#she's glad that I discovered it now and not later in life when my thought processes will be a lot more concrete

[goat-boy-sounds]

MY MOM FINALLY GETS THAT I AT LEAST HAVE NARC TRAITS YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

[rodger-eyeballis]

” HELLO EVERYONE, GUYS!! DO NOT PASS ㅤㅤㅤㅤ BY, THIS IS AN ADVERTISEMENT ㅤㅤㅤㅤ FOR A LITERARY CLUB!

I have the honor to introduce you: the first and most ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ important president of the circle associated with ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ librarianship and preserving the memory of various ㅤ ㅤ ㅤexcellent authors — Brightney the Lamp! And also, a ㅤ ㅤ beautiful girl with good taste and a very high mind. Yes, yes, this is a very important part! I like to sit at books late at night, learn from the works and write my own stories. I ㅤdon't like loafing, loud noises, and bad behavior in the library. Now, we are fully acquainted, so we can begin your ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ little enlightenment into my affairs!

Introduction: ㅤDon't worry, Rodger wasn't hacked and he didn't delete his account (otherwise I see that there haven't been any posts from him for a long time because of my intrusion).. It's just that this Sir befriendly lent me his blog on Tumblr so that your sweet Brigtney could talk about our shared comfortable library circle (why you should definitely visit it and what we will do) and about the participants you can meet in it! Yes, yes, even so! And since this part is, for the most part, my introduction and excerpt.. I would like to add that. YES, I ALSO CONSIDER RODGER TOON TO BE A NON-TRADITIONAL ORIENTATION, YOU GUYS ARE NOT ALONE. I can feel it from afar, it's not for nothing that I've read huge collections about relationships —… Oh, I'm sorry, we'll talk about this later, Rodger started looking at me menacingly (HOWEVER, if you do join the club, we can discuss the mental analysis of this Sir with examples from the literature in one of the sessions, if he doesn't come there.. Just keep it quiet, it's a secret)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤTHE MAIN PART :

ㅤYou won't regret joining our literary club! It's a place ㅤㅤwhere books come to life and discussions become real journeys into the world of literature. We read a variety of ㅤㅤ genres, from classics to modern prose, and each participant can offer their book for discussion. Every week we gather to share our thoughts and impressions, and it ㅤalways leads to interesting and deep conversations. In addition, we have meetings with our local ‘stars’ (I MEAN VEE, SHE AGREED TO VISIT US SOMETIMES), which will ㅤgreatly increase the excitement in the circle. We also organize creative events such as literary contests and workshops where you can develop your writing skills. Our club has a friendly atmosphere, and you are sure to find like-minded people and new friends. If you love literature and want to discover something new, come to us! We will be glad to see you and create a unique atmosphere of ㅤㅤㅤㅤ communication and inspiration together.

ㅤ Also, by becoming a member of the circle, you automatically get unlimited access to my library! That is, at any time and hour, even when I'm not there, you can relax on cool and soft ottomans or sip Teagan tea at the table (just be careful! Don't spill it on yourself or on the ㅤbooks). Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Participants also get access to unlimited tea and coffee, and all thanks to the ㅤㅤ misis Mug! So, don't forget to thank her for it :b

And a little new vision in the circle! Now each participant can receive their own personal logo with a bow, made and sewn from.. A DRUM ROLL.. from GLISTEN! Oh, he's such a good guy! It's only recently that we got the Mirror, even ㅤthough I've been inviting it to our club all the time.. I'm talking too much. IN SHORT! By joining the circle, you can approach this boy and officially order our beautiful logo. ㅤㅤHowever, keep in mind that the ribbon will always be GREEN, so choose the colors and the thing that will be on the emblem more carefully. For example, I have a Feather ㅤㅤㅤㅤ sewn here! — Yeah, it's very beautiful.

Summary results for the lazy (Although, ㅤㅤwhat's the point of joining a LITERARY circle if you're ㅤㅤㅤㅤ even too lazy to read a short text??):

(By joining the club, you will receive..)

A reading experience and a good atmosphere!!!

Unlimited access to the Library (and yes, I forgot to tell you. It's on the ground floor of the third elevator!)

Meeting with the star of the quiz program — Vee

Masterclasses and contests

Excellent tea and coffee from Teagan (who will always be sitting in the library for you.. She really liked it there)

Special official logos to order from Glisten

And I'd like to add on my own: A handsome, muscularly attractive detective who comes to our club once every few weeks. Although, no. I'm not letting you look at sexy guys instead of reading 😤—

Well, that's it, guys! I hope you are at least interested in ㅤㅤsomething and you have a desire to join the club.. Although, this is more specific to toons, which makes me extremely upset. But don't worry, if I ever have my own ㅤㅤㅤblog, we can set up an online literary club, but in the meantime, you can get some information from Rodger about books! He's certainly not me, but the detective's ㅤㅤㅤ reading experience is more than good^^

ㅤㅤㅤ————————————————

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Members: (This section was created to show my favorites and their wishes for you! And maybe your personal opinion about ㅤㅤㅤㅤ the club.. For this reason, read to the end)

Razzle and Dazzle, comedy and drama specials at the same time! Deputy head of the club, keeps order in the ㅤㅤㅤㅤ library (puts books in their place, etc)🌙☀️

— Yes, that's us!!! Hello country, hello world, we are ready to work for the benefit of the club and you wonderful persons!!

— (Oh, you're at it again.. Be more calm, brother, you can't make noise in the library.. Don't set a bad example for them. Be quiet and calm, literary works require diligent thoughtfulness and understanding to understand the deep essence of it to the end.. This does not apply to comedi—)

— Hey! You're belittling me in public again!

Astro, the second headman, runs the library exclusively at night (if you take a late meal or have a nightmare, then go to him for sure!). He is also an expert in everything, but his ㅤㅤ favorite genre is science fiction about space ✉️

( I'm sorry, I didn't have time to interview him because he... he.. Um, too busy! Yes! This one's definitely not because he's missing or something.. )

Our beautiful Teagan! She has recently joined our team, but she is always ready to offer you interesting fashion ㅤㅤㅤㅤ magazines, as well as sad romantic novels 🍃

— Oh, my dear little darlings, I must confess that I have yet to fully immerse myself in the enchanting realm of literature, much like the illustrious Brigtney. However, I would be absolutely delighted to share a delightful cup of spiced tea with you, accompanied by a captivating book. Please, do not hesitate to approach me; I have a splendid tea set that is perfect for such serene and cozy moments. One can only hope that the mischievous dog-girl refrains from nibbling on it once more... Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Rodger?

This is my favorite duo! Rodger and Toodles (who also ㅤ ㅤㅤjoined here not long ago) are ardent fans of ㅤㅤDetective Stories, especially if they contain a bit of psychological horror.. Are you sure children can read this?.. Although, I know for sure that when this little girl learns to analyze the text under my guidance, she will not ㅤㅤㅤㅤ only read such works, heh^^⭐️💫

— Wait a minute, when did Toodles manage to devour the tea set.. ahem. Yes, when I have a little free time, I spend most of my time reading a book. However, at this point in time, I'm not only reading a detective story, so it would be extremely helpful if you would recommend some work. Only normal.. I've had enough of Brigtney as it is (I'll read romance with Glisten, he just seems to like this genre.. Although, after the death of Romeo and Juliet, he has not yet recovered..)

— VEEE! VEE iS comINg! SHE's cOMing, SHESs COOMing! I reALLy waNT to see hEr, I'm heR faN. I hOPe she liKESs dETECctive boOKks toO.

ps: I did not choose the logo for the bow, but this star on the bow is extremely good.. I think Mirror did a good job. My daughter liked it too, that's the most important thing.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Glisten stars (???):

Yeah, I made a separate paragraph for Glisten because ㅤㅤhe... he.. The coolest, most beautiful, awesome and attractive toon in the whole center! It's impossible not to ㅤㅤgive Mirror a special place of honor when he not only visited me, but also bothered to help me upgrade the ㅤㅤㅤㅤ club.. God, do I have to write all this? 🎀

— Oh, yes, it's me! Come on, stop applauding! I know that you all love me, but there should be silence on the stage. That's it, thanks. Your wonderful Glisten has finally decided to join the club, after several pleading requests from Brightney. However, I'm not going to go to the library often beca— WAIT A MINUTE! Will Teagan be there? Wait, where is she from.. together with Rodg? In the same room? She's a two-faced fuc—... Mmm, anyway, this Lamp inspired me to improve and I will gladly go to the literary club every day. So wait for me there, my beloved fans😘

ㅤㅤㅤ————————————————

Phew, it was hard, but we got through it.. More precisely, I ㅤdid it! Thank you for reading, and I hope you didn't get bored my presentation. Maybe we'll see each other on the blog someday, if I need anything else from Mr. Rodger, but ㅤㅤㅤㅤ for now, see you again^^ ”

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 5.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 5,4K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: Viktor discovers this thing called feelings and doesn't like it. Also a small tw, as he is a bit mean in this chapter. Another also: if you read my other multichapter, you will discover that Angus and Ambrose travel through all my AUs as cameos :') Besides that, I am slowly learning how to phase out the use of Y/N, so with each chapter there will be less and less.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

You sat cross-legged on your bed, absentmindedly picking at the seam of your pyjama bottoms as Sue knelt by the bed frame, painting her nails. You knew you had to tell her, especially after almost an entire week of brooding, miserable sighs, and coming up with new expert ways to avoid Viktor.

“So… it was about him all this time? I should’ve known,” Sue said, her tone analytical, as though piecing together all of your encounters with Viktor since the beginning of the year. When she thought about it with her science brain, it all slotted together seamlessly, though the crease in her brow betrayed her concern.

You gave a small huff. “Even I didn’t know,” you said quietly, though who were you kidding? You knew—you just didn’t want to admit it. The truth was, Viktor’s rejection had been a big blow. Not because you didn’t handle rejection well—you were usually the one doing the rejecting, as frankly, people terrified you most of the time. You felt bad for underestimating him. You had presumed Viktor was lonely and would welcome someone willing to get to know him better.

You’d been oblivious to all the hungry glances he received in the corridors, the girls giggling as he passed by them with his nose in a book. The way people looked at him when he was flushed from alcohol, his accent slurring slightly, occasionally drawing words in his native language.

You were also oblivious to how all those things about him made you feel, and you kept telling yourself you had a special intellectual connection that came before all of that. And it was a terrible lie, because when you thought of him now, the first things that came to mind were his long fingers, the way he formulated sentences, and his long eyelashes.

“Earth to Y/N?” Sue’s voice snapped you out of the palace of your mind. “Have you tried talking to him?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips quirked into a reluctant smile. “Yes, and it went dandy. He told me he got carried away, and I told him he was a wanker. We shook on it and lived happily ever after.”

“Y/N, don’t do that with me.” Sue placed her hand on your foot, smearing some of her freshly painted nails on the bedsheet in the process. “I’m sorry I left you alone. I didn’t know it was—this big.”

“I’m only telling you about this now because I’m only able to talk about it now. You wouldn’t have been able to do much before,” you said, offering her a reassuring smile. “Besides…” You trailed off, looking down at your hands. “I’m glad at least one of us is happy.”

“What did Hale say?” Sue asked, curious to know what kind of ancient wisdom Hale had stored up for the event of a heartbreak.

“Oh, he doesn’t know yet,” you whined, hiding your head in your knees. “He has a very scary dad side that I’m not ready to unleash just yet.” Seeing the questioning look on her face, you added, “Sue, I can see him in my head going to Viktor to have a chat about hurting the love of his life. I don’t think I can handle that yet. Besides…” You sighed reluctantly. “It’s Hale who keeps telling me I’m the queen of the world when I’m clearly not.”

“Alright, that’s just unhealthy. You are a fucking queen of the world. Not even a month ago you did an impromptu guest star spot in a musical in front of, like, five hundred people.” It was much less than that, but Sue wasn’t very good with numbers. “And seeing you turning inside out over some sad fart makes my skin crawl.”

“Is that what we’re calling him now? Sad fart?” you chuckled despite yourself. You weren’t entirely sold on the “fart” part, but you couldn’t shake Viktor’s sad image from that evening in the lab. The way he’d looked so tired and flinched every time you snapped at him. The way his brows furrowed, and he lowered his eyes. The way he’d tried to stop you, and you wouldn’t let him.

Sue’s hand moved to your knee. “Yes. Sad fart it is,” she grinned at you shyly. “How long do you need before I take you out, shower you in love and compliments, and find you a cute boy to hang out with to make Viktor’s blood boil?”

“Give me twenty minutes,” you sighed, watching Sue’s eyebrows waggle at you.

She didn’t find you a boy, but the two of you got ridiculously drunk that night and danced around in the courtyard fountain to Kate Bush, still in your pyjamas. A few lights in the building flickered on, including the one in the TA’s office—though neither of you noticed. It was obscenely cold, and a security guard tried to chase you down campus as you hid under the workbench in the lab. You returned to your room wet and giggling, minus one of your shoes.

***

A week later, the pub was packed with students blowing off steam before the next round of assignments loomed. You sipped your cider as Hale leaned across you to steal a handful of crisps, Sue laughing at his antics. You’d run into Viktor, Jayce, and Mel, and decided to act like an adult by accepting Mel’s invitation to your group’s usual spot by the fireplace.

“See, Viktor, this is where you go wrong,” Mel teased from across the bowl of breadsticks, wagging her finger at him. “You never give us the gossip. Jayce and I are still waiting to hear who left that very telling mark on your lip.”

Jayce grinned, raising his pint. “Yeah, man. We were taking bets. I was sure it’d be some PhD student. Mel thinks it was a theatre kid.”

Viktor’s smile was tight, his fingers curling around his glass. “I assure you, it’s nothing worth betting on.” He couldn’t think of anything worse happening in this moment.

“Very mysterious,” Mel sang, her eyes narrowing. “Did you actually kiss someone, or did you just hit yourself in a drunken slur?” She pushed too far this time, as Jayce hissed and pressed a hand to her shoulder, signalling her to back off before Viktor snapped her neck.

You smirked, hiding it behind your drink. It was almost satisfying watching Viktor squirm under Mel’s playful interrogation. Almost. But the mention of it “not being worth betting on” made your stomach twist slightly. Before you could think of a cutting remark to add, a voice interrupted.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see a tall, sandy-haired student standing by your group, his expression nervous but determined. You blinked in recognition.

“Angus, right?” He exhaled in relief, probably because he wasn’t prepared to remind you how the two of you might have known each other. Encouraged, he crouched to level with you.

“Yeah. I, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks colouring. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something since Open Days, but I never got the chance.” He hesitated, glancing nervously at your friends.

Hale raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the show. He had learned about the mishap with Viktor shortly after Sue. He’d made a dramatic fuss about being the second to receive the news, swore revenge on the vile "sad fart" who had hurt the love of his life, and promised to keep you safe till the end of his days.

“I was wondering if you’d like to grab coffee sometime?” Angus finished, his voice steady despite the flush creeping up his neck.

Your lips parted in surprise. You glanced at Sue, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. “Sure,” you said, smiling. “That sounds nice.” Actually, what the hell. You could have coffee with Angus.

Angus beamed, pulling out his phone. You gave him your number, aware of Mel’s approving smirk from across the table. As Angus walked away, Mel leaned in. “Finally, someone with taste. Well done.”

You laughed lightly, but your gaze flickered to Viktor. His expression was carefully neutral, but the tension in his jaw was unmistakable. A moment later, he stood. “I think I’ll call it a night,” he said, tapping his cane against the floor. “Leg’s acting up.”

“Aw, come on,” Jayce said. “You’ve only had one drink!”

“Some of us value our health, Jayce,” Viktor replied, his tone dry. “I’ll see you all in class.”

As he was leaving, you caught the stiff line of his shoulders and the slight unevenness of his gait. For a moment, you considered following him, but you stayed put.

Viktor walked back to the dorm, the clinking of his cane against the tile floor echoing in the quiet hallway. His mind was far from the dimly lit pub he’d just left behind. No, it was still wrapped around the conversation, the questions, and that damn mark on his lip. The one that made his heart sink the day he woke up to find it had faded completely. It should have been nothing. Nothing more than a harmless tease from Mel, a drunken mistake he could brush off with a wry smile. Yet, it lingered in his mind, gnawing at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

Who left the mark on my lip?

The question had come out of nowhere, but it felt like it had pierced right through the veneer of calm he usually wore. Viktor had been careful, so careful about keeping his emotions in check, about staying distant. But every time someone mentioned the kiss—the touch—it reminded him of something he couldn’t define.

He paused outside his dorm room door, staring at the worn wood as his hand hovered over the knob.

What did I expect?

He had spent years learning to shut off the noise, to keep his focus solely on his work. He had indulged in a few distractions in the past, each one a failure. Yet, every time you were near, it was like something else tugged at him, pulling him off course. It had started with your questions in class, your jokes, the way you always seemed to say just the right thing—or just the wrong thing, depending on how one looked at it. You were the kind of person who got under his skin without even trying, and Viktor hated it.

He entered the room, tossing his coat onto the chair by his desk and walking over to the window. The city lights below flickered in the distance, the sounds of the busy campus fading as he closed the blinds. He sank into the armchair by the window, resting his cane beside him.

Angus.

The thought of him—that stupid student asking you out so casually—caused a familiar tightness in Viktor’s chest. There was no reason for him to feel threatened. He didn’t care about your personal life, didn’t care who you decided to spend time with. Yet, the image of you smiling at Angus—so effortlessly, so innocently—made something shift deep inside him.

The way he’d felt leaving the pub, the way his muscles had tightened when you accepted the offer to grab coffee with Angus, was all so... foreign to him. He wasn’t supposed to care. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything.

But Viktor had learned long ago that desire wasn’t so easily suppressed.

He closed his eyes for a moment, the silence of the room thick and suffocating. His mind wandered back to the pub, to the way you had laughed with your friends, how your smile had lit up the room when Angus had approached you. He hadn’t expected it to affect him this much. He had expected to walk out, let it go, but instead, he’d felt something stir in him—a jealousy, perhaps? But why? You weren’t his.

The stupid part of Viktor wanted to fight back. To make you squirm and run back to him, so this time it would be him who left a mark on your lips and left you to deal with Mel’s questions. He wanted to make your face go flush red as he teased you about how much you’d enjoyed your performance in the lab with Sue. He would push your buttons, tease you out of your mind—but that was it. Keep you at arm’s length.

Stop this.

But the thought only lasted for a moment before his mind drifted once more to you—your strange talents, your sharp wit, the way your eyes seemed to challenge him whenever they crossed paths. You were a puzzle, a mystery he couldn’t solve. And the more he tried to distance himself, the more intrigued he became.

He pushed himself to his feet, leaning on the cane as he crossed the room to his desk, where his textbooks lay open. The distractions were easy enough to find—work, studies, the endless grind of the lab. But tonight, he wasn’t sure if any of it would be enough to quiet the storm raging inside his mind.

***

You carefully adjusted the pipette, trying to focus, but Sue’s chatter kept sending jolts of disturbance through your brain. You were still a bit jumpy, and avoiding Viktor was still a thing. Unfortunately, today was his class.

“Are you going to tell me anything about Angus, hm?” Sue mused, propping her chin on her hand, her voice drifting in and out as she worked. “He has a slight accent, no?” She set her samples down, waiting for a response from you. When none came, Sue’s mind drifted, and she asked an absent-minded question into space. “I wonder where Viktor’s accent’s from.”

You barely registered Sue’s words as you focused on your task. You set the pipette down, your mind drifting to Viktor because of your friend. All you wanted to do was sigh—the man was still a sad fart.

“Czech,” you muttered absentmindedly, tapping the edge of the flask with a frown on your forehead.

Sue blinked, glancing over at you. “Czech? How do you know that?”

You shrugged, your attention still fixed on the exercise. “I have ears.” Your voice was dry, tinged with something sharper. “And he’s got that... all-knowing, ‘life is hard where I come from’ Slavic man attitude.” You snorted, the bitterness slipping out more than you’d intended.

“I guess that makes sense… oh crap, careful!” Sue instantly wished she hadn’t mentioned Viktor at all.

You didn’t have time to respond before you misjudged the tilt of the vial and knocked over the alkaline solution. Your hand shot out instinctively to catch it, but you winced as it splashed across your skin, a burning sensation searing through your palm.

“Shit,” you hissed, immediately pulling your hand back.

“That’s going to burn.” The voice was cold and precise—Viktor, standing directly behind you. You hadn’t noticed him approach.

He stood there, his cane resting lightly against the counter, his amber eyes fixed on your hand.

“Focus and coordination would serve you better in the lab than... ears,” Viktor said, his tone dry, though not unkind.

You winced again as the pain spread across your hand, and you looked up at him, still trying to shake off the surprise. “Great. Just great.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, glancing at the vial you’d knocked over. “What did you spill?”

“This,” you replied, your voice tinged with frustration as you pointed toward the workbench with your chin. “Sorry, I got distracted,” you sighed, feeling defeated.

Viktor’s lips twisted into something like a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Distracted. Of course.” Is it Angus who keeps you distracted? A snarky thought pushed itself into his brain.

He stepped closer, his movements precise as he gently guided you toward the back room for first aid. You felt a twinge of discomfort as you walked, the sting of the burn reminding you of your mistake. Viktor’s presence was unnerving, to say the least, his focus intense as he prepared the supplies.

When you reached the office, Viktor carefully set to work. He adjusted the temperature and beckoned you to the sink. His hands brushed lightly against your skin as he held it under lukewarm water. You bit your lip, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of his fingers on your hand.

“Should’ve been more careful,” he muttered, his voice quiet but firm as he gently dabbed at the burn. You let out an annoyed sigh and rolled your eyes at him. The cool water on your skin felt like a relief, but the occasional touch of his fingers sent a strange, electric shiver through you. It was all very sudden after days of avoiding each other and pretending there was no elephant in the room.

He hummed lightly, continuing to treat the burn with a careful hand. After a few moments, he glanced up at you. “Why weren’t you wearing gloves?”

“I said, I got distracted,” you repeated, your voice quiet and tight with frustration.

Viktor’s lips quirked into a slight smile. “And what distracts you so? Angus? Or is it my accent?”

“Please stop,” you muttered, your pride and your hand both hurting now. “You’re not funny.”

There was a long pause. Viktor’s touch, though still efficient, had softened. His fingers were careful as he applied ointment to your burn, his movements deliberate, as if sensing the shift in you. He applied pressure to the heel of your palm, then gently played with your fingers.

“Why didn’t you wear gloves?” he repeated, his voice lower now, as if the question weren’t really about the gloves anymore.

You glanced at him, feeling oddly exposed, your heart speeding up slightly. You didn’t know why you had answered so quickly before, but now the silence felt heavy. His fingers were too close, too intimate, and his gaze was locked onto yours with an intensity that made the air in your throat feel thick. Why was he suddenly letting his touch linger longer than necessary? After making sure to push you away—no, not push you away, but keep you at arm's length, as if said arm was the length of the equator.

“I—” you started, your voice catching in your throat. You bit your lip, then involuntarily glanced toward his lips—barely a second, but enough to make your pulse quicken. Immediately, you scolded yourself in your mind. Girl, get a grip. But Viktor was completely unreadable. His face remained a mask of calm, yet you could’ve sworn there was something flickering in his eyes. Was it amusement? You couldn’t tell, and it drove you insane.

The silence stretched between you again, gooey, slow, almost suffocating. You dared not look up at him, but you could feel his gaze weighing down on you like a tangible thing. Your mind was running a mile a minute, trying to decipher his motives, his intent, but it was no use. He was too good at hiding whatever was behind that steady, unreadable exterior.

Viktor took a sharp breath and reached for the bandages, and you almost whined at the loss of contact. You hadn’t realized how much his touch had steadied some part of you until it was gone. Viktor smirked under his nose, amused, seeing the way you visibly relaxed when his hands found yours again.

“How did you know I was Czech?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and something more playful, like he was enjoying this little game you’d somehow stumbled into.

You blinked at him in surprise, momentarily thrown off balance by his tone. “I... can recognize some Slavic accents.”

Viktor tilted his head slightly, his amber eyes gleaming with an unreadable expression. “And where are you from, Y/N?” His voice had an edge of genuine curiosity, but a challenge lingered in it. Make her squirm.

You raised an eyebrow, masking your sudden unease with a smirk, feeling a flicker of irritation at how easily he seemed to disarm you. You threw him a bait, not realizing it was he who was the hunter. “Guess. I’ll give you three questions.”

Viktor’s eyes lit up, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. He was clearly enjoying himself now, the opportunity to ask something personal laid before him. “Favourite food from home?”

“Pierogi,” you answered without hesitation, though the word felt like a small, sharp confession. You quickly added, “Don’t overthink it.” It was bizarre that you were talking about this now.

His gaze sharpened as he processed your answer. His eyes narrowed just slightly, and a gleam of realization flashed in them. “You’re Polish.” He thought to himself, I should have known.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to guess it so quickly. “Half-Polish. But yes. Impressive,” you said, leaning back slightly, a bit thrown off. “You’ve got two questions left.”

Viktor studied you for a moment, the mischievous gleam in his eyes never quite fading. He seemed to enjoy how off-balance you looked. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he asked innocently, “And who’s your favourite TA?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the questions. You hadn’t expected him to ask something so pointed. “Uh... despite everything, you,” you said, your voice faltering for just a moment. You quickly averted your gaze, trying to mask the sudden awkwardness that swept over you.

Viktor smirked, clearly delighted by your response. “Flattery won’t get you far,” he said, his tone teasing, but there was a softness to it.

You straightened, meeting his gaze again, your expression firm, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I think I’m being honest.” You chose not to elaborate on why, as it was a revelation to you as well.

Viktor’s amusement flickered for a moment, and his gaze softened slightly. He studied you for a few beats, the tension between you palpable as he took in the way your jaw tightened, the slight flush on your cheeks. Then his expression shifted back to something more serious, more gentle—as if he decided to surrender something in that moment. He took your bandaged hand back into his and began tracing circles around your wrist with his thumb.

“Why are you such a pain in the ass for me, hmm?”

You blinked again, clearly thrown off by the question—again. You felt an uncomfortable tightness in your chest. “Why am I... what? What do you mean?” Your voice had a slight edge to it, as if you were trying to mask the unease building inside you. Why would he do that now?

Viktor didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he continued to trace light, lazy circles around your wrist, his touch almost soothing, though the underlying intent was far from that. His eyes never left yours—sharp, testing.

“Don’t play coy,” he said, his voice low, the corners of his mouth curling up. “You know exactly what I mean. Why do you make things difficult for me, Y/N?”

You felt your pulse quicken, confusion and frustration mixing. You tried to shake it off with humour. “You... reap what you sow?” you said, a weak attempt at deflecting.

Viktor didn’t falter, his gaze still steady, his expression unreadable. “Oh, I think I’m well aware of the consequences. But you seem to enjoy making things... complicated.”

Your heart raced, the teasing tone from him sinking in deeper. Without thinking, you pulled your hand away from his, trying to put some space between you, but Viktor didn’t miss a beat. His eyes narrowed, watching you closely as you shifted.

“Are you fucking with me?” your voice was sharp now, your frustration bubbling over. You crossed your arms, not sure whether you wanted to storm off or stay and challenge him.

Viktor’s lips curled into a half-smile, amusement dancing in his eyes. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, the teasing tone still lingering. “Wouldn’t you like me to?” He didn’t break eye contact, watching you with quiet, unnerving intensity.

“You are so full of yourself,” you scoffed, but the stupid part of your brain whispered a wistful maybe that rang in your skull like a bell. You wanted to deflect, but something about him made you lose your grip. “Is that your attempt at being cruel?”

“No,” Viktor said, his voice dripping with poisonous sweetness, each word calculated to make your skin prickle. He closed the distance between you, leaning over to murmur into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “This is my attempt at getting even.” He scolded himself for giving away his intent, but the heat rising within him was stronger than reason. It was anger, of course.

Your breath caught, your pulse quickening as his words slid into your consciousness, the warmth of his proximity undeniable. Viktor smirked mercilessly against your skin, savouring the moment in which he had almost made you fall apart.

“You can now think about how my hands on your skin made you feel, regardless of Angus,” he continued, his voice a low hum, sending a shiver down your spine. “And how your name sounds in my accent that you studied so carefully, Y/N. And what it would sound like in other circumstances… though I think you had a glimpse.”

Your mind spun, his words wrapping around you like a snake. Viktor straightened up, and for a moment, the room felt too small, too suffocating. The air became sticky, and you couldn’t escape the weight of the silence between you.

“You can take the rest of the class off,” he said, his voice cool and casual now, though the teasing glint never left his eyes. “Just don’t touch anything… unclean with that hand.”

“Eat shit, Viktor,” you spat, the words bitter as they left your mouth. You turned on your heel, eyes filling with hot tears, your lower belly tightening into a burning knot. You didn’t dare look at Sue, your emotions too raw. With one last furious breath, you fled the classroom, your legs carrying you down the corridor as you crumbled against the nearest wall, trying to suppress your sobs.

When you finally got there, you slammed the door to your dorm room shut, leaning against it as your chest heaved with unspent fury and helplessness. The small space felt suffocating, your desk cluttered with books and notes, the unmade bed in the corner serving as a silent witness to the chaos inside your mind. You pressed your hands to your face, the bandaged one brushing against your cheek like a quiet reminder of everything that had just unfolded. You pulled it away sharply, staring at the neat white wrappings with a mix of disgust and shame.

Your mind raced, replaying the scene in the lab. The smug tilt of Viktor’s lips. The unbearable warmth of his fingers brushing your skin. The low hum of his voice, so calm and calculated, deliberately needling you until you unravelled. And that final, infuriating smirk—the one you could still feel seared into your memory.

You flinched, a sharp, involuntary movement, as if you could physically shake him out of your mind. “He is so full of shit,” you hissed under your breath, pacing across the room. Your anger surged, hot and unrelenting. “This is just a game to him. Some cruel, twisted game.”

But then the anger faltered, giving way to something more raw and disorienting. Why had he pushed you like that? Why did he say your kiss was a mistake, only to turn around and toy with you like this? Was he just cruel, or did he mean something more? The uncertainty gnawed at you, twisting your stomach into knots. You hated the way your mind kept circling back to him, as if he’d taken up residence there, smug and untouchable.

You slumped onto the edge of your bed, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. The silence of the room pressed in on you, a heavy, suffocating weight. Your chest felt tight, your thoughts spinning endlessly, looping back to the way he’d leaned in close, his words dripping with venom and something else you couldn’t name. Your vision blurred, and you realized your hands were trembling.

When there was nothing left to pace about, nothing to distract you from the storm of emotions building inside, you let out a shaky breath. A memory surfaced, soft and fleeting: your mother’s voice, calm and steady, guiding you through moments like this. You closed your eyes, the words coming to your lips before you could second-guess yourself.

“My heart is full of love and understanding,” you whispered, the mantra shaky at first, then gaining strength as you repeated it. “My heart is full of love and understanding.”

You said it again, and again, your voice steadying with each repetition, the familiar cadence grounding you in the present. But when the words finally felt stable in your throat, you hesitated, your lips parting as something reckless and desperate rose to the surface.

“Viktor’s heart is full of love and understanding,” you murmured, the words trembling as they left you. The sound of his name in your voice felt foreign, wrong, and yet it lingered in the air like an accusation.

Your voice cracked. Your chest tightened. And before you could stop it, a sob broke free, raw and unbidden. It was as if speaking his name had opened a floodgate, releasing the tangle of emotions you’d fought so hard to contain. Confusion, anger, longing—all of it crashed over you, and you doubled over, your face in your hands as tears spilled onto your lap.

The mantra was supposed to help, but instead, it only seemed to amplify everything you’d been holding back. You cried until your breath came in gasps, your body shaking with the force of it. It wasn’t fair—none of it was fair. Viktor had no right to get under your skin like this, to make you feel so small and exposed.

When the tears finally subsided, you sat in the silence, your breath still uneven, your body heavy with exhaustion. You stared down at your bandaged hand again, the edges of the wrappings slightly damp from where your tears had soaked through. A bitter laugh escaped you, quiet and self-deprecating.

“What a mess,” you muttered, your voice hoarse.

You leaned back against the wall, the anger now dulled to a slow simmer beneath the weight of everything else. And for the first time, you let yourself admit what you’d been avoiding all along: you should’ve probed him more. You should’ve insisted, pressed for answers instead of letting him dictate the moment and twist it into something cruel.

The thought was uncomfortable, prickling like a splinter lodged deep beneath your skin. He was probably doing this because he was hurt, and it wasn’t easy to let that idea settle in your mind. But once it did, it sat there, heavy and unyielding, refusing to be ignored.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Let’s reverse the question, AGSZC get stuck in a timeloop COLLECTIVELY, what’s the first thing they do?

The Nibelheim Time Loop (from hell)

Nibelheim Loop #1

Cloud: Man, I had the weirdest dream last night.

Zack: One where Sephiroth burns your village down?

Cloud: That's so creepy! How did you know?

Zack: I had the exact same dream.

*Sephiroth walks up to them*

Zack: Sephiroth, did you have any weird dreams last night?

Sephiroth: I had a dream where I turned into an infant kangaroo and was taken from my mother at birth, deprived of the comfort of her pouch, and forced to work for Shinra. Years later I discovered my mother was complicit in denying me the pouch. Seeking solace, I found an artificial pouch from a robotic alien kangaroo mother. I then rode contentedly in her pouch as she burned everything around us to keep me warm.

Zack: A simple yes would've sufficed.

-

Nibelheim Loop #5

Zack: You're living the same day over and over too, right? I'm not going crazy?

Sephiroth: Actually, I just noticed that we're in a time loop this morning.

Zack: You burned down Nibelheim four times.

Sephiroth, gaslighting him: What a touching story.

Zack: !?

-

Nibelheim Loop #8

*Nibelheim is burning*

Cloud: WHY!? WHY?? WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT ANYMORE!? WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS?

Sephiroth, roasting marshmallows: Professor Hojo never let me roast marshmallows when I was a child. He claimed the sugar would provide excess dopamine, tricking my brain into thinking I could be happy and want more out of life.

Cloud: Shit man I had no idea

-

Nibelheim Loop #12

*Zack, Cloud and Genesis are holding Sephiroth down to keep him from entering the library*

Zack: QUIT IT! YOU ALREADY KNOW THE TRUTH!

Sephiroth: I YEARN.

Zack: FOR WHAT!?

Sephiroth: I YEARN.

-

Nibelheim Loop #16

*After tying Sephiroth up and sedating him*

Zack: There! Now he can't escape, and Jenova can't do mind control on him! Problem solved! No more Jenova cell people running around.

Zack:

Zack: *smells smoke*

Zack: That apple bastard.

-

Nibelheim Loop #23

Cloud: You know what!? This is a time loop! There are no consequences! I can go up to Sephiroth and kill him right now! Fuck it!

*Sephiroth walks up to him, Cloud punches his chest (nothing happens)*

Sephiroth: …..

*Cloud punches him again. He doesn't move*

Sephiroth: …..

*Cloud tries again. It's like punching a brick wall*

Sephiroth: Please stop fondling my chest.

Cloud: Oh my god.

-

Nibelheim Loop #36

Sephiroth: Am I….a human being?

Sephiroth: ….

*Sephiroth turns around*

Sephiroth: Where's Genesis?

Zack: He's not here, but he left this note. Here, let me read it—"Dear Sephiroth, I grew tired of flying from Banora to Nibelheim 35 times only to be met with disappointment, so I'm spending this loop in Costa Del Sol. Best Wishes, your friend, Genesis Rhapsodos."

Sephiroth: Wow. And he didn't even insult me this time.

Zack: "P.S.: No such luck kitty-boy you're a monster and yer mum's an alien. Get rekt."

Sephiroth:

-

Nibelheim Loop #???

*At the library*

Zack: Sephiroth! Stop!

Sephiroth: Each time I return here, my mind becomes clearer, more adept at absorbing information. This only fuels my bitterness and resentment, rather than allowing me to grow accustomed to it. I think this time I'll burn—

*Vincent appears and knocks him out with a pipe*

Zack: Woah! You got sick of the time loop too?

Vincent: What time loop?

Zack:

-

*The next day, after the time loop is broken*

Vincent: I'm glad I could be of assistance.

Cloud: Who would've thought that would end the time loop.

Vincent: Yes. It appears all Sephiroth needed was paternal discipline.

Cloud, gasping: You mean....? You're...?

Vincent: Yes. I'm Sephiroth's parent—

Cloud: !!

Vincent: —tal figure since I was in love with his real mother and his father is Professor Hojo, a role I've assigned myself purely due to the fact that I see myself as his primary caregiver during trying times, which is how an adequate father should act.

Cloud:

Vincent: Not that I would know.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 15

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: None. Just angst and fluff.

Word Count: 3,343

A/N: So, here it is - Chapter 15, and the end of this series. I've been so grateful for all the wonderful reblogs and encouraging comments this fic has received as it's gone along week by week. Your support is the reason why it's finally completed.

It began life as just a few chapters from an orphaned fic of mine over on ff.net and now it's a fully completed Dean fic that I'm very proud of. 😊 So thanks again, and I hope you enjoy the end of this story, and feel it was worth the investment of your time. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Four weeks later. January 1901.

Dean sat down heavily behind his mahogany desk and picked up his morning mail before immediately throwing it back down in annoyance. 

It will just be invitations and invoices, Dean thought, who cares?

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and digging his fingers into them. He was hungover and had barely slept. He felt like he'd been hit with a brick building.

With a deep sigh, he opened the file in front of him and ran his hand over the top page. It was his copy of the deal that he’d finally signed a week ago.

Two weeks ago, George Taskett had called his secretary to arrange a meeting. When Dean showed up at the appointed time, George apologized profusely for what had happened at the theater.

“It’s taken me a little while to reach out to you because I wanted to be able to tell you that Byron Temple had been fired, and before I could do that, I needed to speak to the board about it first. But I can assure you now that he has been permanently removed from his position, and fired from our company. It seems that the board shared my concerns with his lack of moral character.”

George had told Dean that when they investigated a little bit, they’d discovered that the incident at The Manhattan hadn't been the first such incident for Temple. Dean was not surprised, and he was glad that the board of Northern Freight had been all too happy to show him the door.

So with Temple out of the picture, the deal had gone through as originally planned and all three companies were now set to make a lot of money. Winchester Shipping and Lumber was in the best shape it had ever been in.

But he still couldn't sleep at night.

As he tucked the file away, he heard a knock at the door and then Grant's voice when he opened it. Dean couldn't make out what he was saying to the visitor, but if it was anything other than, “come back another day”, Dean might have to fire him.

A minute later, however, Grant was in his doorway to announce his guest. But Dean didn't need the announcement, as he saw his baby brother's towering frame standing behind his butler.

Dean stood up with a frown, walking out from behind his desk as Grant left, and Sam entered his study. “What's wrong?” He asked without preamble.

Sam shook his head. “Nothing's wrong.”

Dean's scowl got deeper. “What do you mean ‘nothing’s wrong’? Then what are you doing here?”

Sam shrugged. “Just wanted to visit my brother.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against his desk and fixing Sam with a look as he took a seat on one of the leather chairs across from Dean.

“You just wanted to visit?” Dean asked, his voice incredulous. “You thought you'd take a six hour train ride to just…drop in and say hi?”

“Sure.”

“Sam.”

“I just wanted to see how you're doing. See if you're alright.” Sam said innocently.

“Why wouldn't I be?”

Sam sighed. “Cause Y/N isn't.”

Dean's heart beat double time as he scowled again at his little brother. “Sam, honest to god…” He ran a hand through his hair. “This better not be the real reason you're here.”

“It is.” Sam said calmly.

“Well, then I'm sorry you wasted your money on a train ticket, along with six hours of your life.” He held up a finger. “No, twelve, actually, cause you're gonna leave now.”

Sam just continued to stare at him, annoying him profusely. Finally his little brother had the audacity to shake his head and scold him.

“Dean, why did you let her go? I saw you with her, saw you at Christmas. I know you love her.”

“Bullshit!” Dean barked at him, angrily. “You are imagining things, Sam, and I'm not interested in dredging up this same asinine conversation I already had with your wife.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, she told me about it. Just made us even more sure that you were completely in love with Y/N. What we couldn't figure out is why you were so furious about the very idea of loving her.”

“Dammit Sam, drop this!” Dean shouted at him as he straightened up from the desk. 

Sam pointed at him. “Yeah, furious like that.” He shrugged. “But then…I think I figured it out “

"Oh, did you?" Dean asked with a death stare, feeling the panic start to rise up in him.

Sam's voice softened as he looked Dean in the eye. “You're afraid you'll end up like Dad.” 

Dean clenched his jaw and refused to respond.

But eventually Sam just shook his head. “You won't though.”

Fear and panic sat thick in Dean's throat, clogging his voice as he spoke. “You don't know that.”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, I do.”

Silence reigned for a moment before Dean shuffled back and sat down behind his desk again. His head was pounding harder than ever.

He watched Sam for a while before he shook his head. “You don't remember him the way - I mean, obviously you couldn't remember him how he was. Before. But…” 

He scrubbed an exhausted hand down his face. “I remember. The way he was. I remember him laughing and smiling. The way he'd pick me up when he walked back in the door at the end of the day, ride me around on his shoulders…I remember all of it. And I remember when it was gone. He was like a completely different man. He might as well have died with her, cause he was gone and he never came back.”

Dean closed his eyes. “So, I swore to myself, I swore,” he emphasized, “that I would never do the same. I would NEVER love someone like that and then lose myself completely when they were gone.” 

He shook his head again and opened his eyes to pin Sam with another glare. “I just won't do it.”

Sam sat, quietly nodding for a moment before his brow wrinkled in thought. “Hmm…” He took a deep breath and spoke as he exhaled.

“Do you love me?”

Dean stared at him for a heartbeat before a red flush began climbing up his neck as he answered in a growl. “What are you talking about?”

But Sam just waved away his brother's words. “Nevermind, I already know you do. You love me a lot.”

Dean continued to glare at his annoying little brother, not sure what to even say to that.

“And I know you love Jess and Lucy too. Also a lot.”

“What is your point Sam?” He barked at him, although he thought he'd started to figure it out.

“I know this too, though.” Sam continued without answering him, “If anything ever happened to me or…Jess, or…” He didn't seem able to finish the horrible idea, and Dean felt his stomach churn and his chest ache at the mere thought. 

But Sam pushed on. “If something ever happened, you'd never abandon the ones left behind. You'd never leave us on our own.”

Dean bit his bottom lip, feeling his throat ache from his trapped feelings. 

“Oh yeah?” He asked doubtfully. “And how could you possibly be sure of that?” He smiled without humor. “I am my father's son, after all.”

Sam shrugged. “That may be, but you're also just Dean, my big brother. And he's the most selfless man I've ever known.”

Dean scoffed, but Sam continued over him. 

“You've never put yourself first. Not while you were raising me. Not when you went toe-to-toe with Dad for me, so I could go to law school. Not when you worked a second job outside the business, so that you could pay my whole tuition when Dad refused to pay for it with ‘company money’ as he called it.”

Dean couldn't look at Sam any longer, dipping his head to stare at the wood grain in his desk as his brother continued to heap undeserving praise on him.

“And ever since you took over the company, you've always put your employees first, you take care of them, you work twice as hard as you need to, and pay them a lot more than other companies do, to make sure they can live good, happy lives. I've seen your books, I know it's true.”

“So?” Dean cut into Sam's diatribe, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Even if all of this praise was true, which it isn't, none of it proves that loving and losing someone wouldn't change all of that. Dad was a good man too, until he loved a woman and lost a woman.”

Sam tightened his jaw. “Maybe he was, but he was also a selfish bastard for abandoning us, for just going off to live alone with his grief and anger. You weren't even five years old, and you'd just lost your mother!” Sam huffed angrily. “He should have cared about that too. He should have cared about you, about us...not just the wife he lost.”

Dean's instinct was to defend their father, but he didn't. He'd begun to see that Sam was right; it had been pretty selfish.

“And I'm telling you,” Sam said with conviction, “if you and Y/N were lucky enough to be blessed with children, you would NEVER abandon them for any reason. Not ever. Because you. are not. our father.” 

Dean heard his little brother's words, and the freedom he found in them, surprised him. It felt like he could breathe deeply for the first time in a very long time. He felt a tear escape and he dashed it away quickly, turning his chair away from Sam and staring at the wall. 

After a moment of quiet, Sam spoke solemnly. "But none of this speculating about how you'd act IF you fell in love with Y/N really matters anyway. Because the plain and simple fact is, you're already in love with her.”

The words still made Dean's stomach clench, and he turned back to Sam and shook his head. “No, I refused, I wouldn't let myself love her.”

Sam rolled his eyes and breathed out harshly. “Damn! You really are a monumental idiot.”

Dean scowled at him, unimpressed with his opinion.

“Dean, you can't stop yourself from loving someone. You can't just control something like that.”

Dean felt the old, familiar panic start to rise in his chest. If he couldn't control it...if he really did love her already…then he'd already lost, and he'd never be free of her hold on him.

I don't wanna be free.

The intrusive thought leaked into his mind and he closed his eyes, trying desperately to deny it but-

“She's leaving.”

Dean's eyes popped open to stare at Sam. 

“What do you mean?” He asked quietly.

“She gave us her notice. She's leaving. Catching a train in a couple of days. That's why I came to shake some sense into you before it's too late. She's going west, says she wants to seek some adventure, but I know it's really because we're all just a constant reminder of you. She's been miserable this whole last month - trying very hard to hide it - but miserable.”

Dean felt a different kind of panic rising as he contemplated Y/N being on the other side of the country, living her life a million miles from his.

She'd get married to someone else - someone who didn't become paralyzed with fear at the thought of needing her in his life. He'd win her over, he'd make her smile, make her happy. He'd give her children; he'd be the damn compatible husband she'd always wanted, and give her the little cottage and respectable life she deserved. 

The exact life he'd told her to go and live just before he made love to her and then snuck out of the room before she woke, like a coward.

He looked at his little brother, desperate now for his help. “Shit. I walked away from her Sam. I left her a goddamn note cause I was too much of a coward to say goodbye to her face. Cause I knew if I spent another minute with her, I'd be so tempted to do anything she wanted, say anything she wanted, just to get her to stay. And I couldn't risk it.”

Sam gave him a scolding look and just shook his head.

Dean's voice was slightly forlorn. “What are the chances she forgives me for that?”

Sam shrugged. “Won't know till you try, coward.”

***

Y/N clutched the handle of her leather bag tightly, gripping it over and over, wearing it smooth from sheer worry. She recognized that traveling alone, to some remote California town she'd never been to was ludicrous and dangerous. But she just couldn't take it another day; she needed to get as far away as she could. 

Living with Sam and Jessica everyday, watching them in their happy, loving marriage, was simply more than she could handle. The fact that occasionally, when Sam smiled or frowned or laughed a certain way, a tiny piece of his big brother would appear on his face, well, that was just the knife in her heart that made leaving quickly a necessity.

So, here she was, on a bench on the train platform, waiting for a train to roll in and carry her away from endless reminders of Dean. But even just sitting on the bench reminded her that she'd first met him while she was sitting on a bench - on that cool day last fall, when he'd burned his way into her life, into her heart and then into her bed. Unfortunately, he'd also burrowed his way into her soul, and she knew he'd never leave.

Even now she imagined that she heard him calling her name over the screaming whistle of the steam engine that was pulling up beside her; it was the train that would take her away from everything she wanted to leave behind. Though she knew she'd never manage it completely.

Y/N frowned slightly as she looked up; she thought she heard his voice again. Was she truly going mad?

But then she saw him, running through the steam on the platform, coming towards her. She jumped up, completely confused, but somehow feeling like she needed to be on her feet.

“Dean?” She asked as he reached her. “Why are you…? What-”

Dean interrupted her. “Don't get on that train. Don't go. I have a proposition for you instead.”

Y/N felt her heart plummet. “Dean-”

“Marry me.”

Her words died in her throat and she just stared at him, her eyes bulging as she tried to work out what was going on.

“Oh,” she said almost sadly, “I've actually gone completely mad now.”

But Dean was shaking his head. “No, sweetheart, I was the crazy one. I was the one who thought I could simply wish away, or will away loving you, but I should have known it was never gonna work.”

Y/N returned to being simply speechless, eyes wide and staring once again, as Dean continued, his voice sincere and ardent.

“Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I didn't stick around to say goodbye. Hell, I'm sorry I even tried to say goodbye in the first place. I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to let myself love you, or admit to it anyway. Seems like I didn't really have much say in the matter. Apparently trying desperately to not love someone, doesn't actually stop you from loving them. Who knew?" He said with a lopsided smile and a shrug.

Still smiling, he took another step towards her and his voice was strong and sure. "But I'm mostly sorry that I didn't wrap my arms around you the very first time I saw you, and absolutely refuse to let you go.”

“That's actually kidnapping!”

Y/N whipped around to see Sam and Jessica standing behind her on the platform with Lucy between them. Jessica slapped Sam's arm for his sarcastic comment. 

“Shush. He's trying.” She waved at Dean and called to him. “You're doing great, champ! Keep going!” 

“Give her the ring, Uncle Dean. Ladies like rings!” Lucy shouted.

Y/N started crying and laughing in the same breath, and nearly choked. But as Dean nodded at his niece and got down on one knee, tears won out and she started crying noisily.

He gazed up at her with a soft smile and slightly glassy eyes. “I wasn't planning to do this with an audience, and I have a lot to explain to you, I know, about why I was such an idiot and how stupid I was to be afraid of loving you.”

“Quit reminding her she'll be marrying a moron!” Sam called out again, and Y/N heard Jessica smack him again. But she couldn't take her eyes off of the massive ring that sat in the velvet box Dean opened and presented to her.

It was a Tiffany's box, she noticed, and inside was a beautiful diamond ring, with a small round emerald in the very center.

“I love you so much, Y/N, and I know I don't deserve you, but please say yes anyway.”

“Yes!” She shouted, taking the box from him and then throwing her arms around his neck, letting him stand up and twirl her around, laughing with him through her tears.

Everyone on the platform clapped happily, as Dean kissed her. 

Sam covered Lucy's eyes but she pushed his hand away, clapping loudly at the little fairytale that had played out for her.

As Dean pulled back, he slipped the ring onto her finger and ran his thumb over her knuckles, before raising her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it, just like he did the very first day they'd met. It still had the power to make her stomach flutter.

“Do you like it?” He asked, touching the emerald in the center of her ring.

Remembering her prediction that emeralds would always make her cry, brought on even more of those predictable tears. She was happy beyond measure that she'd been both right and wrong about that.

“Yes, I love it.” She said as she kissed him sweetly and then gazed into his bright green eyes. “And I love you, Dean. So much.”

“Thank God. Just...just don't stop. Please?”

Y/N nodded. "Promise." She whispered.

Dean sighed against her lips before claiming them once again.

***

The St. Louis World's Fair. Spring 1904. 

“Lucy Winchester! You've had more than enough of that spun sugar now, come back over here and hold your brother's hand.”

Jessica ran after her six year old with her two year old in tow, until Sam grabbed him up and settled him against his chest. With her hands now free, Jessica grabbed a protesting Lucy away from the cotton candy cart.

Y/N laughed at her former student's frustrated little face and decided to try and help her sister-in-law out. “Luce come here; your cousin needs your help.”

Jessica let go of Lucy's hand so she could run back to her aunt and uncle. Y/N and Dean walked behind them a little ways, with their one year old, Melody, toddling somewhat unsteadily between them.

Y/N let Lucy take Melody's hand. “She loves walking with you and you're so good at showing her just how a real lady walks.”

Lucy beamed proudly as she immediately slowed her pace to allow Melody to keep up, and then walked very sedately to help her little cousin learn how to be a lady.

Jessica smiled brightly over her shoulder and mouthed, thank you to Y/N who laughed lightly. Dean reached over and took her hand now that it was free, swinging it gently back and forth.

Suddenly Y/N remembered Christmas day three years ago and how she'd imagined going to the World's Fair, and walking hand in hand just like this.

There were no cherry trees beside them and the crowds were fairly thick on the pathways around the fair, which meant they were jostled around a bit more than she'd imagined in her idyllic fantasy.

But the feelings she'd imagined back then were exactly the same. Family. Love. Belonging. She stepped closer to Dean and rested her head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand tighter.

He kissed the crown of her head and then whispered to her. “Happy, sweetheart?”

She looked up at him and gave him a mischievous smile. “Happier if you'd kiss me.” 

He pretended to be scandalized. “Mrs. Winchester? In public? In full view of the children?”

Y/N laughed happily, making her in laws look back at them and smile.

Dean leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “That's all my strict moral fiber will allow for.” He said in pretentious tones.

Y/N pouted at him playfully and he dipped his head to whisper against the shell of her ear, making her shiver.

“But Mel is sleeping in her cousins’ room with the nanny tonight. So later, in the privacy of our hotel room, I plan on kissing every writhing, shaking inch of your body until you -”

“Auntie!” Y/N was yanked back to reality as Lucy called to her, excitedly. “Melody said my name!”

Trying to ignore the raging fire her husband had kindled within her, Y/N smiled down at Lucy. 

“Well, I'm not surprised. She loves her big cousin.”

Lucy smiled widely before she dropped Melody's hand to run up and tell her parents her good news. Melody started to fuss over her cousin leaving, until Dean scooped her up to sit on his shoulders; then she squealed happily, thrilled to be up so high.

Y/N just watched Dean for a moment, her eyes watering slightly as she thought about how heartbroken she'd been on that Christmas day so long ago, when she'd believed this life was forever beyond her reach.

Dean looked down at her and she picked up his hand again, pressing close to him.

“I love you, you know.”

His beautiful green eyes were warm and overflowing with happiness as he bent his head slightly, holding Melody tightly so she didn't slip, and kissed Y/N senseless. Despite his earlier moral protestations, his kiss was slow and deep and it stole all the air from her lungs.

He pulled back from her and the look of love in his eyes stole her breath all over again as he answered.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead and spoke softly, for her ears only. "Thanks for teaching me how."

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Dean Fics Only:

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[lightlycareless]

Hi! As a Naoya fan, I really appreciate what you do for us and girl, I just love your works <33

So, Eh, I don't know how to say this... Can you write a fic about him where he has been married to a woman chosen for him by his clan but after so many years, he can't forget y/n? I mean, it's so cliché Ik, but I just can't get it out of my mind. It's like he really loved her and would've even eloped with her but at the end, it was y/n who asked him to go back to his clan since she knew that it was Naoya's fate to be the clan head. So, eventually y/n leaves and Naoya marries his wife and he gets to be the head of Zenin clan and later on, he kinds wishes his wife would give birth to a daughter so he could name her after y/n. Or maybe she does and while everyone expects him to torment the poor wife, he would silently pick up the baby and hug his daughter as if he wishes she was her baby?

so yeah, that's it, thank you anyway.

Hello!!!!!!!!

Omg thank you so much I'm soooo glad you like my work 🥹❤️

HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGH this ask has been on my mind since it first popped up jfc you know how to torture me.

I have been working on a small fic too with a similar topic, it's not going to be that long as my other work but I think you'll find it enjoyable too hehe. ... if I ever get back to it. heheheh.

ajkghasjgha anyways, let's get right into it.

warnings: angst. mentions/implications of death and unaliving someone :s. naoya is really cruel when referring to his unborn child.

Happy reading!

“If we ever have a daughter, I would like her to be named Naomi”

Is the first thought that crosses Naoya’s mind upon learning that his wife is expecting a daughter.

But beyond that, there is no excitement. No glee in his eye upon learning he’s to become a father in just a matter of months, his seed finally taking root after many dutiful attempts.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a cute name. And I always thought it was adorable how your family named the children after their parents. You are no exception, Naoya.”

He should be happy, right? Glad that his efforts ultimately paid off.

“That’s not too cheesy, is it?”

“…I think I’ll be happy just to have a family with you, regardless of what the baby is named.”

That he was to have the cherished family he always dreamt of having with the love of his life, after so many years of solitude…

Except he wasn’t.

Because his wife, the one carrying his child, wasn’t you.

…

…

…

Ever since he lost you, for a lack of better words, nothing has been the same.

“A daughter… of all the possibilities. Let’s just hope she’s strong.” His father would say, disappointed by the announcement. Naoya remains quiet, uninterested to respond but still deep in thought.

“Do you think they’ll look like you?”

“I hope not.”

“Gee, why not? I know I haven’t seen pictures of you as a baby, but I’m sure you were a cute one!”

Because I want them to look like you.

The sole purpose of his futile life was gone. And with it, any semblance of concern. Care for all that happened around him, or anyone for that matter.

Including his supposed partner, the woman the Zen’in assigned him to marry and continue their legacy. Even when she stood before him, seeking comfort, or at least encouragement after seeing the doctor, to Naoya… she was simply not there.

“Naoya-sama.” She’d call to him once in the privacy of their room, right after the doctor had left. The woman named Taeko, had always been… loyal, meek, submissive. Never one to retort or do anything that wasn’t to please him.

Yet, as much as she had fooled his family, Naoya was still able to see right through her.

Taeko didn’t care about him; no, not at all. The only thing she truly she cared about was the heir. The money that came along with his title, the financial security this meant for her…

More so now that she was pregnant; dictating that even when divorced, she would never have to work a day in her life.

Perhaps if he hadn’t discovered what love was, then maybe he would’ve struggled to discover her true intentions. Unfortunately for them, he had met you, with whom he learned what it was to be happy for once in his life… a teaching that will forever live on within him, naturally making this marriage almost impossible to coexist with.

As well as painful, remembering that this is all he had left of you, besides memories.

Naoya keeps quiet even when his wife calls for him yet again, not bothering to lift his gaze from whatever it was that took his attention, nor requesting her to proceed.

She takes his silence as her cue to continue.

“I know having a daughter wasn’t in the plans, but…” Taeko said, stepping closer to him. Just a few inches away from touching him… “I am still excited to welcome this new stage in our life.”

Of course she is. Her future is firmly set, regardless of his family’s ideals and the baby’s gender.

“I was actually thinking of naming the child after you, to follow your clan’s tradi—”

“You will not do such thing.” Naoya scowls, swiftly turning around and pushing her away, the burning look of his enraged eyes reveals she’s reopened a painful wound she’ll perhaps never comprehend.

Nor care to do so, believing instead that his anger came from her supposed failure to bring a male heir onto the Zen’in clan; and not because of the privilege—no, the right she’s stripping away from you.

Because you are the only one that deserved to be the mother of his children, the one to name them, love them, raise them…

Not this poor excuse of a leech.

“I heard you were having a child… congratulations, Naoya.” Ranta begins, partially unsure on how to approach the future father, or to do so at all… eventually settling to go through with it anyway. An announcement like this must make anyone happy, right? “Although I never expected your first child to be a girl! I mean… I always thought you’d have a bo—”

“This isn’t what I want, and you know that.” Naoya coldly cuts through Ranta’s words, making him flinch. “So, spare me the theatrics.”

Ranta swallows, he is amongst the few, if not the only, who knows the truth, the depths of his relationship with you:

Or your supposed fate.

And how angry he got when he knew the truth… or what he suspected, anyways.

Your disappearance wasn’t a simple coincidence, a misfortune of fate.

It was a necessity for the Zen’in’s plans; you quickly became nothing less than a hindrance once Naoya announced his intentions of marrying you.

They couldn’t permit a woman of your background to become Lady of the House. An unruly, opinionated girl that went against every single one of their beliefs. Nor could they allow you to free Naoya from their grasp.

And so, they did what was necessary. Get rid of their obstacle, call it a simple disappearance, cold feet as others assured, and let everything fall back into place.

Leaving Naoya behind with his cruel family, yet again.

But they’d never admit it. They would just say that your family decided to search for better opportunities elsewhere, you tagging along.

Yet, the body of an unidentified woman found in the middle of a forest near your home would indicate—

“—What are you going to do?” Ranta asks.

“There’s nothing for me to do.” Naoya frowns. “The only person I ever loved, the one person I should’ve never let go… is gone, and now, I’m stuck in this nightmare, alongside a woman that wants nothing from me but my money. Just like everyone always is.”

Ranta wishes to deny his accusations, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to his grieving friend. It would insult him, and you.

“…But…”

“But what?” Naoya retorted.

“…Well, you should at least… consider the baby. They—they shouldn’t be held accountable for what their mother has—”

“Don’t even dare call that thing my child.” He coldly declares. “It may have my name, but that thing is not mine. What assurance do I have that it is? She could’ve easily bedded anyone to get the job done!”

“Naoya! You— you shouldn’t say that!”

“Can you prove the contrary?”

“No—but it’s not right to make these assumptions either!”

“Then what do you suggest, dear friend of mine?”

“I… I think you—"

Have to let her go.

It becomes clear to Ranta how gravely he had underestimated the wound your absence had inflicted on Naoya’s heart—but perhaps he never wanted to admit such thing, for it would only remind his friend of what he once had and now lost forever.

But no matter how much he wished to act the fool, there was no hiding his heightened destructive tendencies, his aggravating isolation, which he already did with people he didn’t like, rising tensions between members alike, forcing them to steer clear of Naoya if they wished to live another day; or pester his father about the misbehavior of his son, forcing him to burden his wife with duties of cheering him up, or something if she wished to stay at the estate—

All for naught, for she had effectively ceased to exist the moment she announced her pregnancy. For the following 9 months, Naoya wouldn’t look her in the eye, even when sleeping in the same bed. Not that there were many opportunities to do so, for he eventually confined himself to whatever other room was available, officially dictating their marriage as unsalvageable.

Some took it as a reflection of his disappointment, a rightful reaction to have towards a female successor.

But Ranta knew better. Those close to him knew the truth.

He was openly reproaching his wife for having taken your place.

So naturally, he wasn’t there when Taeko went into labor. He wasn’t attentive to her calls, desperate pleads of companionship and support—he simply walked past her cries as she gave birth to his child and headed straight into the training grounds, just what he had exuberantly done these past few months to distract himself.

Yet, as much as he wished to run away from his reality, he wouldn’t be able to escape his duties, forced by relatives alike to go and meet the mother of his daughter to officially recognize her. Regardless of the brewing animosity between the two, if there were no other suitable candidates, this baby was still to be the future of the Zen’in, and thus, necessary to name.

Naoya doesn’t bother to wonder on who’d the child would look like the most, still, he knows he’ll hate it even more if she ends up a carbon copy of her mother—would it even matter if she took more after him instead?

Nonetheless, curiosity manages to get the best of him when entering the room where his wife and child awaited, walking past the midwives and straight to his so-called partner, leaning close to the small bundle wrapped in a white blanket, making up his mind in effectively cutting her out of his life if she ends up looking like Taeko.

But when he begins to get a glimpse of her small face…

The most unexpected happens.

As if the child knew her father was near, she slowly opens her eyes, revealing a golden gaze that reinstates her relationship to him—followed by a small patch of his black hair on top of her head, the shape of his eyes…

But most importantly, the words you once confided to him during the intimacy of the night.

“I want them to have your eyes. Your nose. Your hair. Your smile. I want the world to see all the things I love from you through our children.”

As well as your burning desire to have children that looked just like him, even when he hoped otherwise.

He doesn’t know what it was. Certainly not the excitement of having a life permanently intertwined with a woman he didn’t love; but something about your memory, how much you desired this moment, the innocence that engulfed such child, one that he only thought possible through you, his features shown through her, and how vulnerable she felt once in his arms…

Naoya found it unnecessary to wonder what kind of reaction you would have, still, he liked to imagine the brightness in your face, the love in your eyes, the grin on your lips: to be overjoyed to finally have a family with him, eagerly waiting to live out the future that waited for the three.

If this is the way you’d continue to live on, then he’d honor such memory; one last insult to the family that had continuously hurt him over and over again, through merits they would never wipe away, no matter how much they’d try—

“The name, for the child.” The midwife asks, moving closer to Naoya.

Under his own conditions.

“Y/N— Y/N Zen’in.” Naoya declares, softly looking down onto the child. “That will be her name.”

“Wh—What!?” The mother gasps, quickly understanding the implications behind his selection, followed by a futile attempt to make him reconsider, stop him from removing her existence!

But he had long erased her from his consideration, declaring that she was to have no relationship with the child, opting to raise her himself, his sole successor; Taeko would have whatever she needed to live a comfortable life, but that was it.

Naoya would give his daughter all that she needed to strive as a sorcerer, or whatever else she’d decide to pursue.

He’d swore to love her and raise her, protect her from the cruelties of this world, do all in his power to make her happy… but most importantly:

Treat her as if she had been yours.

Essentially, dunno if I managed to convey that, yes; you were killed. an act that scared your family away and left Naoya without knowing what ever happened.

Also, I'm debating whether to write a small epilogue hehe. I have written a bit extra after this but decided to cut it out.

AND OF COURSE the name... originally I was going to name his wife Kayako but I've decided to take advantage of the animosity we feel against the name Taeko and there you have it :))) 🖕 bye Taeko.

Ngl this was sad for me to write; I always hated/enjoyed the topic of Naoya marrying off someone else because of reasons, though it was clear he always longed for you and viceversa. Or not. I just like angst 😭 and fortunately, this isn't the last time we're going to see something like this :) I do have something I'm working on, I just gotta connect the dots. I intend it to be quite short anyways.

Anyhow, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! 😭 it was such a treat to torture myself with.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!! ❤️❤️

[fandomrose]

Furina post 4.2 reverse comfort.

Hi again. A Furina post 4.2 reverse comfort. I've been working on this for a depressingly long time.

There is implied spoilers but not many. This is also friends to probably, eventually lovers. Starting with the friends in this fic.

This is alot more angsty than the Neuvillette one. It does have descriptions of injury and disassociation. I drew on my own experiences with my own disassociation and helping others through theirs.

I really wanted to do one for Furina because I wish to hug the poor woman. She's been through too much.

I hope you enjoy 💙

You clutched bags filled with cooking ingredients. Ever since learning that your 'former' Lady Furina was living off of macaroni from a certain blonde haired traveller and 'talkative' flying pixie. You decided to pay her a visit, said flying pixie freely telling you where she lived.

Nerves coursed through you. It had been a few weeks since you had seen Furina. Since the prophecy had 'not' come to fruition your services as a private investigator for 'solutions for the prophecy' was no longer needed. And when Furina stepped down from her position as Hydro Archon you stopped seeing her. 

'Diva archon' is what people called her but you knew her better than that. You can't have claimed to be close but, you had seen glimpses of the hidden care and love she had for the nation she governed. True god or not you saw glimpses of all she sacrificed over your few years working under her. You had grown fond of her and the trail she was put through almost broke your heart. 

You steeled your nerves before knocking on Furinas door at just past midday. There was silence before you heard rustling, the unlocking of the door and it opened giving you the first look at Furina in 3 weeks. 

She had slight bags under her eyes, she looked thinner and her smile was not as bright as it used to be.

"Why hello, it's certainly been a while since I've seen you,-" she started off attempting the same theatrical countenance she had before but it quickly faded. "Why have you come here and how did you find out where I live?" 

The thought of her finding it worrying that you knew where she lived didn't cross your mind. "The travellers companion may have let it slip my lady." 

She sighed, "Please don't call me that any more just 'Furina' is fine." Her voice now sounded tired, a slight rasp of exhaustion present.

"Alright my- Furina... um," there was an awkward air between you two, one that you were determined to dismiss. "I was wondering if you would like to spend the afternoon in familiar company... I brought food if you'd like to have dinner."

Furinas eyes narrowed slightly. "Did Paimon also tell you that I was living off of macaroni."

You had somehow forgotten how sharp Furina was. "Yes.. but, but I didn't just bring food, I thought I'd teach you to make more dishes other than macaroni. Still quick, easy and involving pasta but different. Also baking bread. I thought it would go well with what we are making...." You felt yourself ramble, trying to convince Furina to give you a chance.

She looked like she was fighting with herself for a moment. You hold your breath waiting for a response. "Okay.. that sounds nice actually." 

You sigh with relief "Alright lead the way my- um- Furina." You watched as she flushed a slight pink before leading you inside. Her home was modestly furnished but well coordinated and clearly to her aesthetic taste. She led you through the short hallway and into her kitchen. It was up to Fontaine’s modern standard with an oven and hobs, a sink and a new cooling machine that was recently invented by the Fontaine research institute for the storage of Fonta, but had been later discovered to increase the shelf life of many different foods. They were currently very expensive however. You wondered how she was able to afford it with no job. Her shelves were almost bare however, it made you glad you came with ingredients and a few extra essentials. 

"Here you can put the food on the counter." Furinas gestured to the counter close to the oven. "What are we making?" 

You nod and pull the ingredients out. "I thought a cottage pie and some garlic flat bread would be a good start. I also brought the ingredients to make some simple crěpes for dessert." 

"Great ... I don't know how to make any of that, are you sure you want to bother teaching me?" 

"Of course Furina, why would I bring all this if not to teach you." 

"I guess you're right, so what are we starting with?" Her voice was hesitant, you begin to wonder if she was really up to this. What if you were pushing her too hard?

"Ah I thought we'd start by preparing the bread.."

You show her the steps of baking bread. She follows your instructions diligently, her smile broadening and confidence returning with every step she gets right. "This isn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Then again of course I could learn anything I put my mind to."

Seeing her smile again was all you wanted out of today. If you were being truthful with yourself. 

"Now we let the dough rest for about 45 minutes.. in the meantime let's prepare the potatoes for the mash that'll go on top of the shepherd's pie."

You teach her how to peel a potato with a paring knife. Or rather you try to. As she pulled back the knife her hand slipped on the potato and she nicked her palm with the knife, a long thin line of blood appearing on her palm. You were focused on your own potato when you heard her yelp in pain. You immediately drop the knife and potato you were peeling and rush to her side assessing the damage.

"Furina! What happened?" You gently grab her hand looking at the wound. "Where is your first aid kit?" She didn't speak, only pointed to a cupboard on the other side of the room, her eyes glued to her wound, pearls of tears collecting in the outer corners of her eyes and all you want to do is draw her into your arms. 

But first the wound, you gather the first aid kit and sit Furina down at the table in the kitchen and quietly bandage her hand. The cut wasn't deep, which was good, but she barely flinches as you clean the wound, which was a point of concern. You sense she's not up for criticism or questions so you keep things to yourself while you finish bandaging her hand. 

I take a deep breath and try to talk to her again now that the wound is dealt with. "Furina? Are you up for continuing or would you like me to take over?" She didn't respond immediately seemingly not even hearing you, you are about to attempt to get her attention again when-

"No. You- you take over." She sounded exhausted again, and almost defeated. Worry crawls through your stomach all the way up into you throat but you hold back for now. Not quite sure how to deal with this Furina.

"Alright." Is all you can say, softly as not to startle her. As you continue prepping the meal peeling the potatoes, boiling them in milk for extra creaminess and seasoning with salt and pepper. You start up another hob and cook the meat, frying off the fat before adding, flour, worcestershire sauce, a splash of red wine, tomato paste, chopped bell peppers and onions. While the mixture reduces you prepare the dough Furina made earlier, spreading a mixture of garlic butter rosemary and thyme over the dough and place it in the oven. 

You catch Furina glancing at you while you work. You turn off the heat on the meat and take some of it from the pan in a small spoon and carefully carry it over to her. "Would you like to taste test Furina?" She looked up at you in surprise before nodding slowly. You offer the spoon to her and she leans forward and closes her mouth around it without taking it out of your hands. 

A moment of silence, while you might usually feel flustered at this kind of action. But with Furina seemingly still out of it, not registering what she'd done, it was just concerning. You take the spoon away and turn around.

"Is it good?"

A tired "Yea" is the only response you get. It'll do for now. You finish off the cottage pie by arranging it in a dish putting the meat and veg mixture, then the creamy mash before sprinkling a generous helping of parmesan cheese over the top of the mash and putting in the oven for 20 mins. The bread is almost ready to take out and could make a good starter. 

You set a time and sit by Furina, slightly awkwardly, not knowing what to say. You'd been so focused on your tasks you hadn't realised how strange it felt to be around Furina in a casual setting and especially not when something seemed to be bothering her so greatly.

"Furina.. How's your hand?"

"It's fine, doesn't hurt much anymore."

Your concern was beginning to reach a peak. She couldn't look at you for some reason. And her voice was so weak it was barely there but you don't know what to do without crossing an unspoken boundary or making things worse. 

The bread timer goes off. You rise from your seat to take it out, putting it on a rack to let it cool for a few minutes. 

You look over at Furina, her form slumped and defeated looking, her eyebags somehow more prominent than when you started. You didn't understand what could have made her this way. Overall yes, you were there at her trial after all, at the end of it you were just happy she wasn't actually executed. But what happened today? Was it the injury? But why would that cause a near catatonic dissociation? 

You didn't want to push, instead you just cut up the bread and offered her a piece, on a small plate, in the hopes that some form of stimulation would reawaken her. She slowly picks at the bread, putting small pieces in her mouth. 

The second timer goes off. The cottage pie is ready, so you remove from the oven, find two large plates and serve the food.

She looks up at the food and picks up the fork, slowly digging in to the cottage pie. You watch with interest hoping maybe food would perk her up at least a little. And perk up she does. Finally a smile graces her face, small but there.

"This is lovely, thank you. Truly a meal worthy of the great Furina De Fontaine." She made an attempt at her energetic performance but was still tired it seemed. 

You smile at her in what you hope is a pleasant and reassuring manner. "Well my lady I am glad it's worthy of your greatness."

She laughed that same haughty laugh you'd grown to enjoy hearing even if it was a little strained with exhaustion.

"Would my lady enjoy some crêpes to cleanse her palette of savoury tastes?"

"Yes, a batch of crêpes sounds wonderful my humble chef." 

You stand and bow hoping this play was helping her recover from whatever state she was in. Turning to make a small batch of crěpes you don't notice the way she slumps in her seat.

You dust the crêpes in powdered sugar, lemon juice and fill them with cream and chopped fruit. A plate of two crěpes is placed in front of Furina with a smile. Your smile fades seeing her downtrodden look again. 

"La- Furina? Is everything okay?"

"It should be... but it's not" was her response. You watch as tears slip down her cheeks. She tries to quickly wipe them away. "Ahhahaha.. how silly, I don't know why.. an overflow of hydro yes it must be."

You walk round the table and stand by her. "Furina, you can tell me what's wrong. You- you don't have to hide anymore." 

It seems that small push was all it takes for her to allow herself to break. She turns and practically falls into your arms and sobs. "It was going so well. But then I messed up again. I really am useless" She cried into your arms, her sentences broken up by bouts of heartbreaking sobs.

Saying anything felt like a bad idea for now so you remove her hat and simply stroke her head while she cries into your chest. You don't know how long it takes but you patiently wait for her tears to dry and her sobbing to subside. Grabbing a soft handkerchief you lift her face and dab at her cheeks. You watch her eyes widen as if she realised she was actually crying into a living person rather than a plushie. 

"I- I-" 

"Furina, it's okay.. you aren't useless and you are still learning right. You have no idea how many cuts and burns on my arms and hands I have scars for just from cooking. Hahaha. It happens my lady. But if I may be so bold, it's not about the accident is it?"

You pause before speaking again, not wanting her to have any excuses you make sure to beat her to the punch.

"Have you mourned yet? Your status as an archon? Your position in Fontaines elite? Your friendship with Monsieur Neuvillette? Anything else I am not privy to."

It wasn't the most elegant way to put it. Some might call it cruel but she needed to confront this in order to move on.

You begin to regret your decision when you see Furina hang her head and cry again, much more subdued this time. You open your mouth to apologise but-

"You're right... I've been ignoring it all instead of dealing with it. I thought I could just move on, and 'improve myself' and everything would be okay."

She spoke so harshly of her own thoughts. You shake your head and sigh.

"Don't be mean to yourself Furina. Your only mistake was isolating yourself, but if I may be so bold, again, I'm here. And I want to help you, I've always liked spending time with you so I'd be more than happy to be your friend."

She began to sob again. "You want to be my friend? You'll stay by my side even when I'm like this.." 

"Yes Furina, that is what I want. As long as you want it to." You open your arms letting her hug you again. She was crying, but at least her tears were happy this time.

This was probably the start of something wonderful.

[radfemfessing]

I will metion Neil Gaiman here and what he did to other women, so if you dont want to read about rape and assault please skip reading this one. The first bi female celebrity I discovered and liked was Amanda Palmer. I was a young teenager then and thought I was a lesbian. When I figured out that I was bi some time later, I didn't have any issues with it, partly because I knew cool celebrity bi women like Amanda Palmer. I loved her music, I found her attractive. I really liked her. I discovered that I prefered girls and decided to only date women and had two wonderful relationships. I was raped by a man after my last one. Amanda Palmer was also raped and assaulted and talked about it in interviews and songs. It took time to heal but after some years, I wanted to date again, so I tried dating apps. I met some really cool bi and lesbian women. But I also encountered a few bi (and maybe heterosexual) women who were fishing for their male partners. One time, I almost got raped by a man again because of one of them. One time, another bi woman confessed her love to me and made out with me only to reveal that her partner wanted to fuck me. One woman sent a picture of me to her male partner to determine if her having sex with me would turn him on. All of that hurt a lot. I stopped using dating apps a few years ago and have just been meeting women organically through shared interests or in real life. I just read an article about Neil Gaiman and the horrible things he did to a lot of women. His ex wife, Amanda Palmer knew about most, if not all of it. She sent him pictures of a young woman she had sex with and basically gave her away as a toy to her husband. I can't really describe what I'm feeling. I am not shocked because I never liked Gaiman and a lot of his work basically tells you what kind of person he is. I can't be shocked over what Palmer did either because she was with this man for years and found him attractive in the first place. I think it makes me feel more empty than upset. I didn't listen to her music for years, I don't think I even follow her anywhere on social media. Sometimes I maybe hum "map of tasmania" to myself in the shower. I think a tiny part in me was still a teenager who put her, at least as an artist, on some kind of pedestal. She is just like one of those women from the dating apps now. Disappointing. It makes me glad that I never followed in her footsteps with a lot of things, that I am gender critical and that I chose to only date women. Not sure where to go with this but I wanted to get this off my chest.

🥧

[taesnix]

hear me out: Connor and Mitchell but have their first proper interaction be going on a quest (3rd quester is Lou Ellen because I need more Lou Ellen + Hermes kids shenanigans content) to retrieve a special conch shell that requires the cunning and craftiness of a Hermes and Hecate kid and a connection to the sea that only an Aphrodite kid has. Percy offers them a few pointers on sailing but after that, they're on their own.

not sure what exactly the quest would entail but at one point they stop by a port town and Connor steals a bunch of pearls from an extractor. Mitchell reasonably panics a bit when he finds out because oh gods barely a day in and he already has to charmspeak someone into forgiving and forgetting them but Lou Ellen discovers that the extractor was doing detrimental damage to the sea life, so not being able to profit off of the pearls and harming the business is actually perfectly alright in her books.

Connor: perfectly alright, you say?

Lou Ellen: yeah, why allow some assholes to make money off of animal abuse?

Mitchell, seeing the glint in both of their eyes get brighter: ... sigh. Fine, I guess we can fit ruining their operation in today's itinerary.

They go haywire. Lou Ellen works the mist to give them more cover than usual, allowing Connor to have his fun completely messing with the extractors by setting up (relatively) harmless traps and stealing a little more with each passing second, while Mitchell distracts and deflects any concerns the extractors have

One of the extractors: oh, uh, yes! I can definitely show you where we keep the metal pliers, it's somewhere in the back. Let me just—wait, where the hell are my keys?

Mitchell, leaning in heavy with charmspeak: I think you left them near the back door, right? We can just go there now.

Exactor guy: ... yeah, of course. I always do that, easy access you know? Follow me.

And when they reach the door, Lou Ellen knocks him out and Connor unlocks it, a silver set of keys appearing in his hand seemingly out of nowhere. He winks when he catches Mitchell staring.

The rest of the quest follows pretty much the same: with one of them getting sidetracked and the others jumping in to "have a little fun", as Connor likes to put it. They eventually find the conch shell and return to camp, a little wounded but a whole lot closer.

As soon as Connor is let out of the infirmary, he dashes to the Hephaestas cabin. Mitchell is curious, but no one seems to know anything. Lou Ellen just cackles like a madman when she hears. "Ha, he was so antsy for most of the quest. Glad he's able to do something about it now."

Mitchell has no idea what on earth she's talking about, which takes him more off guard than he'd ever thought it would. Because he really believed that him and Connor had become close friends after everything they'd gone through. And surely, he would’ve known if Connor had something else going on. But apparently not. And Lou Ellen did.

And so what if it makes something burn in his chest? To know that Connor is keeping something from him when he thought they'd passed that hurdle long ago. To have that one conversation under the stars, afloat at sea, just drifting calmly and releasing their worries to the wind, that meant so much to him, not hold that same weight?

So what if he had feelings for Connor?

Mitchell doesn't sulk, because an Aphrodite kid will always retain most of their pride in the face of rejection, dammit. Connor seems to be—not avoiding him, but a little distant than he'd grown familiar with, and it hurts a bit. He can admit that.

It isn't until a few days later that there's a tentative tap on his shoulder after lunch and Mitchell turns around to see none other than Connor Stoll with a face so red, Mitchell is genuinely concerned he's going to pass out.

Mitchell: Connor? Are you okay? You look like you're going to explode or something.

Connor, fiddling with something in his pocket: ah ha ha, um, well. I have—something. For you.

Mitchell, completely taken aback: what? For me?

Connor: yeah, I— uh, I had to ask Nyssa for some help and then I had to go steal—I mean, borrow another one of yours because I wasn't sure how many to use and Nyssa wouldn't stop teasing me even though it had to fit perfectly—but t-the point is! This is for you.

And carefully, he pulls his hand out from his pocket and opens it. Laying gently in the center of his palm is a pearl bracelet. It's beautiful.

Mitchell: wait, are those...?

Connor, fingers tapping restlessly and somehow blushing harder than before: the pearls I stole on the first day? Yeah. I saw them on that boat when we were pulling up to the harbour and I just—

He pauses to let out a low, quiet breath, as though steeling himself.

Connor: I noticed your weren't wearing your favourite bracelet when we left for the quest and Lou Ellen told me that it took some damage from the lava wall the other day and you were heartbroken about it— so, I figured... well, you deserve something as beautiful as you.

And Mitchell is just speechless. His heart is pounding so loud and he melts on the spot because it's the sweetest thing he's ever heard and Connor is the sweetest person ever and gods, it was all for him?

Both of their hands are shaking as Connor helps Mitchell with the bracelet's clasp. And of course, it fits perfectly. Snug but not tight, a comfortable weight like it had been there all along.

Connor begins to pull away but Mitchell grabs his hand properly before he can. With hesitant maneuvering, Mitchell interlocks their fingers. The pearl bracelet subtlety reflects the light from the sun, making it look like it's glowing between them. Mitchell softly gazes at Connor, who tentatively matches his smile.

Mitchell: I love it, I really do. Thank you so much, Connor.

Connor: I'm, I'm really glad you do.

Mitchell: I want to take you somewhere. Follow me?

Connor: of course, anywhere.

So Mitchell leads Connor to his favourite spot near the strawberry fields, where there's enough shade under the sturdy tree but still bright and alive with the sun. Somewhere where they can once more lie down and hear the distant waves, free to drift off calmly and release their feelings and dreams, not just worries, to the winds, side by side.

They run into Lou Ellen on their way there. She takes one look at their intertwined hands, the new bracelet around Mitchell's wrist, and she lets out a triumphant whoop!

Lou Ellen: oh let's GO!!! Connor Stoll, bless your little heart, Cecil owes me 10 drachmas now!

Mitchell: huh, so I'm guessing you knew about this?

Lou Ellen: Mitchell, sweetheart. Every time you looked away, he had the worst case of lovesick puppy eyes I've ever seen. I thought it was bad at camp but this guy was clearly holding back. And I had to put up with Solangelo getting their shit together first-hand.

Connor: wh— I— wait. Did Cecil bet against me? Also...Solangelo?

Lou Ellen: Will and Nico, their last names. And Cecil didn't think you'd ever get the guts to properly talk to Mitchell after the quest, never mind enough to give him the bracelet. I, on the other hand, am familiar with what the sheer powers of long time pining can do. Also, having to stare into each other's eyes for like, 5 minutes while holding the conch shell pretty much sealed the deal.

Connor and Mitchell, now BOTH bright red:

Lou Ellen, snapping her fingers with a wild grin: hang on! Connor, Mitchell, conch shell... holy shit maybe this was fate.

And that, folks, is how Conchell came to be.

[legacyshenanigans]

A part 3 to this

(I mean I didn't expect to make this a little thing but you guys seem to want it 🙂 So I don't mind carrying on this little AU story I've got going on)

Sebastian out of Azkaban

It had been close to 3 months now, since Sebastian had been staying with Garreth. He was feeling some normality in himself again, thanks to Garreths aid, and was back on his feet. Garreth sat at his dining room table, enjoying the morning sun coming through the window, Sebastian wandered downstairs after getting ready, Garreth looked over at him.

Garreth: Morning! *smiles*

Sebastian: *small smile* Hey.

Sebastian wandered over and sat at the table with Garreth, also turning his head to take in the sun and sighed.

Sebastian: I feel good for the first time in a long time..

Garreth: Thats great, Pal *warm grin*

Sebastian: Thank you, Weasley. Again, I don't know what to do to make it up to you.

Garreth: Naah, you don't have to thank me, and you don't have to do anything *smiles* Got everything I need, I was happy to help you. You're my friend.

Sebastian: *smiles* It means alot, truly.

The two sat for a moment, Garreth narrowed his eyes slightly at Sebastian, leaning forward in his chair.

Garreth: Are you ready to talk more about Ominis?

Sebastian ears perked up just hearing his name. this journey that Garreth had taken him on made him do a lot of thinking, he'd forgiven, and he felt some peace, and understood why Ominis and MC did what they did, though it was hard.

Sebastian: I think I am..You havnt told me much.

Garreth: I thought it would be too painful..

Sebastian: It would have been, but I'm ready.

Garreth: Well..I havnt seen him in a while, but we keep in touch. He doesn't live too locally anymore, not far though. And he doesn't know you're here, but he knows you're out of Azkaban. He wrote about it in his last letter to me.

Sebastian: ....I see. I hope he doesn't hate me..

Garreth: He definitely doesn't hate you, Ominis really struggled, Sebastian. After you got sent away, he wasn't himself. He hated it, but he knew it was the right thing to do for YOUR own benefit, do you understand?

Sebastian: I do..I do NOW anyway..It was awful in there..But, I think I needed it, Dark magic was taking over my mind, my soul, everything *sigh* I was angry and clouded when I first got out, wanted to find him, of course after I tried to find Anne first, the night you found me outside that bar, I'd just been drinking, after discovering she'd died...

Garreth: *nods his head in sympathy* I've wanted to talk to you about all this stuff..But my main focus was just getting you normal and stabilised, I didn't want to bring up anything that may have caused pain, and you never said anything, so I left it be.

Sebastian: I know, and I appreciate that. I just hope Anne knows, wherever her soul is, how sorry I am.

Garreth: I'm sure she does, mate. *warm smile*

Sebastian: Yeah *sits for a moment* So, Ominis? Married? Kids? How is he?

Garreth: He's good, lives a nice peaceful life, not married, no kids, but he's happy.

Sebastian: I'm glad he's happy. I'd love to see him.

Garreth: Well..When I last sent him a letter, I asked if he'd like to meet, he's going to be in the gardens in Hogsmeade later today, that's where I told him to meet me..Are you truly ready Sebastian? Have you forgiven?

Sebastian: Yes, I have, honestly! Oh my god *big genuine smile* I've, missed him, so much.

Garreth: Then we'll go together, Leanders coming too, but me and him will wait at The Three Broomsticks while you go and get Ominis, yeah?

Sebastian: *smiles and nods his head*

Garreth: I can trust you, right? You really are OK?

Sebastian: Gaz, you've helped me massively, I really am..I'm ok. *thankful smile*

Garreth: *warm grin* Good..

Later that day, after giving Sebastian a pat on the back, Garreth and Leander made their way to the Three Broomsticks from the town centre, as Sebastian wandered towards the gardens his heart was in his throat seeing his old friend, Ominis sat there on a Bench under a tree, looking prim and proper as always, Sebastian couldn't believe it, he was so overwhelmed with emotion seeing Ominis, his lip was shaking as he approached, standing in front of him. Ominis looked up, knowing a presence was there.

Ominis: *smiles* Garreth?

Sebastian: ....

Ominis: Garreth? Is that you? *stands*

Sebastian: Ominis..

Ominis let out a small sharp gasp, both of them frozen solid for a moment, before Ominis reached out, his breathing shakey as he felt Sebastians face, Sebastian looked at him, a tear falling down his cheek.

Ominis: S-Sebastian?

Sebastian: *sniffles* Ominis.

Tears started to stream down Ominis's face as he grabbed Sebastians' shoulders.

Ominis: Sebastian, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

Sebastian: *starts crying himself, pulling Ominis in for a hug* It doesn't matter anymore, it's ok..

Ominis: It..Its no OK..It was never OK *hugging him back* Oh Sebastian *cries more, holding his old friend*

Sebastian: Ominis *clinging to him* It's so good to see you again.

The pair sat on the bench for a while, chatting. Sebastian told Ominis everything that Garreth had done for him and his emotional journey.

Ominis: *sigh* Garreth is an angel for that.

Sebastian: Really is, heh. Oh God, I'm so happy to see you. You look so well..I'm glad you can't see me *chuckles* I aged like damn milk in that place, you've aged like a fine wine.

Ominis: *chuckles* Oh shush..Sebastian, I can't tell you how happy I am, I'm so glad you've forgiven me for the decision I made, because I never truly forgave myself for doing that.

Sebastian: The past is the past, I just want to look forward now *smiles*

Ominis: As do I, old friend *smiles*

~

[storiesofsvu]

Solace in Solitude Ch 9

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, sexual conversations. guys... we're so close. SO CLOSE!

The barrier had been broken and routines began to shift around the apartment as the two of you continued to get comfortable with each other. Emily started staying out in the living room when she would hear your alarm go off on work mornings, she’d time it just right so that the coffee was hot and fresh the moment you got out of the shower. You’d usually brief through your day with her, go through any surgeries you had, especially if you were worried about something. She took it all in and always asked the right kind of questions that helped your brain work around the issues, and you were impressed with just how well she understood most of it.

You’d come home to a quiet apartment while Emily slept, drop your stuff off and then head to the gym most days to make sure you weren’t waking her up, so she got proper sleep. Dinner was usually ready as soon as she was getting up and the two of you would be able to eat together, usually on the balcony as the sun went down. You’d had life chats, tell old stories, stupid jokes, laughter filled the space rather than tension. Emily knew just how to get you to tell a story about your childhood, something relating to family or your mom without you realizing what she was doing, and in turn it was never a sad memory. You discovered Emily was a whiz at poker, but you were the breadwinner when it came to blackjack, that she preferred paranormal horror movies, and you were the one that always cried over cheesy romantic comedies.

There was finally starting to be a balance between the two of you, she wasn’t snarky because you were her doctor and thus caretaker anymore, and you didn’t have to babysit any longer. You took care of each other, Emily holding up her end of the deal by always making sure there were home cooked baked goods to snack on while you made sure vegetables made it into dinner. Emily made the promise to only smoke if you were also smoking, which rarely happened but there was the occasional night that you were having a rough go and needed more than a glass of wine to help cope with everything and there was nothing wrong with that.

**

You were in the kitchen getting breakfast ready, surprised that Emily hadn’t been in the living room when you’d gotten up that morning. But it would make sense that she just got tired early and decided to marathon tv in bed instead so she didn’t fall asleep on the couch. You were about to toss her breakfast sandwich into a container when the coffee machine beeped loudly and a few seconds later she was coming out of her room.

“Shit…” she muttered under her breath, “sorry. I thought I’d wake up when your alarm went off.”

You looked at her curiously for a moment before your lips twitched up into a smirk, “did you just sleep through the night?”

She stilled, an almost guilty expression on her face, “uh… yeah.” She laughed softly, “guess having to get up early with you to go into the hospital kinda fucked my daytime sleeping thing up.”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, pulling down an extra mug to fill with her coffee, “so I take it the new med adjustment is working?”

“How’d you know about that?” She asked, stepping into the kitchen to accept the steaming beverage and you chuckled.

“I’m still your doctor. I took a look at your scans from yesterday and with that came your file.” You grabbed another plate from the cupboard, putting the extra sandwich on it, “glad it’s working. You wanna eat outside?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, “thanks. And uh, another question for you.”

“What’s up?”

“PT said I should bump up my activity now, and I kinda liked getting out in the morning, the city’s quieter. Do you think it’d be okay for me to tag along with you on your way to work more often?”

 “Yeah, of course.” You replied with a smile, “it’s a lot nicer to not do it alone.”

“You’re a life saver.” She let out a breath, “and I wouldn’t like, follow you around at work or wait for you or anything, probably just grab a coffee and wander back here.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t even want to see another hospital again.” You replied back with a laugh, relief washing over you when she laughed even harder, shaking her head at you as she picked up her plate, nudging you toward the balcony.

Emily liked her new morning commute, even if it wasn’t starting her workday, it gave her something to do, a proper reason to get out of bed and a way to feel a bit more like a real person again. Most days she’d split off from you a few blocks from the hospital before picking up a coffee or tea to do her people watching in different areas of the city. She’d meander around as the shops opened, checking things out and usually pick up a lunch on the way back home from a local vendor. If she found something she really loved, she’d pick it up again the next day and drop one off at the hospital for you, her way of saying thank you, and apologizing for being the worst patient and roommate you’d ever had.

**

On days that you didn’t work, the two of you avoided the metro at peak times, opting for lazy mornings with later breakfasts and extended cups of coffee. Some days you played tourist, checking out the sights of the city, other days you just wandered around together. On the rare occasion you had more than three days off in a row you were able to rent a car and head outside the city limits to explore a little bit further.

Some days Emily would join you at the gym, eager to get herself back to the shape she was in prior to everything going down. While she knew it would likely take more than a few months, she had to start somewhere, focussing on strengthening what her PT from the hospital said and taking it up a few notches higher. She did prefer to just use the time you went to the gym to work out at home, she wasn’t the gym type, never had been, but she couldn’t exactly store everything she needed in the small, shared space.

On lazier days, days you were too tired or unmotivated to do anything sometimes Emily would wander alone, some days she would keep you company while you showed her your favourite movie series. And some days, you ended up down the road at one of the smaller pubs where you could swap out the usual wine for cocktails and pretend like you were being social with other people.

Which was exactly where you were tonight. A basket of fries sitting between the two of you on the bar top while you sipped on drinks. You were seated at the shorter side of the bar, parallel to the space behind the bar, partially so Emily could have her back to the wall and partially because it gave you both the full view of the room. While chatting with the bartender or watching the sports game was fine, you’d both discovered that watching the other patrons was more entertaining.

“It’s got to be a full moon or something.” Emily muttered; her eyes fixed across the room.

“People are particularly wild tonight.” You replied, snagging another fry from the basket.

“I honestly thought that guy was gonna get a glass to the face.”

“It’s what happens when you hit on someone else’s girlfriend like that.” You replied with a shrug, “he was relentless.”

“And the girl’s boyfriend was twice the size of him, what’d he think was gonna happen?” She laughed, pulling one from you as the bartender came over to check on you, offering another round of drinks that you accepted.

“God I can’t believe I used to be that young and dumb. I couldn’t even imagine doing half the shit we’ve seen tonight at our age.”

“We’ve turned into spinsters.” She replied dryly, “it’s honestly amazing we’re out of the house on a Friday night anyways.”

“Yeah but I’m far too lazy to make my own mojitos.” You paused to thank the bartender for the refill, taking a hefty swig.

“I’ll drink to that.” She tilted her glass toward you and you clinked it with yours. “This group at ten o’clock?”

“Yeah?” Your eyes scanned through the room, following her direction until you found them.

“Girl in the pink’s been getting hit on by green shirt and blue shirt all night. Who’s she going home with?”

“Hmm...” Your lips wrapped around your straw for another sip as you surveyed the situation, spinning your own theories onto things, watching the group dynamics.

“Green shirt’s managed to get pretty touchy without any shying away.”

“Yeah but he’s buying her drinks, I’d put up with the flirting for free shit too. Besides, blue’s hotter.”

“You think?” She looked over at you and you shrugged.

“I’m mean, I wouldn’t fuck him, but if I had to pick between the two of them…” you gestured vaguely towards him and Emily tilted her head in recognition.

“He’s too shy.” She muttered, watching the man in blue, “doesn’t have the balls to flirt with her when green’s around and he doesn’t care who sees.”

“Yeah, but that’ll pay off in the long run.”

“How?”

“Green’s a partier, a fuck boy, he may be flirting with her but he keeps eye fucking everything with a pulse when he thinks she’s not looking. Nice guys don’t always finish last, ya know.” You teased with a smirk and she scoffed, “besides, look at the scar on the back of green’s leg.” Emily’s eyes flicked to the back of his knee, “that’s fresh. I’m sure he’s supposed to be wearing a brace but thought it wasn’t cool, he’s probably still on the painkillers. He’s what?” You eyeballed him for a minute, “5’8’’, 160? With the amount he drank in the last hour, he’ll be three sheets to the wind in the next twenty.”

Emily pulled her gaze away from the group, surveying you for a minute as she took a sip of her drink and then let out a huff, “fuck, sometimes I forget you’re a doctor and you can do shit like that.” You laughed, “my money’s still on drunk-y.”

“Alright.” You replied with a grin and the two of you laughed before distracting yourselves with another group to people watch.

It was almost exactly twenty minutes later when Emily’s eyes circled back over to the original group and she let out a quiet swear. The girl was sitting in a separate booth from her friends, next to blue who had his arm against the back of the booth. Green was attempting to dance with another girl, stumbling so hard the bouncer was already on his way to escort him outside.

“Fuck.” She glanced up to the bartender who was halfway through a conversation with you, “put her next one on my tab.”

“Huh?” You glanced over to her and she nodded in the direction she’d been looking and you burst out a laugh. “Told ya.”

By the time that round of drinks had been finished, blue had made his move and the two of them had yet to stop making out across the bar.

“Jesus Christ.” Emily muttered, “they really don’t care that they’re in public, do they?”

“They’ve gotta come up for air sometime.” You replied and she laughed, “god...” you sighed, your elbow dropping onto the bar top so you could prop your chin up in your hand, “to be that young and just not give a shit….”

“Oh I remember the days.”

“Fondly?”

“Most of the time they make me cringe, I won’t lie. Half of it was likely just to piss off my mother.”

“They really are going to town…” your brow furrowed, “is his hand up her skirt?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Good for them.” You huffed, “lord knows it’s been ages since my last good make out.”

“Yeah?” Emily raised a playful brow, “how long.”

“Well…” you chewed on your lip for a moment, “my ex and I broke up like…almost a year before I moved here...”

“A year?!” She exclaimed, “wait… how long was I under for?”

“Just shy of a month.” You replied, taking another sip of your drink, “got here early March.”

“October is next week!”

“You don’t have to remind me.” You stated with a laugh, picking up the shot Emily had ordered earlier and throwing it back.

“Okay, but relationships fizzle out, you stop having sex near the end of them, sometimes for months. Please tell me you at least had a couple hook ups after that.”

“Nope. Too heartbroken, then too busy with work.”

“So how long for that?”

“I don’t even want to think about it.” You chuckled, “this conversation is making me feel very shrivelled up but the saving grace is that I know you haven’t touched a soul in at least eight months so I feel a little better about that.”

“Glad I could be of service.” She laughed, saluting you before signalling for another round, “you know, there’s a sex toy shop that’s open late around the corner, you could pick something up.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, “that one of your weekly shopping destinations?”

Emily scoffed, “no! And in my defence, I thought it was a lingerie boutique, figured since I don’t have anything that’s actually my style, I might want to pick something up. Went inside and nope, dildos, everywhere. And a very awkward conversation with the clerk.”

“Yeah? What’d’ya buy?” You asked with a grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Emily teased you right back, laughter filling the space between you as the bartender placed down another round of shots.

**

You were sitting at the breakfast bar, laptop in front of you and completely unaware that Emily was already out of the shower.

“What’re you looking at?” She asked, the tease very present in her voice and you jumped, practically slamming the laptop closed.

“Nothing.”

“Oh c’mon.” She laughed, flipping it back open, “it’s not like I didn’t already see, I watched you click through three options.” You felt the heat creeping up on your cheeks as she braced herself on the counter, hand half wrapped around you as she peered over your shoulder. “Why bother ordering online, just go to that shop.”

“Well after the raving review you gave I figured an in-person sale might be incredibly awkward. Plus the wrapping isn’t usually discreet and then you’d know exactly what I’d bought and I don’t need that.”

“Did you seriously move across an ocean and not bring any with you, or are you one of those girls who just doesn’t use them?” She asked, her hip coming to lean against the counter as her arms crossed.

“I moved to Paris for an indefinite amount of time, of course I brought some.” You deadpanned, “but it’s just weird to even think about doing anything when you’re in the house, I’ve lived alone so long I usually don’t think about it.”

“Have you seriously not touched yourself since March? No wonder you’re so pent up.”

“You were in the hospital for a long time…”

“Right.” She nodded, understanding what you were getting at, “still… grab a toy, use it. I’ll go out for a drink tonight.”

“That’s still weird though!” You laughed, “then the entire time I’m trying to get off all I’m thinking about is the fact that you’ve purposely left the house and are sitting at some bar wondering how long it will be til you can come home cause you’re thinking about me touching myself. And that’s not gonna help me.”

“Okay, so I’ll start leaving the house more randomly when you’re home.”

“Don’t bother.” You sighed, your chin finding a home in your hand as you redirected your gaze to the computer screen, clicking back a page to see more options, “the vibe died back in April and I’m not big on using the dildo myself, only when it was attached to the ex.”

Emily smirked, suddenly caging you into the counter from behind, “it doesn’t have to be her wearing it.” She laughed, “I can confidently say I know my way around a strap.” Her breath was hot on your ear when she spoke and you nearly choked on air at the tone in her voice. Her fingers brushed across your lower back as she moved around the island, “What?” She raised a brow.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, not daring to look up from the screen.

“Really?” She turned around, pouring out a fresh cup of coffee, “seems like you’re a little flustered, that’s all.” Turning back to you she took a sip, watching the way you shifted in your seat, almost uncomfortably before she barked out a laugh, “I’m kidding!”

“Jesus christ.” You swore, throwing a pen in her direction.

“You should have seen the look on your face.”

“I hate you…”

_________________

@momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @kalixxh @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen men @tommyriddleobsessed @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @originalbrunettecharacter @elz-artzzz @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @nachofriess @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx

[lifegoeson-wecarryon]

A rereading of Carry On, by an amnesiac: Log 1

(Or, I guess, ARROCOBAA. Chapter 1-2)

Carry On by @rainbowrowell saved my life— but I don’t remember Carry On, or even my life. So, now that I’m finally able to start picking up the pieces, I’m seeking the solace of an old friend. I am not sure if these logs will reach anyone else, but at the very least I hope it can reach myself.

x | x | Next Log

· · ──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ──── · ·

Opening my copy, I’m not sure what edition this is. There is a quote that I know is important, but I don’t remember the context. “You were the sun... And I was crashing into you.” This page folds out to reveal a map. I recognize some of the location names, but I don’t know their significances. The goats in The Hills Beyond make me smile.

I close the map and flip the page, there’s some reviews but I see ink bleeding out from the other side. I flip.

“Carry On, Simon!

Rainbow”

I used to go by Simon. It is the name attached to this blog, but I don’t know how I got a book signed by the author. Although, it made me immediately smile to see it.

I don’t know why I keep hesitating to go past the Book One page. Some part of me is afraid of what I will find, but another yearns to discover what’s behind those gates that are shown in the artwork.

I need to stop stalling. I’m just gonna do it.

· · ──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ──── · ·

Chapter 1: Simon.

I don’t know why reading the first page made my heart start aching. It’s all introduction stuff. I had to take a break after to stop and think.

The mention of the mage, that made me really upset. What did he do? My head keeps saying ‘he was like your father.’ That makes me think the mage treated Simon very, very badly.

Writing that out calmed my heart, so now I can get back to reading.

Chapter 2: Simon

There’s a line in chapter 2 that sticks out to me, ‘I’m the blade. The Mage’s sword.’ It makes it seem like Simon is being used by him. Could have just said the first line, and it would have made sense. My heart aches again, and I still don’t know why.

I understand Simon’s thoughts about the mage, and the familiar pain that oozes through his words. Talk of spending time, acting like you’re caring and loving, only to send you away each chance you get. I’m starting to understand my previous attachment to this book.

The Insidious Humdrum feels familiar too, but Simon and Penny are talking about him as if he’s the enemy. I don’t know why, but this feels… odd, though I can’t explain it. I can just tell there is more to the Humdrum, something I want to understand. And I feel that at some point I did understand, and that’s why reading this segment is odd to me.

Simon is making a list of the things he missed. Making lists is something I do too, it’s really helpful to me in the exact way he describes— helping ease into whatever the list is of so it doesn’t overwhelm you.

Sour cherry scones! That made me remember something, it’s been a while since I’ve had some. There was a time when I was so excited to see an international food aisle with Aero bars, and then running to the bakery to find some cherry scones. They didn’t always have sour ones, but I liked the regular too. I don’t know how, but I can taste it in my mouth right now. It’s a nice, nostalgic feeling.

It’s funny how ‘roast beef’ got replaced by Penelope on the list. There’s a part about how when he met her, he was surprised by her name due to her skin tone, and when she asks what she should be named he thinks of names that feel stereotypical. She informs him, ‘Someone like me can be named anything.’

I feel like this is good to highlight, Simon understands in the future his impression was wrong and knows he was being stupid. But that’s the thing— he was young. There’s a lot of stupid things you say when you’re young that you don’t realize were wrong until later, that’s what feels realistic. And I’m glad he had someone like Penny to help him learn that you shouldn’t assume anything about a person based on what they look like. Because she’s right- everyone is unique and can be named anything, and they can do what they want with their hair. People aren’t just what you see on tv, as the lens of media especially in regard to different kinds of people can be very inaccurate.

I’m raising my eyebrow a little at him talking about the football pitch only to lead up to talking about Baz. I get the feeling he’s gonna bring up Baz a lot, unnecessarily. I only vaguely know what happens with them, so it’s silly in an endearing way that this starts so early in the book.

How does the Watford dressmaking department know how much he’s grown to get him the perfect clothes to fit? Kinda weird!! (It’s probably just some magic thing.)

I was amused at him saying they could wear capes and was COMPLETELY caught off guard by him saying he looks like a tit. I am suddenly reminded that this book uses British slang. I’m sorry I didn’t make the connection yet, I am a silly little American!

Simon mentions the Mage again, and my amusement dissipates. It hurts how Simon phrases some things, because I can feel his pain personally. I can understand when he says he put the Mage on his list when he was younger, and has wanted to take it off many times. The pain of being ignored, trying to defend it by saying ‘but he still takes care of me, and when he’s there for me, it’s good.” But the way he speaks, Simon is still hurting. The Mage shouldn’t be there ‘when he does have time for me’. The Mage is someone who took him under his wing and is supposed to guide and care for him, someone who is the closest thing to anything he has. The Mage should make time for him. It’s one thing to be a provider— but Simon is right, the mage is not his dad. I understand why I latched onto Simon, because that’s essentially how I was feeling, wasn’t it?

I’m noticing that I can easily and happily read through the book until they bring up The Mage. When that happens, everything starts to hurt. But sometimes you have to hurt a little so you can heal a lot, so I’m pushing through.

I don’t really know who Micah is. Did the fandom just not really talk about him? I know through my rereading of my fanfics, there’s a lot of background characters because when I hyper fixated I want to bring attention to the little guys. But I don’t think I’ve written about him like that, is he more relevant later or did I just not care for him?

He says when he’s alone, magic is his burden. But going to Watford, it’s just the air they breathe. I feel like I can say the same about a few things, and that makes me feel seen even more than Simon’s character already does.

Oh, Ebb! Seeing her name makes my heart light again, is she a really good one? She must be with the way Simon is talking about her.

I feel like I had someone in my life like Ebb, and why do I get the feeling the more I think about it, that both didn’t make it when I reached the end of the book?

The next page is kinda whiplash? I get a chuckle out of ‘Fuck the wavering wood.’ and then BOOM. RELATIONSHIP DRAMA.

I feel like there’s way more to that story, but I understand the conclusions Simon makes on his own through his emotions and just by the sheer fact he can’t learn anything else about it. · · ──── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ──── · · This post is getting long, so I'm going to end this log here and continue in another. This is the most personal I have ever allowed myself to be, and I already feel lighter because of it. I doubt anyone will actually get this far, but if you have-- thank you for listening. I was struggling for a long time, broken long ago and feeling as if I would never find out how to put myself back together again. But something like that doesn't have to be forever. Wounds are able to heal no matter how deep they are-- I know mine are starting to, especially with my 'old friend' here beside me.

[coralhoneyrose]

Oooh I am so glad you let me know that I missed the last chapter of Half Orange! This one was so good! You covered a lot of ground and a lot of tonal shifts, but it all flowed really well. And I think ending where you did, with Emm's death, was perfect--I've been DREADING it for ages but this felt like both ripping the bandaid off and setting things up really well for the fallout. UGH and of course Chrom now being the heir will only make Robin more convinced that they cam never be together. Grrr badly-timed sleepiness!

There were also a ton of really funny parts in this one! I actually cackled out loud at the "hair" bit. Good for you Chrom you discover those kinks <3 Also Chrom being a too-obedient prisoner, only to start wiggling when reminded--hilarious. And his first impulse, when the fighting started, was to head-butt a grimleal? Perfect, 100% in-character that's our boy lol

Also "she is shipwrecked looking into his eyes" is gorgeous aahh

Anyway loved this but am already wincing at how painful the next one is going to (probably) be. It hurts so good! 💔

Oh yay!! I’m so happy you had a chance to read and that you enjoyed the chapter! Or, well—maybe enjoyed isn’t exactly the right word, but you know what I mean LOL. Emmeryn’s death is SO pivotal in awakening, so the fact you felt the chapter navigated the emotional shifts well and that the ending worked is really reassuring—thank you so much for saying that <3

Glad to hear you got a kick out of those parts :D I do love the idea of Chrom, in the middle of this very tense life threatening situation, finding himself vaguely turned on by Robin getting a little rough with him and just sort of having to go “that’s something to unpack later” agshfk. As for the head-butt—I watched Ever After with a friend shortly after getting into Chrobin and there’s this scene where the prince gets disarmed and adapts by just like punching / tackling the guy he’s fighting. My friend called it Chrom-core and I’m pretty sure I’ve wanted to work in a scene like that ever since haha

Oooh I’m so pleased you liked that line, thank you!! 🥰 Honestly even more honored now that I started your fic and have seen just how lovely *your* prose is :D (more extensive praise forthcoming once I’ve had a chance to read chapter two and sit down with my laptop <3)

As for the next one…not sure if it’s reassuring or not to hear I am also wincing right along with you at the prospect of all the pain to come :’) we’ll get to a happy ending eventually though! Thank you for reading and for all the kind words 💕Very much love hearing your thoughts on the story and am sincerely grateful to you for sharing them ^-^

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (12/24/2024) Episode: Talking It Over

Noemi’s heart ached at her son’s tears. She wished she could hug all his problems away, but hugs alone could only help so much. “I don’t have all the answers” she finally said “but I’m here to listen and help if I can. Why don’t we go chat in the living room and see what we can figure out together?”

Skye nodded. Xe was still afraid of talking but holding everything inside recently had been much worse. Once they were settled, she turned to xem and asked “So, tell me what’s going on. Maybe start with the accident, just get it out of the way.”

A dam seemed to burst inside as Skye relived the details of that night, including the heartbreak that had sent xem running blindly through the woods.

“I thought for sure Elyse would accept me, but she didn’t, and it hurt so much. I just wanted to get away, but she started following me and I panicked. Please don’t hate her mom, she helped me, though I don’t understand why. She clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me now…” Skye sniffled “but what if she hadn’t or what if something like that happens again and I’m all alone!? I don’t want to die!”

Skye barely paused for breath before continuing “I don’t want everyone to think of me as a boy anymore, but what if they won’t listen or laugh when I tell them my new pronouns? I don’t want my grades to drop but this…” xe held up xir bandaged arm “makes everything so much harder. I hate feeling so useless, I hate how much everyone has to help me, even if they say they don’t mind. What am I supposed to DO mom!?”

Noemi wasn’t sure where she should begin.

The details of Skye’s date night made her flash back to all the times Kiana had so easily and unwittingly hurt her with her lack of understanding, how hard it had been to deal with the rejection of things that were important to her.

Finally, she sighed, forcing her mind away from her own past regrets to focus on what she could do about her child’s current distress.

“I’m so sorry that everything is so hard right now” she began “But first and foremost I want you to know that your father and I support you completely.”

“You can tell him whenever you want, and I’ll let you in on a little secret; he saw this coming. If you have a kid of your own one day, you’ll find that you spend a lot of time watching them. Cheering for them as they discover life’s joys and crying for them as they run into problems you can’t help them avoid. We saw you struggling with gender, but we can only try to help you feel safe and loved, not protect you from the whole world and yourself.”

“As for the rest of it, I don’t hate Elyse; I’m so glad she was there to help you. I don’t know why she reacted that way at first, but I’m sure she’ll tell you about it later, when she’s had a chance to come to terms with the surprise and is ready to talk. You need that time to find your own way, too.”

“We can brainstorm some more ways to work around your injury without depending on so much help,” Noemi continued “but from what you’ve told me I really think what might be even better for you is a safe space to talk about your feelings and how to deal with them.”

“I know you haven’t been interested in therapy in the past, but I really think it would be beneficial to discuss all this with a professional. Will you consider letting me setup an appointment for you?” She sat back, hoping that Skye might finally be willing to give therapy a try.

Hearing her be so supportive lifted a huge weight off Skye’s chest. If she and their dad could accept them, no questions asked, then maybe others would too. I don’t even have to tell anyone else on my own if I don’t want to Skye sighed, thinking of how much easier it would be to face xir close friends and their parents with xir own parents standing by their side and helping break the news.

As for therapy… Skye shuddered, imagining what a professional would say about the tangled mess inside xir head, but xir injury had made it all so much harder to deal with and xe needed help. Xe knew deep down inside it was time to finally address head on the feelings xe had spent so much of xir life fighting against.

“OK, I’ll try therapy, but only if you come with me… at least to start.” Xe finally answered.

“Absolutely!” Noemi replied, overjoyed that Skye was willing to let her setup an appointment for xem “I’ll look into that first thing tomorrow. For now, though, how about we see about getting you back to bed? You need your rest to heal. I’ll lay with you, if that will make you feel better.”

Skye nodded, following her back to their room and letting her tuck xem in. As she observed xem struggle to find a comfortable position for xir injured arm Noemi told xem “you’re going to have a cast for awhile; we’ll figure out something to make sleeping with it easier for you too” before settling in herself on top of the covers on the other side of the bed.

Skye breathed deeply, releasing all the tension of the nights earlier horrors, xir mother’s comforting presence lulling xem back to sleep.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕊𝕝𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @hayillaaaaaaa @miguelito-maruti-blog @ravenmoon903

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Somehow when Emu said she wanted to show you something cool on top of a big mountain... you expected it to be some cool rock she found or something like that! Not... a weirdly customized sled... Seems you underestimated her again, huh?

You were looking at her with this deadpanned look, wondering what's it this time she thought of and who did she this time got into her antics... or maybe it's you and you simply don't know it yet?

"Emu... What's this?"

"It's a sled!!"

You sighed to yourself gently at her weird excitement over sled as she sat down on its front.

"I can see that. I meant... why's this decorated like that?"

"Rui helped me customize it a little!"

That's the moment your eyes went wide... Maybe you don't know that guy personally, but you heard enough about him to know it can't be a normal sled after he touched it...

"What... did he do...?"

"There's the fun! I don't know!"

You honestly wanted to scream right now... but somehow that excited look on the girl's face made you think it may not be as bad... You really had too much of a soft spot for her...

"What do you mean you don't know?!"

"It's a surprise for us to discover!"

"Well this- Wait... Us?

Realization hit you all of a sudden as you looked at her and the space behind her... This slide definitely could fit 2 if not 3 people at once... So you WERE the one getting dragged into her antics after all!

"Mhm! You're curious too, right?! C'mon! Let's see how Rui did!!"

Your mind was telling you to just go back the way you came here... But your curiosity? It made you sit right behind her, get your feet on wood and arms around her. Even saying what you wouldn't id you were thinking rationally in the first place!

"Let's go."

"Yayyy!!"

She wasted no time as the second after your words, you were already going down this mountain... And you began feeling effects of what that Rui may've done to the slide...

"Emu... Did he add some speed boost-?"

"I think so! Wohoo!"

Emu was actually cheering and having fun as the slide went by many others, swiftly making every turn! Meanwhile you were clinging to her and the slide for your life, trying to not scream in terror as you realized what you're doing with your life...

"(I forgot to tell my mom I love her... And my grandma how much I love her food... And I got an F yesterday... And-)"

Your process of saying goodbye to this world in your mind was interrupted by a shaking. You were sure an angel came for you but... it was way too energetic and had pink her... So of course you were quick to realize you're still alive and it's just Emu...

"Y/N WAKE UPPPP!!!"

She was shaking you panickly, clearly worried that something may've happened to you just now.

"I-I'm awake, stop shaking!"

As you announced tour consciousness, the shaking indeed stopped! But you were met with other problem... now she was squeezing the life out of you with a hug!!

"I'm so glad!! I was worried I went too SWOOSH-WOOSH and that you may've gotten BLEEE..."

"What- No, no! I just had... hard time believing how fast we went..."

It was honestly putting lightly "I was scared for my life" in your eyes... But she doesn't need to hear it, right? Especially when she visibly began calming down as her grip relaxed.

"Really? So you wanna go again?!"

You could never say no to that shine in her eyes... But it's not saying no if you move it to later, right?

"Maybe... We can get hot chocolate first?"

You threw first thing you saw at her, hoping she'll agree and forget about sledding for now... And luckily, it seemed to so the trick!

"Oh yes! Hot choco! Let's goo!!"

She then excitedly took your hand and sprinted towards the stand offering hot drinks. She may be short but she certainly was a fast one...

"H-Hey! Slow down!"

But it still was better than experiencing that terror again, no? After all, she can't do anything risky when she's drinking something hot!

"I have an idea! Maybe we can drink it while sledding?"

"Oh god-"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ 2024 ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴀʟᴇɴᴅᴀʀ

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Cherry Magic (Thailand) - final thoughts

So this is where I confess I still haven't seen the original Cherry Magic (*ducks thrown fruit*). I know, I know! It really hasn't been on purpose, I just happened to get into BL at this very particular time where I was starting to catch up on quite a few recommended watches, and then we got this firehose of new content, and now I'm just eternally behind (good problems, I know).

All that to say that when the initial trailer came out, I didn't have any baggage from feelings about the previous one, so I kinda just ignored the complaints and thought it looked super cute and fluffy. And it was!

What I loved:

This show had such A+ casting. I love Tay & New. They're good individually, they're good together, they have great chemistry, and are fantastic actors. I was so glad to see Junior again after he was so stellar in Midnight Museum - playing a very different character, he has great range - and I like that they had tested his and Mark's chemistry there first, so they already had a good level of comfort here. And I adore Jan & Sing as well, so always happy to have them on screen.

I adore that this show prioritized showing healthy communication. People were willing to talk about things. Achi telling Karan about his mind-reading was so good. When things went wrong, like their first date, they would talk about it afterwards. The miscommunication trope is one of my most hated, because I have gotten to an age where I just strongly feel that no one has time for that kind of bullshit. And this show agreed with me!

Also the scene where Karan's sister gives feedback to their mother about how she's treating Karan was incredible, and if I have time at some point, I want to talk about how she nailed all the key elements of sharing feedback in a way that will encourage someone to truly hear it. (I know a lot of people don't like to hear this because it's easier to call people dumb or tell them to "shut the fuck up", but if you actually want to change minds, this is how you do it).

Getting more of an exploration of queer life at an older age, having to navigate your work and friends and families as you discover new things about yourself. We joke all the time about the glut of university shows, but seriously, that's a time that is well past for so many of us, and it means something to delve into more adult life.

Relatedly, I also really identified with Achi both as someone who is demi, and as someone who's realized things about my identity at a much later stage than most. It was nice to have that kind of representation.

The theme of what healthy love can bring to our lives. Most of the show is focused on romantic love, but I love that the platonic love and support also plays a very large part. We don't want to be dependent on others to feel good about ourselves and what we are capable of, but the support and caring of others can often be really important in being able to take that next big step, or to see something in yourself that you didn't even realize was there before.

Anyway this show is marshmallow fluff in visual form, and getting both this finale and Perfect Propose finale on the same weekend has left me with many warm fuzzies on my insides.