#nervous! what if i accidentally wrote paragraphs of paragraphs just exactly like someone else and its plagiarism? (literally impossible)

[tchaikovskym]

just uploaded my thesis!!!! yeehaw your girl is one defense away from mastering biology

[novelconcepts]

Jamie & Dani short prompt- Online Dating au meeting online and being from bad past relationship. Thank u

This is probably a bad idea. It is, isn’t it? Almost certainly.

Why is she here?

Dani Clayton has been playing this particular set of thoughts--bad idea, terrible idea, why would you do this?--on repeat for three days. Ever since setting up that dating profile. Ever since realizing there isn’t much use in setting up a dating profile if you’re not going to use it. 

Oh, it’s all fun and games, building the thing. Find a photo that accentuates all the best parts of your face--Dani, after an hour of careful consideration, wound up going with one that accentuated her hair, more than anything, but she suspects the same idea counts. Then, the profile. What do you like? Teaching, long walks, new experiences, bad coffee. What don’t you like? 

Men, she’d thought, and snorted aloud into her wine before settling on: Deep water, accordion music, expectations, being called Danielle. 

A little more flourish, tipsy keystrokes, a casually-framed short-version of her life. Perfect. And then...well, then you hit the publish button, don’t you? You decide, for better or worse, to jump off this diving board and see just how far you can stand to swim before the energy gives out on you.

The faces appearing before her hadn’t been bad, certainly. Pretty, most of them. Interesting, a few. Still, she hadn’t swiped right on any--once or twice, because she’d forgotten which way meant yes please, but mostly because no one seemed quite...right. Which, she’d thought, was silly. The whole point of an app like this is to cast as many nets as possible and see what comes up. The whole point is to have fun. 

But every time she’d hovered over a promising image, a woman who likes dogs, or plays the violin, or goes rock-climbing in her spare time, she’d thought of him. Eddie. Who had taken one yes to a single date, and tried to make a whole life with her out of it. 

Eddie, who had taken her two decades to pull away from. 

What if the women here were the same? Not Eddie, exactly, but--presumptive. What if they believed a swipe-right was as good as a marriage proposal? What if she got bound up in conversation, and then a date, and then a relationship with someone else who just didn’t fit right?

Left. Left. Left. 

And then: the mistake.

She hadn’t meant to swipe right. Exactly. She hadn’t planned, maybe is the better way of putting it, on swiping right. She’d only wanted to look at the woman’s profile a little longer. Only wanted to inspect the facets this woman had put out on display with almost resigned simplicity. 

Some people, Dani had by now realized, wrote poetry and paragraphs to describe themselves. 

Jamie Taylor had bullet points.

“Gardener. English. Likes: Plants. Stories. Tea. Dislikes: Bullshit.”

The end. That had been quite literally the sum of it. Gardener. English. No bullshit.

But the picture, somehow, Dani hadn’t been able to look away from. Not because of carefully-arranged lighting, not because of a curated model-clean image--but because the woman appeared to have posted the photo almost under duress. It came in profile, as though someone else had done the job, her head turned toward the camera as if interrupted. Her hands were buried in a flower pot. Her clothes were simple--a tank top, a silver chain resting against the jut of collarbones, a pair of worn-looking jeans with holes in the knees. Her eyes--some fascinating color Dani couldn’t quite place--looked somewhere between amused and irritated. 

She looked real. 

Stupid, Dani thinks now--because that was probably the idea, wasn’t it? This woman, Jamie, had planned to look exactly this way. Real. Vexed at the idea of putting herself out there. Reluctantly available. 

It was a ploy, certainly--but one that seems to be working, because not only did Dani accidentally-not-accidentally swipe right, she found herself texting the woman. For hours. She’d expected much less, had figured this Jamie person would be as brief in text as she had been in bio, but...

Jamie had talked to her. Willingly. Teasingly, with more humor than truth, maybe, but with no sign at all that she was sick of Dani’s questions, bad jokes, nervous assessment that I really don’t do this, I honestly don’t get it. 

I don’t, either, Jamie had replied, and that had felt like enough of a reason to keep testing the waters. Enough of a reason to keep the conversation going back and forth, back and forth, until nearly two in the morning.

Shit, she’d said. I need to be at work in four hours. 

Shame, Jamie had replied, her tone already searingly familiar over text. Own your own business, make your own hours. Far wiser approach. 

I’ll make a note of it for when I found an elementary school, Dani had replied, laughing. She hadn’t said she’d already been in bed for an hour, the phone resting on the pillow beside her head so she wouldn’t miss the buzz of a new message. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, with wine-warmed blood and the happy haze of good conversation. Jamie made her laugh. Jamie put her at ease. Jamie might not have been real, but she felt real, and that was good. 

Better than anything she’d felt in years, if she was honest with herself. 

Still, when the next day had come and gone with no message, she’d thought, Fair enough. Jamie had been good virtual company for one night. It was more than she’d expected to get out of this app.

Far more than she’d expected, particularly when Thursday night rolled around and her phone buzzed.

Teacher, yeah? No school on Saturday?

Correct, Dani had replied, as amused by the out-of-left-field text as she was irritated with how her stomach had flipped over upon receiving it. You have figured out the complexity of the American school system. 

I am a genius, Jamie sent back, followed quickly by: Drinks tomorrow night? 

Drinks. A thing that people do. A thing that adult people do for date reasons. 

She isn’t real, she’d thought, even as her thumb was punching back: How’s 8? Miller’s?

A mistake. Definitely a mistake. Because the app had been a lark, and the conversation had been too easy, and the fact that she can’t quite pick out the colors in Jamie’s eyes from a single photo is making her crazier than she’d like to admit. 

A mistake, saying yes. A mistake, suggesting the local pub-like establishment around the corner, whose beer-and-burger specials had kept her fed on too many evenings spent working late. A mistake, because once this goes south--as it’s absolutely bound to, as everything Eddie-shaped always has--she’s going to lose her favorite hangout in the deal, too.

And yet: here she is. Standing at the door, wondering if the outfit chosen for the evening festivities--tight jeans, pink blouse, hoop earrings--is too much or not nearly enough. 

What am I doing here?

Maybe, she thinks with mingled alarm and hope, she won’t even have showed up. Maybe it’s all part of the ruse: look approachable, look human and normal, look a little too beautiful in the most grounded way possible--then, cheerfully, invite a woman to drinks and just don’t show. A fun story for whoever comes next. Can you believe she thought I’d want to meet her after one night of texting?

“Dani?” 

English, Dani thinks with a sudden rush of heat. Right. Somehow, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the accent, which--coming out of this woman, draped with languid ease at a table--is truly a little more than Dani thinks she can handle just now. The accent, combined with the mess of curls dragged back from her face, and a dress sense that manages to be both casual and deeply attractive at the same time, is...

“Jamie,” she says, her voice a little lower, a little more hoarse, than is truly necessary. The woman pushes up from her seat, a small-framed figure in a black button-down, suspenders, ripped jeans. She’s pressing a hand toward Dani, offering a firm shake as though they are business partners, not an off-the-cuff bad idea of a date. “You look--”

“Never been here before,” Jamie says, almost apologetically. She gestures for Dani to sit before dropping back down in a sprawl that implies exactly the opposite of what her mouth is insisting. “Wasn’t sure about the, ah, dress code.”

“You--you did fine,” Dani tells her, wishing suddenly she’d gone for a dress. Or a  different human body altogether. She feels too tightly-strung, too anxious for the easy smile on Jamie’s lips. “Um. You’re very. In person.”

“Very,” Jamie repeats, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Is very American for wish I’d gone left, after all?”

“No. No. Absolutely not. That.” Bit too forceful, she suspects, judging by the smile spreading into a grin. “No, it’s just--your picture didn’t--tell me you’d be so...”

“Clean?” Jamie suggests innocently. She raises her hands, wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Scrub up fine, when I need to. Seemed to call for it.”

“And you...sure did answer,” Dani says stupidly. “The. Call, I mean. I’m sorry, I really don’t do this often.”

Something seems to soften in Jamie, her smile less teasing as she leans across the table. “Hey, no worries here. Same person you were talking to the other night.”

Dani nods, embarrassed, and flags down a server. Drinks ordered, she draws in a deep breath.

“I mean, I haven’t done this in years. Or. Ever, I guess.”

“A first date?” Jamie asks. When Dani doesn’t answer, she adds in a knowing tone, “A date with a woman?”

“Both,” Dani says honestly. “My last relationship was--well, I mean, we were engaged--”

Jamie whistles under her breath, reaching up to scratch her head. “Blimey. What happened?”

“He’s...him.” It’s too much to go into on a first date, too much to explain, even though talking to Jamie over text had been so dangerously easy. “My best friend growing up, but that was...growing up.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, tilting her chin in thanks when the server deposits two full pint glasses and a basket of fries on the table. “Rough time, sounds like. I can relate. My last relationship also did not go well.”

“Was he also a man who thought you’d be all too happy to quit your job and take care of a bunch of babies?” Dani asks, perhaps a little too bitterly for the occasion. Jamie flashes another grin, sipping her drink.

“She was a woman who thought I’d be all too happy to take the fall when she got busted for possession.”

Dani gapes. “Oh. Oh--I didn’t know--I’m so--”

Jamie shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong. I was nineteen, and deeply stupid. Live and learn, as the poets say.”

“Which poets?” Dani asks, smiling a little. Jamie’s brow furrows.

“John...Lennon, possibly? Hard to say. Anyway, relationships are a chore and a half, but the greatest people in the world tell me thirty is too old to play musical bedframes, so. Here we are.”

No bullshit, thinks Dani approvingly. For what little she’d put into her profile, Jamie evidently hadn’t been lying about that.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since you were nineteen?”

“In my mind, I was still in the relationship at twenty-four, when they let me out. She didn’t agree. Found out she’d been married two years, by then.” Something darkens in Jamie’s eyes for a moment. She sighs. “Like I said. Not my finest. But I am, as they say, a shining beacon of reform these days.”

“Now, when you say they,” Dani teases, grinning. Jamie nods decisively. 

“John Lennon. Definitively.”

There it is, thinks Dani, watching Jamie pop a fry into her mouth. There, the easy roll of conversation from the other night. As though they’ve known each other forever. As though two people who have thus far failed irrevocably at relationships make a perfect match.

Easy, she thinks. Don’t go wild, now. 

“So,” she says, when the comfortable silence between them has grown a bit too comfortable for the setting, “who are the greatest people in the world? The ones who tell you thirty is too old for...did you say musical bedframes?”

Jamie laughs. The ring of it curls gently around Dani’s head like a soft hand, a sound she’ll find herself replaying later with a skipping heart. 

“Not many willing to put up with a grump of my caliber, but Hannah and Owen fight the good fight. So long as I at least pretend to try.”

“Let me guess. They set up the account for you?”

Jamie makes a sort of gesture in the air with the hand not holding her glass. “Threatened to bury me in puns and children, respectively, if I kept putting it off. Owen’s still grumpy about the photo choice.”

“I liked it,” Dani says without thinking. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you did swipe as much. Mind if I ask why?”

Walked into this one. Still, she doesn’t mind as much as she probably should, not with the genuine curiosity in Jamie’s eyes. “You looked--don’t laugh.”

“No promises,” Jamie says, but with the gentle tone of one who knows exactly how much to tease before it’ll hurt. The idea warms Dani in a way she’s not quite ready to look at yet.

“You looked real,” Dani says. “Like you weren’t going to play games, or waste anyone’s time. Like you just wanted to be happy in peace.”

“That is,” Jamie says, holding out a fry for Dani to take, “sort of the idea, yeah.”

There’s an almost puzzled cast to her smile, like she didn’t entirely expect this answer, and is pleased by it at the same time. That same sense from the photo sweeps over Dani now--that this woman is authentic, even if she’s not always shiny, that she’s kind even if not entirely clean. That she doesn’t have any interest in muddled expectation or living a comfortable lie.

“And me?” Dani asks. She doesn’t entirely mean to--but she’s sure, in asking, that Jamie will answer. Jamie is unlike anyone else she’s ever met, the first person she’s ever known to meet each question head-on. 

“Honestly?”

Dani nods. Jamie seems to consider it, turning it over in her head as she twists a fry between her fingers like a cigarette. 

“All of it.”

“That’s,” Dani begins to laugh, “that’s not--”

“No,” Jamie says, and she isn’t smiling, exactly. Her eyes have a sort of shine Dani likes very much, but there is no hint of teasing in them now. “Really. All of it. You’re...very pretty, and that’s--but the way you described yourself. Like you didn’t care to be anyone in particular. You like new experiences, and bad coffee. You hate being called Danielle. I...I wanted to know why.”

“It’s not my name,” Dani says simply. Jamie gives a brief laugh, her hand moving across the table to lightly brush Dani’s fingertips. 

“I wanted to know why all of it. Why do you like bad coffee--”

“It’s the only kind I know how to make,” Dani says automatically. “Just sort of leaned into it.”

“--and teaching--”

“I want to make a difference,” Dani says. 

“--and where you most like to go on those long walks--”

“Anywhere I can breathe,” Dani says. Her fingers are hesitant, tracing the tips of Jamie’s. There’s something electric about this, about barely touching, about barely knowing someone and still wanting to give them neatly-packaged secrets shaped like the mundane. 

Jamie is smiling. “See, that. I like that. All of it.”

It’s nothing, Dani thinks reflexively. A collection of details. A sparse approximation of a life. Eddie knows all of this, and then some, and never matched up to knowing her.

But this woman, leaning across the table with one hand outstretched, looks so different. Watches her with steady interest. Is listening to every word Dani says, though the bar is growing crowded around them, and soon, conversation will become a task instead of a gift.

“Would you,” Dani says, feeling certain that some mistakes are not as bad as they seem, “like to take one of those walks?”

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah. Tonight.” Emboldened by the smile, by the curl falling into Jamie’s eyes, by the knowledge that she still can’t quite make out what color those eyes are, Dani takes her hand. It’s so easy, she thinks she could do it even without looking. “Right now.”

No bullshit, she thinks. No expectations. Just Jamie looking at her like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Dani can’t blame her. This isn’t at all what she’d thought she was getting, walking in tonight. 

But there’s something about it--something about the feeling that she’s been here before, or should be here forever, or will always find her way back to a woman who looks at her just like this--that almost makes her feel brave. Almost makes her feel wonderful. She rises from the table, laying cash beneath her half-empty glass, and feels a pleasant jolt in her chest when Jamie follows without another word.

If this a mistake, she thinks as they step out into the brisk evening air, it’s one she’s hungry to make. 

[capri-ramblings]

Hi may I please ask for headcanons or scenarios for yandere dorm leaders (separate) reactions seeing hacking their darling hacking into their phone, only to find out she accidentally sent (Grim: she butt dialed) them a voice message herself singing about her feelings for them and wishing they return her feelings one day.

I am so sorry this came up so late 😔 if you realized the pattern I've been trying to push up the earliest of my asks but god, my brain isn't cooperating but I really am giving my all to finish all my requests! I just got my first two anons too 😭💖 I really don't deserve any of your support but I am grateful! ����💖 I'm also sorry that this ask in particular doesn't seem to have a balanced amount of paragraphs, I wrote it half asleep and after I cried cause one of our kittens passed today but it's okay I slept over Black Butler's Lacrimosa 👍🏻

Riddle Rosehearts

- Riddle's in a daze. The screen of his phone reflecting the soft hue of grey muddling in his eyes as he stared at the messages you sent him along with the voice note.

- ["I'm sorry, Riddle! It was an accident!"]

- You were referring to the voice note attached earlier, the one with you singing a song written especially for him to express your feelings. For him.

- An accident? Riddle doesn't see it that way. Not at all. In fact, he knows you did it on purpose. You wanted to send it to him and you only made it seem like it was an accident.

- It's adorable really. He doesn't know what to do or say. His eyes are transfixed onto the name on his screen. Your name. His budding flower.

- You love him. That's what you said. How can that be an accident? This was fate.

- You were meant to be his just as he was meant to be yours.

- Your little stunt placed a delusional spell on the young dorm head and maybe you should've taken more caution in your actions.

- Because now you've placed his heart on a platter.

- And dear, if you stab and wound it, there's a heavy price on your head.

Vil Schoenheit

- Stunning. You sounded so, exquisitely stunning.

- Even after he stopped replaying the voice note you'd sent him, Vil could still hear your voice humming in his head as if you placed a spell on his very senses.

- He's always known you kept your feelings for him to yourself and who could blame you? He was The Vil Schoenheit, the Poisonous Beauty of Night Raven. Anyone with eyes would understand your falling, oh but, he didn't care about anyone else did he?

- Vil's been pining over you ever since you two met. He didn't know what exactly appealed to him, but the way you stirred such vehement emotions in him with just a single smile, had him addicted to you.

- The rush of having someone as equally intoxicating as him by his side... There were times he'd admit he wanted to snatch you away from everyone else.

- That light you carried with you, Vil wanted it for himself.

- And now, he does. Doesn't he? You've just confessed your feelings for him and through a song nonetheless!

- How could he deny you now?

- Even if you claim it was an accident and that you never meant to send it to him in the first place, Vil won't let this chance go to waste.

- He'll have you, with or without your approval.

Kalim Al-Asim

- He bursts out laughing after the nervous sound of your voice through the voice note ended.

- Kalim laid sprawled onto his bed, one hand placed over his eyes as his chest heaved into a cacophony of amusement.

- "I love you"

- That's what you said,right? He wasn't just imagining the whole thing?

- When Jamil came into the room, questioning him on why he was laughing like a maniac, Kalim immediately leapt away from his bed and pressed play on the voice note.

- "Jamil, Jamil! You hear it too,don't you? This song?"

- Jamil recognized the voice as yours off the bat, but instead of commenting on it, he nodded his head and Kalim tackled him to the ground with a hug that seemed able to break him in half.

- "K-Kalim...!"

- "Hahahaha! It's real! It's real! The song is real!"

- Kalim is elated. Filled to the brim with a sickly, twisted euphoria, and it's all because of you.

- "She loves me,Jamil! She loves me!"

- He's not bothered by the fact that Jamil is narrowing his gaze and scrutinizing him with a glare, all he can think of is how to respond to this confession. How to tell you that he's also deeply in love with you. Infatuated really. Gods, Kalim would burn a thousand kingdoms in your name. Didn't you know that? How can he possibly make you understand? He doesn't know,his mind is racing with thoughts of you. But he'll find a way. He will,he has to.

- "I'll make her my wife!" Kalim exclaimed, "That's the only right way,right Jamil?"

- He doesn't give his friend a chance to reply, rushing towards the door as his thoughts carry him into another kind of world.

- Kalim can't even hear Jamil trailing after him,the dark haired male's expression beyond worried.

Idia Shroud

- Idia thinks it's all just a dream,really.

- He thinks it's a dream hearing you say his name repeatedly along with the words "I love you" in front of it.

- He's looking at his phone like he's never seen the thing at all, but something darker lurks behind his gaze

- Before he even realizes it,Idia's lips are stretched into this twisted grin, the reins of his obsession running loose.

- It isn't a dream. Is it? This is all real.

- He knows now because you're typing, frantically trying to tell him it was an accident that you sent a voice note with you singing your confession to him.

- Why would anyone scramble with their own words like that if it wasn't real?

- Idia's heart is racing but so are his thoughts and so is the spurring desire within him.

- Did you even know how much he held back for your sake? All the times he could've had you to himself.

- But now look at you. Scurrying your way into the deepest corner of his heart, and you think he's going to let you go?

- Oh, sweetheart. You're his eternal Spring why would he let you go now?

Azul Ashengrotto

- Azul is speechless. The screen of his phone the only light illuminating his reality.

- He keeps flickering his gaze back to your name then to the voice note he didn't dare to replay. The amount of pressure it gave him then made it feel that he'd revert back to his Mer-form.

- He's been longing to hear those words leave your lips for so long after all. Seeing how you were always so stubborn around him.

- This was truly a gift and who knew the one to grant him that was none other than you?

- Azul never believed in fate. But maybe...just maybe it does exist and maybe the world is giving him the chance to fulfill it

- He's over the moon until another message pops in and now you're telling him it was an accident.

- How could something like this be accidental? No. You're just being your stubborn self again.

- The way your voice sang those words to him...No one could ever pull something as genuine as that except for you.

- So,no,Azul doesn't believe it was an accident but he tells you he does anyway because he understands how overwhelming this was for you.

- He's so generous after all,right? He'll plan out something perfect in the end and then you'll finally be his.

Malleus Draconia

- Malleus thinks you're adorable.

- Even when you're babbling on your words,trying to tell him the voice note you sent him was all an accident.

- He's not really listening. Malleus is just dazed and flattered that someone would write a song for him, and that someone being you just hits the mark really.

- You're throwing your hands in the air, gesturing wildly as your cheeks flush red and Malleus is barely convinced.

- He knows you meant to send it in,sure maybe not today in particular,but it was saved and promised for later.

- But why such the long wait? Why didn't you gave it to him sooner? He doesn't know but it doesn't matter.

- He has you in front of him now.

- You're wondering why his eyes seem so dull and glazed over, hoping your little accident didn't make anything weird between you two.

- Oh,if only you knew the beast you just awakened.

Leona Kingscholar

- Leona isn't delusional,so when he sees the message you sent him after the voice note telling him it was an accident,he believes it.

- But that doesn't mean he's not going to use it as an advantage though.

- You just sang your heart out for him, calling him your king.

- What kind of idiot would let this moment go to waste?

-Leona has always been possessive of you and now that he knows you felt strongly about him,he's not going to let you go.

- His primal instincts are practically kicked alive and even if he has to hunt you down, you will be his.

- He doesn't even read you other messages. He needs a lot of rest for the plan he has in mind.

[a-robin-among-thorns]

In The Shadows of the Rising Sun: Chp 9

Chapters 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8

Once again so sorry for the delay on the chapter its been really crazy on my end. My sister had a baby, I got a new job and just the holiday to name a few ^^;

Chapter 9: Alone Together

Word Count: 2,210

Chise was hasty but diligent as she checked the apartment’s vacancy, silently thankful for the absurd lengths her cousin stretches out her business ventures. Seconds after the door clicks shut Elias emerged from the shadows in a rush and Chise sighed in relief. Although he had been present all day his long bony face is a sight for sore eyes. The sentiment was one he evidently shared for as soon as he was solid again he cupped her cheek in his right palm in almost reverent gentleness. He echoed her sigh, his breath sweeping over her red face in a rush, fanning the tips of her hair between his fingers.

It was so strange to be so sure that his feelings were exactly the same as hers. She blinked slowly, caught in the moment and hypnotized by his earnest gaze. The pads of his fingers fit in the curves of her jaw like she had done when she awoke beside him. She absently wondered if he recalled the action from his subconscious.

Belatedly, Chise pursed her lips and gripped her book bag tighter. If she wanted any hope of finishing her three days of math, not to mention her other subjects, she would have to start soon.

Her books spilled across the coffee table in a series of dull thuds. Fortunately, both science and history were reading assignments and the professors would never call on her if their lives depended on it. English was similar, translate and transcribe a paragraph of your choice from the provided kabuki play passages from hiragana to informal English. She normally dreaded this process, but her past days of constant English moved the work from a sluggish crawl to a leisurely walk.

All the while Elias hung just to the side of her. Although he sat corporally, he took the role of her shadow, all the same. Entranced in her movements eyes following where she goes, silent but ever-present.

Once the last character was redrawn as a letter she grumbled knowing it could be ignored no longer. Consulting her yellow sticky note, Chise split open the algebra textbook and set to work.

The process was slow and grueling. Finicky obnoxious measurements slowly scratched out to produce something that looked like effort went into it. She hated math on the best of days, this stupid fake math that can’t even be bothered to use numbers makes her want to pop a vein. But something about this assignment, aside from its extended length, grated at her nerves.

When it came down to it no matter how hard she would work on this assignment she would never understand it. She would work stressfully for several extra hours and receive a grade only slightly less abysmal than if she turned in nothing. It felt so pointless to toil and struggle for someone who wouldn’t pay her a passing glance. Who acted disgusted when she asked for help.

A hot gruff groan built in her chest and slipped through ground teeth, burning her nostrils. Distractedly she adjusted her bangs harshly and repositioned against the coffee table. In her shuffling, she didn’t hear Elias shuffle closer, peering over her shoulder. She jumped slightly when his hand slipped past her, the plum pad of his finger landing in between the unknown X and a pair of parenthesis.

“This one needs to be applied to all of the numbers inside the curves. It’s not a number, but it can still act like one.” He said simply. No trace of judgment or impatience could be found in his voice.

Her eyes followed his hand as he retracted. When their faces fell on each other he made a small nod in gentle urging. Her gaze returned to the paper. It couldn’t hurt. Slowly she applied his suggestion, more came as she worked, and the picture became clearer and clearer.

“Don’t forget to add and subtract this value because there are two possible answers.” She did just that and wrote out what had to be the closest thing to a properly done solution she had ever written. Another sigh spilled out, not of frustration but relief.

She leaned back on her elbow to look up at him fondly. “How do you understand math so well?”

His eyes crinkled in that glowing smile she had come to recognize. “When working with the fae, especially finicky ones, one must understand proportions and numbers. Even across different understandings. Many humans have met their end by accidentally slighting a proud spirit.” She chuckled at this, the absurd image of a faerie angrily stabbing at a calculator coming to mind.

As they worked together the heat of her frustration subsided. Her jaw relaxed and her breathing became less forced as her effort no longer felt futile. One after one they marked off the assigned problems until all 30 questions have a line struck through them.

The textbook closed with a satisfying thump as she brought the halves together like a grateful prayer. “Thank you for helping me. I couldn’t have done that on my own.”

His head tilted, “What have you done then?”

She shrugged, “I just turn in the best I can figure out.”

Elias looked back to the book between her hands. “And your teacher does nothing if you haven’t learned it?” He questioned.

“Pretty much.”

He was quiet at this looking pensive. As Chise began to put her work away the English assignment caught her eye reminding her of their conversation at lunch. “Would you like to look at this assignment with me? I can start teaching you Japanese.”

How could someone incapable of moving their face smile so plainly? “I would like that.”

He resettled again as she fished out the dictionary. “It’ll kind of be working backwards,” she mused aloud realizing the difficulty laid in front of her. “I’m probably not a very good teacher.” She admitted sheepishly.

“Any teacher is better than nothing.” He pauses, “Better than the teachers you have by the sound of it.” Chise stuttered unsure what to say when her attention snapped to the door and her heart stopped.

Tapping heels resounded through her eardrums like bass drums. In their shuffling the rattling of keys had been lost. Reina fidgetted through her purse and Chise and Elias were petrified as she looked up to the living room. Then back down at her purse.

She frowned and looked up again to Chise alone. She blinked in bewilderment looking to and fro as she skeptically walked forward. The frown on Reina’s face wanted to set in deep but her face was too confused to do so. “Were you...talking with someone? I could have sworn I heard…”

“I was just reciting my English,” Chise interjected forcing the most natural tone she could muster, “we have to read our translation aloud in class.”

Her cousin’s dark red lips pressed together disdainfully as her eyes searched the room. But nothing was disturbed, no exit could be that quick. And there is nowhere to hide in the barren apartment.

“Is...something wrong?” Chise probed in hopes of invoking her pride.

Reina’s posture realigned, regaining its commanding indifference as she unknowingly swallowed the bait. “No everything is fine.” She turned on her heels to place her purse on the kitchen counter. With her back turned, Chise steadily relaxed against the coffee table and stretched her fingers flat against the carpet. A warm shifting murmured against her palm, seeping between her digits.

“You spent a lot more than normal.” Reina’s sharp probing drew her out of the private moment. From the counter she stood with the remaining bills in hand, eyeing the child in her care like a hawk.

“I-i,” Chise gulped, mentally fumbling to come up with an explanation. “S-since it was my birthday Saturday I wanted to get something a little special.” Chise stutters, “Is that ok.”

Her predatory stare breaks as she blinks in realization. That had been this weekend, hadn’t it? “Um yeah, I guess.” She adds under her breath, “saves me from having to get a present.”

When Reina finally settled along the coffee table with takeout curry in hand, Chise felt as though she had lived through five separate heart attacks.

She was somewhat nauseous from the continuous back and forths but partook of her curry all the same. A few spoonfuls of spicy rice made the flip-flopping in her belly cease very quickly. The savory flavors danced on her tongue as she actually tasted a meal she should have been well familiar with. Although she would have happily devoured the entire container, a slight shift of her left hand reminds her to stop halfway.

As impatient an eater as she is everything else, Reina finished her rice soon after Chise and moved to throw away their containers.

Like a started rabbit Chise flung forward to guard her bowl from Reina’s grip, blocking her fingers from the plastic rim. Her brain catches up with her body as she slowly met her cousin’s eyes. Wide eyes narrowed like a bow pulled taunt, aimed at its kill. “What are you-“

“I was just wanting to save it for later,” Chise blurted, “maybe for breakfast.” She strained under the probing glare until Reina huffed and rolled her eyes. “Sure, that’s fine.” She sharply plucked her own bowl, standing in a fluid motion where Chise lay in her line of sight all the long way from the table to the trash. The timid clicking of the top and bottom of her plastic bowl resounded in the apartment as Chise watched Reina retire to her bedroom.

An eternity after Reina sealed herself in her bedroom the light under her doorway finally extinguished. A smaller eternity later, during which Chise showered and readied for bed, Elias had still not emerged from the shadows. From her futon, she ran her fingers all through the carpet. They met no resistance.  

Suddenly nervous, Chise looked over her shadow. No red lights.

Her throat constricts in anxiety. Her mouth suddenly very dry, she croaked out quietly, “Elias?” Nothing.

She sat up like a shot, searching frantically. Red hair whipped from side to side before swishing toward the small hallway. A thicker patch of darkness slithered from the direction of Reina’s bedroom. Her heart relaxed once the shadow knitted itself back into her strange friend. His jaw parted in oblivious confusion. “Is something wrong?”

“No, but...I didn’t know where you were.”

His posture relaxed as his jaw clacked together in understanding. “I needed to be sure she was asleep before I emerged.”

At this confession her insecurity quelled and she found herself feeling oddly guilty. And clingy.

She wrapped her arms around his torso letting the warmth of his body permeate the icy chamber of her lonely heart. He gasped and returned the gesture, tucking his long jaw against her back. A light rumbling sigh vibrated against her sternum.

A similar rumbling from his stomach reminded Chise of the earlier injustice, prompting her to reluctantly untangle herself and make for the fridge. She tried to hand Elias the container of remaining curry but he refused. “You need to eat more.”

She frowned. “But you haven’t had any.” She pushed it toward him again. He held his palm up to push it away. “You haven’t eaten enough.” His eyes bore into her stern and urging.

She huffed and relented, prying the container open as quietly as she could. She dipped her fork in for a few more bites and swallowed roughly. She rubbed her mouth against her fist. “There,” she shoved the container somewhat defiantly at his chest, “now you have the rest.”

Elias nodded and made quick and quiet work of the food.

She sighed harshly as he ate, before returning to the futon. Deliberately she lowered herself onto her back, hair splaying across the ground and staring at the ceiling. Her mind felt both restless and sluggish while she deliberated what she should say. But as he laid nest her on his side nothing she has thought of felt correct. Chise looked up to Elias with guilt still lingering in her eyes. “Elias,” she whispered, “I’m sorry you had to hide here too. And that I didn’t teach you as I promised.”

He stared at her for a moment before finally answering, “it's not your fault.”

She opened her mouth but choked on her words. Chise knew it would be polite, right, if she told him that he did not need to stay if he wished not to. That he did not need to be tied to a place where his actions and presence were so harshly limited. But she was terrified, horrified, that he would take up the offer and leave her as she was before. Leave her like everyone else. Leave her...alone.

“I’ll make sure we have time tomorrow.” She promised in a small voice.

He hummed in agreement. She was not the only one feeling needy she realized as Elias settled himself to lie against her, his head tucked along her neck and his left hand taking her right. As her hand clasped back comfort washed over them. Chise still wished they had been given more time today, but with each other held close, she could be held content until tomorrow.

[lucy-vanpelt]

"Jon tips his chin up for a kiss, like it's automatic, so instant and easy that Tommy wonders how they keep from accidentally doing it at the office or on the street. [...] Tommy can so easily picture the first time they did this—teenagers, probably, nervous and fumbling. Not the way they are now, so easy and familiar that he feels like he can see the whole span of their lives together, the dozens or hundreds of times they've done this." // yes, I'm cheating ;)

scream!!! first of all i cowrote this extremely self-indulgent tommy/favreau twins story with the lovely @littlemousling, so there are definitely lines from both of us in this segment that you quoted (cut for length lol):

Jon tips his chin up for a kiss, like it’s automatic, so instant and easy that Tommy wonders how they keep from accidentally doing it at the office or on the street. They look so comfortable together, Jon’s lashes dark on his cheeks when he closes his eyes and sinks into the kiss.

Matt, not surprisingly, is the one to push things forward, stroking a hand down Jon’s chest and curling his fingers into Jon’s waistband to tug his boxers down. Jon laughs into Matt’s mouth, leans back to say, “Always so impatient.”

“You love it,” Matt says, and then they’re kissing again, harder, tongues flashing in the morning sun as Tommy watches. They’re messy like this; it’s not for show, and that’s what makes it so hot that Tommy gets to see, that they’re letting him. He wants to watch anything they’re willing to show him.

Jon’s groan when Matt gets a hand around his dick sounds punched out of him. He was already most of the way hard just from sucking Tommy off, which feels like its own reward, but watching Matt’s fingers work him over is something else: the deft pull of his hand down the shaft, the twist of his wrist when he gets to the head. Jon’s gasping into Matt’s mouth by the time he slides onto his back, Matt crouched over him, and then—in almost a span of a blink, two, Matt has turned about-face so that his cock is bobbing over Jon’s mouth, and he’s breathing over Jon’s erection.

They’re both so long, stretched out like this across the foot of the bed, Jon’s feet dangling over the edge, his hands coming up to brush against Matt’s rib cage, his hips. Tommy feels light-headed, and his dick is already stirring again. He reaches down to palm it, take the edge off. “So fucking hot,” he murmurs, and they both turn to look at him at the same time, wearing matching smiles, so similar in this moment, in their intent, that Tommy almost forgets to breathe.

Tommy can so easily picture the first time they did this—teenagers, probably, nervous and fumbling. Not the way they are now, so easy and familiar that he feels like he can see the whole span of their lives together, the dozens or hundreds of times they’ve done this.

IT’S BEEN A WHILE so it’s kind of difficult to disentangle who wrote what here but i do wanna pull out “they both turn to look at him at the same time, wearing matching smiles, so similar in this moment, in their intent, that Tommy almost forgets to breathe” because i think that was mine - twincest is one of my more #problematique niche interests bc i love getting to pick apart the similarities and differences of two people who look exactly alike. we see it through tommy’s eyes because we’re in his POV, and throughout the rest of the story he gets to catalogue all the differences between them but here he gets to watch them both stare back at him, perfectly attuned, and It’s A Lot.

also, obviously, just the visual of jon favreau and his twin brother making out is VERY good 😏 because of the subject matter and because we’re in tommy’s head, parts of this story feel pretty illicit - tommy’s growing desire v. the taboo of what he wants & the uncertainty of not knowing if jon and matt are gonna be on board - but i love this moment where he really gives in (He wants to watch anything they’re willing to show him.) what he wants overriding any other emotion!!! hot.

i think that last paragraph where tommy’s thinking about how many times they must have done this in the past is molly’s, and it’s also something i love/something we tried to pull through the rest of the story, because it’s another one of my favorite things about twincest, which is being able to explore your sexuality with someone who, for all intents and purposes, has the same body as you. (selfcest: also good for this.) the familiarity of having done this before is also one of my faves, regardless of scenario - people who know each other’s bodies so well that they don’t have to talk about it anymore, they can just do it! and now they get to show tommy :’) the exhibitionism aspect of this scene is also great. [chef kiss]

[nirah10]

Pick a line

From Tiia,

Some thoughts I wrote down while reading:

1. Chapter 27: Harry

Favourite character POV yes please

2. It would likely be in Ganbri some day.

I don’t know who is more intelligent, Harry or the Doctor, but I do think Harry is wiser and this is exactly why. Harry is far more capable of thinking objectively.

3. “So…a fern then?”

XD

4. …gathering what few possessions he had earned for himself.

It’s the use of the verb earn. One verb (in a sentence which is probably there just to pace the dialogue) offhandedly reminds/tells the reader something that might take many paragraphs to describe. They’re living in someone else’s home using their resources so they’re expected to do some chores to pay for it. One verb paints the picture of what the previous four days looked like.

5. “So I want to know why, when I call everything else a rose or a vine or a shrub, I’m still calling that damn fern George.”

Harry <3

7. She was a strong and opinionated woman in a time and place where such a woman was not welcome.

Oh god you’re gonna burn Bridget on a stake, aren’t you?

According to some, her last husband had even accused her of being a witch…

Why Bridget, I liked Bridget!

8. But they weren’t there now and he suddenly realized that Harry still was.

This made me all warm inside. He’s really changed hasn’t he? The whole paragraph with the two polarized scenarios of what the Master would’ve done vs what Harry is doing really drives the character development home.

9. “I don’t have the same kind of muscle memory that you do…”

Ahh this tickles my inner biologist. I love how much sense it makes and that I hadn’t even thought of it. Thank you.

10.Harry realized that it was entirely possible he had spent more years of his life in the body of a wolf or a bear or some other predator than in a human. Hunting this way may have made more sense to him than hunting with traps…or even grocery shopping for that matter.

This and Kel’s earlier comment about Harry not understanding life beyond his own species reminded me of the fact that once, albeit briefly, the Master was a snake. Also, I like it whenever people realize how weird mundane human practices are outside the human perspective. Grocery shopping is a really weird thing when you think about it. As are jokes and laughing.

11. Kelevra pulled a pistol from inside his coat, pointed it at Mr. Corey, and pulled the trigger.

And then they accidentally witch trialed Salem. Seriously though, I thought Harry would’ve caved in first. I’ve learned more about Kel in this chapter than from Kel’s own chapter. I also love the questions Harry raises about Kel’s life – I never even thought how old Kel might be.

12. …machines of meat….

Love it. This is exactly how I see people/animals. It’s what we are. The most sophisticated machines.

13. “Mr. Corey?” Harry said, trying to sound vulnerable and nervous as any normal might would.

Typo. Throughout the chapter Harry is deliberately influencing people with his charm as he states in the beginning. He uses it time to time in Breaking Destiny&Domestic, too, but it’s like a weapon of choice in this chapter. Using charm instead of violence makes the conflict so much more interesting. It also reminds me of the Masters from Classic Who. Please more of this!

And about those Obama speech gifs you posted, you can really see that what Barack is saying is true. I’ve always gotten the true love vibe from Barack and Michelle. Also, there has never been a bromance as epic as Obama&Biden.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/04/25/obama-white-house-correspondents-dinner_n_7144706.html

I will miss these dudes and I’m not even american.

Dear Tiia,

Hello! ^_^ I’m glad to see that you enjoyed the chapter :) As difficult as they are, I do enjoy writing the Salem chapters.

2 - I liked your comment about Harry being able to think more objectively than the Doctor and I have to agree. Harry is very aware of what a long life usually leads to and is also very aware that almost everyone that Ganbri loves will die before he’s even finished growing up. That’s the kind of thing that the Doctor just prefers to not think about. It’s a reality that he doesn’t like, so he chooses to ignore it rather than prepare for it.

3 & 5 - I did not intend for the ferns to get as much attention as they do but the whole idea of them just amuses me. I like that almost everyone who has a fern has suspected from the beginning that Kel was using them to experiment on them or something, and yet they all have taken care of them anyway. I also find them to be such a defining thing for Kel’s character that I feel they just have to be talked about sometimes. If I had to pick some kind of symbol or logo for Kel, it would probably be/include a fern.

6 - There is no 6 XD

7 - I have done some research on the Salem witch trials so that I could include real people as characters so I suppose you could look up any who are mentioned. That being said, as was just demonstrated with what happened to Giles Corey, Kel and Harry are perfecty capable of (and already are) changing history. Anything is possible.

8 - One of the reasons that Harry is one of my favourites to write--he changes so much :)

9 & 10 - During their journey together, I did want to emphasize how Kel is physically different from the others a little bit. He gets a lot of crap from other characters for doing things differently or acting strangely, but few them really think about how different his experience of life is and it’s a fun thing to explore. I feel like the line from a previous chapter “Inhabit the body of a fish and show me how fish smile” worked rather well for giving the basic idea of it all, but I enjoyed exploring the concept a little more in this chapter. Every time he changes bodies, he has to completely relearn everything.

11 & 12 - Ah, my favourite moment. I’ve been thinking about this moment since I wrote the scene where Harry and Kel had that confrontation in Torchwood and Kel pulled a gun on him. He’s always been a very grey character and no one, not even Harry, has been really sure of exactly what kind of person he is when pushed into a corner. The moment where he shoots Mr. Corey, I feel, is one of the first moments where he really let himself be seen. Harry was beginning to realize that there might not be a way to escape the situation they were in without someone getting hurt, but Kel had made up his mind on how to handle it very quickly. The moment Mr. Corey stepped out from the bushes, Kel wasn’t going to let him leave.

13 - It is always fun to write manipulative characters, even when they’re only being manipulative to try to help. Harry and Kel are both quite manipulative so it’s fun to write them together, especially because of how different their methods are. Kel relies on making people uncomfortable while Harry uses charm. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of writing either of them ^_^

And finally, even though I’m not American and don’t live in America, I know I will miss the Obamas very much. Who doesn’t wish they had a marriage like Barack and Michelle? And who doesn’t wish they had a bromantic best friend like Joe Biden? I’ve been hardcore jealous of the President for years for reasons that had nothing to do with being the President lol Maybe we’ll get lucky and Michelle will be the first female President some day :) One can dream <3