.

“Wow,” he breathes, his brown eyes shining as if he’s looking at you for the first time that day, even if his gaze has barely left you all night. “I know it’s the bride’s day, but you look fuckin’ smokin’, sweetie.”

“You think so?” you ask humbly, suddenly feeling unreasonably shy. Flustered even.

“Yeah. I think so,” he nods, positively certain. “Shit, you’re so beautiful.”

You look at him. You look at him in a way which suggests an answer in your eyes instead of a question. A clear intention in your body, instead of uncertainty. But he doesn’t push you. He doesn’t assume. He doesn’t make a move. Instead, his mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile, offering you a lazy flash of teeth, and he shoves his thumbs into his belt loops.

“Well, we’re officially off the clock now, so I’m calling it. Well done, Maid of Honour. Think we nailed it? Made a pretty damn good team?”

A smile lights your face. You did. You flowed. You fit. It was easy.

Fuck. It feels so easy. Why had you ever thought this would be hard?

You nibble on your lip, eyeing him with intention, and a hard swallow trails down his throat in response.

“Off the clock, hmm?” you say breathily. “No more titles or duties? Huh. That’s a real shame.”

“How so?” he asks, his eyes devouring you alive, but his body fixed resolutely in place. Transfixed to the spot.

“Because it’s traditional for the Best Man to get with one of the bridesmaids, isn’t it?”

A slow, disbelieving smile inches over his face, and he looks at his feet, a little bashful. “Gross tradition. Kinda sexist,” he says, and your gaze fixates on his full, curving lips. On his hands, poised and broad at his belt.

“So, you don’t want to make out then?” you ask in your most sultry voice, mere breath.

The man huffs out a quick, broken exhale. “Fuck me. You know I do, sweetie. But only if you’re ready.”

Ready. Are you ready?

“Santiago,” you say, with conviction, your eyes dancing between his. “I’m ready.”

Santi searches your face one last time, just to be certain. He’s sure, of course – has been for a long time, but he needs to know that you truly want this. That you want this now. So, he looks at you, and he finds nothing but permission. Even so, after so long, he still can’t quite believe it. He would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe – or beyond – and, so dammit, he will ask you again.

“C-can I..” he begins, and his voice already sounds choked; hollowed out with need. “Fuck, Princesa, can I kiss you?”

Too long. Too long without moving. Without touching. Too long.

If you were suddenly ready, his kiss becomes even more suddenly overdue.

“You’d better,” you encourage, feeling like vapour. “Unless you want me to do it first.”

With permission granted, you expect him to be on you, with a surge. All at once. But Santi has been patiently waiting for you long enough. He can wait just a little longer, and, when he subtly tips his chin up, ever so slightly, and when he near growls “come here then, honey,” somehow, it is perfect. Somehow, it is a thousand times hotter that he makes you come to him.

You lift the hem of your dress, and you pad delicately towards him, feeling like you are wading through molten honey to get to him, the air thick and sweet.

“That’s it. Come here, baby,” he encourages, with a curl of his index finger beckoning you to him, his voice curling in the pit of you, making you feel weak in the best way possible. Making you feel spent before he’s even done so much as brush you with his hand or his lips.  

You close the remaining distance with your steps, the anticipation too much, and your legs feeling so weak from the reckless lust and the light, liquid softness in his eyes. By this point, you are begging for his arms to reach out and clasp you- to hold you up; make you secure and safe in him. You are begging for his lips to sink down on to yours. But he makes you wait, through a few more slow, stretched moments. Makes you inch your mouth closer and closer until your lips are almost skimming his. He makes you wait until you are moaning his name into the air before he has even touched you.

“Santi.”

And, if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that when you call for him, he is always there to take care of you.

You know he will take care of you.  

With that, his name a plea, he swoops his broad, large hand up until he is holding you, his fingers closing around your jaw and your throat, trailing down your neck. His touch is painfully gentle, but in a way that makes you want him to squeeze, a little harder. In a way that makes you push yourself ever so subtly into his hand. A way that draws a silken moan from deep in your chest, and Santi is moved to dip the pad of his thumb into your mouth, where it meets your wet and willing warmth. When your tongue skims him, humming as you taste his saltiness, that seems to be the final straw, a wrecked groan sounding from his throat, and finally he surges on to your lips, leading with his tongue, thrusting into your open mouth and drinking down every sound and moan he can draw from you, his stubble rough against you. You don’t care if he leaves you raw.

It’s tender, and it’s gentle, but Santi knows all about control, and you can tell he’s holding back. His hands are lethal, and he knows just how to kill you softly; but, you are certain, that if you want more of his power, he’ll give it to you. That he’ll take care of you however you like.

So, he kisses you more deeply, harder, and you go near limp against him until one of his arms wraps at the back of your head and one at the small of your back, making you feel a feeble thing, waning in his arms as his large hands support you. Except; you’re not feeble though. You’re not by a long shot, and you know exactly what you want.

“Santi,” you suspire, letting him walk you back against the wall, pressing his bulging arousal into you as more wrangled sounds and little grunts slip from his parted lips.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, already sounding wrecked for you.

“There’s only one shower. Wanna share?!”

Even as he releases an endlessly eager, disbelieving breath, his eyes keenly search your face, checking you are ready. He watches, enraptured, as your lips curl into a deliciously sinful smile.

“You know. We don’t have to rush this,” he insists, even as he shivers with need, closing his eyes and biting his lip when you angle your hips to brush the tenting bulge at his crotch, ever so fleetingly, his hips bucking into you immediately in pursuit of more pressure.

“I know,” you say coolly, your body an undercurrent of frenzy, but your mind calm and sure. You push him back, with your palms to his chest, making room for you to about-turn into the bathroom, shimmying off your dress as you go and letting it waft to the floor like a sigh. Looking at him over your shoulder, with lust-blown eyes, you leave Santi stood there, entirely dumbfounded, as you reveal all of yourself to him.

You retreat, but once the water is running you call out to him, wondering where he has got to. “Take a hint, Garcia. If you’re ready? I’m waiting.”

And, he doesn’t waste another second before joining you.

THE END

(BONUS: Outfit inspo, if you wanna imagine him in the suits a lil better 😉)

[edie-baby]

Baby Boy Chapter 9 | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (THIS CHAPTER), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

Milana had decided to wear a simple, flowy black dress. As much as she liked dressing sexy and feeling confident, Mila was sure she could wear sweatpants and a hoodie around Lando and still feel confident. Lando had told George to tell Victoria to tell Milana he would pick her up at her room at precisely 7pm. He thought it would be romantic if they left the talking for the date, because knowing how well the two were getting along, they would end up texting all afternoon and ruin the purpose of the actual date.

A knock on the door startled Milana from her daydream, and a smile curled her lips at the thought of Lando being on the other side of the door, ready to take her on their first date. As she swung open the door however, she was met with Max Verstappen with a bouquet of flowers, and Lando Norris with a death glare set to kill. Milana’s eyes widened, she thought between her and Victoria, Max would have gotten the message that their night together (plus Daniel) was a one-time thing. Max took a deep breath, standing in the centre of the doorway while Lando leant his shoulder up against the wall across the hallways, staring Max down.

“Milana, I know we haven’t spoken since that night, but I want to ask you on a proper first date, for us to get to know each other. I wish I could have asked you on a date before we made love, but I can’t turn back the clock, so I am here to be a gentleman and do the right thing.” Max let out. Milana could tell he was nervous, and she felt the guilt creep into her stomach. She didn’t want to completely destroy the poor boy, he was her best friend’s brother, after all. Mila’s eyes flicked to Lando, who seemed to have gotten even better at his glare since she last looked at him thirty seconds ago. His arms were crossed over his chest, and Milana could see the bulging muscles through the button up and sweater he was wearing. Mila tried to communicate to Lando what she was about to do, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the back of Max’s head, which had gotten considerably closer to Milana while she was looking at Lando. She looked back to Max, ready to let him down easy, to suggest a lunch to discuss things, rather than a date night, but he was faster than that, and captured her lips with his. It was completely different to the other night. There was no chemistry, no dynamic between them, no push and pull. Milana broke away, and told Max she would message him later, as she had a date with Lando. The look on the Dutchman’s face as he looked back to the Brit hurt Milana more than she wanted to admit. But she knew she liked Lando. She knew they had the chemistry, and the push and pull of control that she was missing with Max, and she hadn’t even slept with Lando yet.

“Hey, baby boy, please don’t let this ruin our night?” Mila asked, her eyes looking up toward Lando with hope that he couldn’t quash. He nodded, his arm slung over her shoulder as they walked down the hallway of the hotel. She could smell his cologne, it made her feel warm. And he could smell the unmistakable cherry scent he had come to associate with her. Max stood in front of Milana’s room, the bouquet hanging in his hand by his side, pieces of his heart falling in a trail behind Mila.

“What do you think?” Lando asked nervously, his hands wringing together in his lap, the silver ring on his index finger the perfect thing to fidget with. He surveyed Mila’s face as she sat across the table from him. He had spoken to almost every Austrian in the paddock trying to find the best restaurant/place to take Mila for their date.

“It’s perfect. I love it.” Mila assured him, reaching her hand out for one of his. He happily obliged, giving her the hand with the ring slotted onto one of the fingers. The two began talking as they looked over the menu, their hands still in each other’s grasp. Mila’s fingers absentmindedly fiddled with Lando’s ring, and he smiled at the habit they both seemed to have. Lando ordered for the two of them, as surprisingly his German was better than hers. They chatted throughout the meal, the intimate lighting in the restaurant making it hard to make out the colour of the other’s eyes, but it felt special nonetheless.

Their date had gone phenomenally, they had decided they wanted to take a walk after dinner to enjoy the summer night air before returning to the hotel. Lando called for the check, and as the waiter gave the small book to Mila with a wink, his fists clenched. Lando politely asked for the check so he could pay, which she handed over with a wary gaze as his voice was strained and coming out much deeper than his usual tone. At the bottom of the receipt was the phone number of the waiter he was about to pay. The Brit threw cash into the book and stood, pulling Mila’s chair out for her and holding her hand as they left. Mila continued watching Lando, his clenched jaw, his heavy breathing, and his dark eyes. Lando was pissed.

“Hey, look at me.” Mila tried to get his attention, but it didn’t seem to work as the two walked at a fast pace toward the McLaren. Mila sighed softly and tugged against Lando’s hand, her feet stopping in place in the middle of the parking lot.

“Baby boy, please. I want to see your eyes.” Mila whispered, her hands reaching up to brush against Lando’s jaw. His eyes flicked down to hers, and rather than the usual light blue-green, they were stormy, dark, and Mila was sure she could see brown in their depths.

“I’m sorry. Just, first Max and now the waiter. I’m sorry I overreacted, I just like you and I don’t want someone to steal you away before I get the chance to make you like me.” Lando looked down toward the ground, his shy side deciding to make an appearance after a few days without seeing it.

“Do you remember the first thing I said to you?” Mila questioned the sulking 21 year old. Lando nodded with a giggle.

“You told me I was the most gorgeous man you’d laid your eyes on.” Lando giggled more as he finished the sentence. It seemed too far-fetched for him to believe at all. But Mila looked at him seriously, no hint of a laugh or smile on her face.

“I meant what I said, Lando. Truly, I have never seen a person, male, female, or otherwise, that even comes close to possessing the beauty you do. And you don’t have a chance to make me like you. Because I already did from the moment we met.” Mila finished, she had gotten his shoulders, hands and breathing to relax, his face had calmed but his eyes were still so dark. She had even gotten a small smile from him, there weren’t any teeth, but it was an improvement from the raging bull and the kicked puppy.

“Let’s go back to the hotel and watch a movie. I don’t want this to end just yet.” Mila suggested, and Lando nodded again, but Mila had noticed his shoulders were stiff again. She couldn’t figure out what was bothering Lando, but she was going to figure it out and help him, even if it took the rest of her time in Austria.

The drive back was quiet. The radio played calm songs, interspersed with the radio hosts speaking in German, so Mila had nothing to pay attention to other than Lando. His shoulders were stiffer than when they had gotten into the car, his eyes just as dark as when they left the restaurant. His grip on the steering wheel had tightened throughout the 40 minute journey, and Mila was left to speculate why. Had he not liked the way she looked tonight? Without the dramatic makeup and tight clothing, Mila could understand why he would be less than enthusiastic about spending an awful lot of time with her. Her fingers began fiddling with the hem of the dress, as she walked, it brushed the tops of her knees. It was by far the longest dress (other than floor length dresses) that she owned, and she hadn’t worn it once in the three and a half years she had the dress now, as it wasn’t what people were looking for from her.

Lando noticed Mila seeming to shrink in on herself. He took one hand from the steering wheel and grabbed both of hers, effectively stopping the incessant fiddling.

“Mila, what’s wrong doll?” Lando asked, remembering their conversation in which Mila confessed that being called pet names made her feel special. He was saving calling her ‘Love’ for when he knew she would understand he wasn’t just saying it for shits and giggles.

“I’m sorry I don’t look like I normally do. I just feel comfortable and confident enough around you that I don’t have to wear super tight and revealing clothes just to feel like I’m worth something. But I guess that was a mistake, and I’m sorry.” Mila apologised, her hands bunching up the loose fabric of the dress. Lando shook his head in confusion, not quite understanding her point.

“What do you mean you don’t look like you normally do? You look like Mila. You shouldn’t feel like you have to dress a certain way for anyone, especially me. Why do you think it was a mistake?” Lando retorted, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand as she continued to look down. Mila shook her head and looked up at him.

“You’ve been super tense and not really enthusiastic about anything since we sat down at dinner. And then before we got in the car you got all tense again. Is it something I did?” Mila was starting to stress, she ran the entire night through in her head, paying extra attention to moments when Lando seemed most frustrated.

“No, baby, it’s not you. I promise. It’s just me, and I’m overthinking the race, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.” Mila’s heart fluttered when Lando called her baby, the honesty in his voice made Mila relax, but she could still tell there was something else going on.

[outoftheblue-if]

Hi and hope you are doing well😊!I have a suggestion (though not very original):Why don't you start to work on a side/new project alongside OOTB just like some other if authors (like milawrites or arcadia cities)?This way you can have fun working on them and it can help you with writing OOTB too. (P.S:Sorry if this sounds insulting).

Hi there! ✨

Not a bad suggestion, anon! I'm very intrigued by this new project of Mila's, it sounds very interesting 👀 But then she does churn out quality content faster than I could ever dream of 🙏🏻 I don't think I could do what she does.

I do have a lot of ideas for other projects, but at this point I'm genuinely questioning whether I have what it takes to be a writer, and it's nothing to do with a lack of passion for this project, this story and these characters, but more to do with a lack of passion for writing, perhaps? So I'm not sure it would help me to start another project, but if I did, I would definitely just work on it quietly behind the scenes and not announce anything to the world.

I do have fun working on this project when it comes to developing the characters, the plot, the design, and everything else surrounding it, just not the actual writing, at least at the moment. I think the pressure that I put on myself is killing my enjoyment, and I'm struggling a little with the vastness of such an ambitious story (but that's entirely on me, you all are amazing 💋)

This is not at all insulting though! Thank you so much for the suggestion, anon, I really appreciate you trying to help ✨🤎 xx hope you're doing well too!

[bffhreprise]

Best Friend For Hire Reprise, Entry 381

 “Not tired are you?” questioned Ariadne, who had been testing my abilities and helping me understand how to use them for hours.  There were differences between how to accomplish tasks, since Ariadne’s magic needed control of her emotions just as much as clear mental pictures, but her explanations really did help.

 “P-Processing.” I told her, wondering if she actually thought I ever grew tired.  I felt she should know better, considering she knew what I am.  At the moment, I was still revising her first lesson, current lesson, and all of the ones in-between as well as considering some other possibilities for my magic.  I was thankful to know that my weird ability to see other places wasn’t monstrous, since Ariadne could do it too, just not as well.  Part of my mind was still coming to terms with the idea that I had been subconsciously using magic my entire life.  Thankfully, Ariadne didn’t think I had inadvertently hurt anyone.

 “No, Dani, I don’t think you should make requests of Raine quite yet.  Let her keep practicing.” stated James in reply to something Dani had asked in her native tongue.  The musical language of her people was still beyond me without lessons, but a few words seemed to make sense to me.

 “But Daddy!  This would be practice!” she insisted in English.

 James switched to Dani’s native tongue, and Dani’s smile turned impish, a sure sign she had been caught being mischievous again.

 Alma took a few steps over to hug Dani from behind before saying, “Dani, behave.  Birthday girls get to make the requests here.”

 “I… d-don’t mind.” I told them, moving back and forth between where they were talking and where Ariadne was, not wanting Ariadne to think I was ignoring her.  I was aware of the vampire brothers watching me, probably unaccustomed to seeing someone in two different places, but playing with Papak had shown me that they were practically frozen in place compared with me, just like everyone else.

 Meanwhile, Ariadne was telling me about tricks she had discovered over the years to quickly diagnose health problems in different types of creatures.  I doubted some of the tricks would work quite as well for me, not having a couple thousand years of experience in recognizing different types of cellular damage, but she seemed confident that I’d get the hang of it.

 James was staring at Dani, whose smile only grew.

 “A playmate for Alberich!” she suggested, finally letting us know what she wanted.

 Alma sighed before saying, “She probably shouldn’t attempt life yet.”

 “Is that really possible?” questioned Maple.

 “Of course, though creating life takes far more energy than you’d probably expect.” replied Ariadne, having finally reached them.  “I certainly can’t recommend doing it until Raine is very confident in her abilities.  Getting something slightly off is very easy and potentially lethal for the new creature.”

 “What about creating an enhancement suit for Pufflewink?” suggested James, obviously thinking that Pufflewink could keep up that way.

 For several seconds, I considered different modifications to the suits, considering how cute they could look.  While considering cuteness, I also considered whether or not Pufflewink would feel comfortable.  Like all kitties, Pufflewink liked warmth, and the suits were designed to ensure a certain level of warmth.  Everyone else had adapted to the feel fairly quickly, so I imagined Pufflewink might as well.  After letting myself enjoy numerous scenarios of my kitty playing around in her new suit, I double-checked a rather important part of this idea, asking “I c-can?”

 James nodded, saying, “As long as Jarod doesn’t mind.”

 “That’s an awesome idea, man-slave!” insisted Emma, grinning broadly.

 “I’ll admit that I’m intrigued to see what spells go into these things.” commented Vito eagerly.

 “Suit design is a trade secret, so no giving it away to anyone.” stated Jarod loudly to be heard over everyone.  “Mila, would you mind adjusting the design for felines?”

 “Already optimizing the fiber configuration.” she replied, sounding amused.  “Master, mind if we borrow your office briefly?”

 “Feel free.  Raine, I think she wants you upstairs.” encouraged James, smiling as well.

 I nodded to him, and then went into the office.  Quest gladly accepted!  At the speed of Mila, the entire room transformed into screens for me to inspect with additional screens forming up from the tiny ball things that came out of the floor.  Everything from molecular composition of the substances involved to the details on how James’ spells interacted with the physical form were on display.

 Downstairs, James was commenting to Jarod “I hope you know that she’ll never forget the designs.”

 Jarod grinned broadly.  “And I hope you realize that I have many, many plans that could use her aid.”  He was doing his villain act again.  On one hand, he really was good at looking like an evil mastermind.  On the other hand, he was a good person and wouldn’t actually attempt anything evil.

 In the free time I had between taking in the different screens, I considered if I was really capable of meeting Jarod’s expectations.  Yes, I was learning to use my magic, but I didn’t have anywhere near Ariadne’s level of mastery.  Sure, the best way to get there was practicing, but what if I oopsed again?  Energy research could be dangerous.  Would I be able to contain things?  Maybe Jarod wanted safer experiments first…  He’d listen if I told him I wasn’t ready for anything dangerous, right?  More scenarios erupted in my mind, but I didn’t have faith in them.  Jarod was very nice, but he could also be a little… obsessive.

 “If she comes back with a finished suit, I’ll be most disappointed.” stated Vito with a frown.

 “No need to be disappointed.  I’ll gladly show you the spell.” James told him.  “I just ask that you don’t utilize it for your kind yet.”  When Vito nodded his agreement, James created his spell.

 For once, I really studied what went into the spell, committing the entire arrangement of energy to memory.  Though I didn’t have confidence in duplicating such effects with my own magic yet, I could arrange residual energy, just like the others.  Mila was already showing me modifications to the spell on some of the screens, having shown me a 3D model of it already.

 Emma sighed and said, “You guys really know how to bring down a party.”

 “We’re partying?” questioned Noelle, seeming to have forgotten the conical hat on her head.  She was so adorable, and I wondered what she was showing the others.  Sadly, her magic couldn’t affect me through my own magic, so I couldn’t see.

 “Yes.  Today’s Raine’s birthday.” replied Dejon with a patient smile.  He had been working with her lately.

 I mentally danced through the room I had already prepared for them as a couple, in hopes of them dating.  He liked her, paying far more attention to her than he had paid attention to anyone else, and she certainly seemed interested whenever she looked at him.  I put the new memory of them together in goofy party hats up on a shelf, admiring it.

 Noelle’s eyes brightened, happy as ever.  “I should tell her Happy Birthday!”

 I mentally thanked her again, adding another tally in my mind’s personal room for her under the times she wished me a happy birthday today as I continued studying and connecting all of the pieces Mila was feeding me.

 “She’s off making something for her cat at the moment.” explained Dejon.

 “She has a cat!?  I love cats!” she exclaimed excitedly.

 There was a whole section of Noelle’s private room in my mind dedicated to her playing with Pufflewink.  The adorableness delighted me.

 “Me too!” exclaimed Kayla, lifting up Alberich, who had been leaning against Alma’s leg for the past minute.

 Alberich was a very proud, very small lion, but he didn’t swipe at Kayla this time.  Through our chats, I had learned that Alma spoiled him far too much when he was young, which was probably why he could be a bit snooty.  Luckily, even Alberich found Noelle cute, affected by her magic just like most everyone else—poor James didn’t know what he was missing.  When Noelle pet him, I could imagine how easily Alberich recognized her delight.

 Not long after Noelle and Kayla started playing with Alberich, Mila informed everyone that I would be indisposed for several more minutes—she could only show me things so fast.  I would also need some time to practice before I would be satisfied.  Everyone but me went to the ballroom to dance instead of gaming for once.  There were more cat-themed party decorations in there, and I was determined to join them soon.

 After I finished the material that Mila had for me, I started asking her questions and was surprised to find she liked my ideas for a few modifications in the suit.  She had originally assumed that I would simply remove the suit whenever Pufflewink wanted to go potty, but agreed with me when I pointed out that my little kitty would probably get disoriented by the sudden loss of enhancements more than our friends did.  With a bit of work, we came up with some alterations that should work, and Mila found some additional cleaning spells she felt would be better suited for cats.  Four-hundred-and-seventy-two variations later, Mila and I were satisfied that we had a suit Pufflewink would like, so I fetched her and created the suit around her.

 The difference was notable as soon as I saw my little kitty move.  She was confused, but I talked to her and warned her she’d need to be a little more careful.  Mila insisted the difference in strength and speed was considerable, so I took her word for it.  Satisfied that Pufflewink was happy, I took her down to join the others, dancing along with her in my arms.

 Mila felt the need to stick a spotlight on me the moment I arrived, but I didn’t mind.  James and Alma came over to examine the suit.

 “Were you successful?” he asked.

 “M-Maybe.” I replied, not as confident as Mila.

 He grinned as he said, “We should test it later before Alberich and Pufflewink play too much together.”

 I nodded in agreement.  Pufflewink would need more time to adjust to her new abilities.  “I-I should… visit… with… Ariadne.” I told him after considering a number of scenarios where Ariadne examined my kitty to make sure the enhancement suit was agreeing with her.

 When James and Alma moved to hug me, I was surprised, but I only considered dodging for a very brief moment.  I did like hugs, and neither of them would accidentally squeeze Pufflewink too hard.

 “I hope you’re having a wonderful birthday, Raine.” stated James as he hugged me.

 I nodded and smiled at my friends, telling them “B-Best ever.”

 “No.” stated James, making me consider what was wrong.  He then clarified “We plan to make each one better.”

 I probably stared at him too long when he said that and nearly let myself cry.  James was such a kind, wonderful person, and I would be grateful to him forever.  I was certain he underestimated how much he had done for me—modest as he was—but giving me a home where I am accepted, despite what I am, was already the best present I could receive in a lifetime.