#so now this is what he looks like god bless

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Peek-a-boo?

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive content MDNI

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff

Summary: You and Felix live on the topmost floor of your buildings - apartments facing each other, with long windows giving a glimpse into each other's lives. And then one day, everything changes.

Clueless Masterlist

Every evening, Felix saw the most beautiful girl in the window opposite to his. You lived in the apartment facing his, in the building opposite to his.

He didn’t know he believed in angels, until you showed up at that damn window, all soft light and effortless grace, and he became a devout believer. But those floor-to-ceiling windows in your bedroom seemed to be your favorite place because he saw you there a lot. Looking so peaceful as the breeze kissed your skin and the city lights illuminated your face.

He told himself to stop. That you were just a stranger. That this window obsession was not normal human behavior. But every time you stretched by your window or gave him a soft smile, Felix felt blessed.

And then, it happened. 

It was a normal night. Felix had just finished a shower, steam curling around him as he stepped out, a white towel hanging low on his hips. He was drying his hair with another one. 

Completely normal. Until it wasn't. 

Because of course, God had favorites and Felix definitely wasn’t one of them, apparently. You were standing by the window as usual. Your eyes met. Felix didn't even know what had happened until it was too late, and the towel around his hips was already on the floor.

For a solid three seconds, you froze. You didn’t mean to look. You really didn’t. But it happened so fast that your poor, innocent eyes bore witness to everything.

A choked sound clawed its way up your throat. Your hands flew to your face as you spun on your heel, bolting so fast from the window that Felix swore you left behind a cartoon dust cloud.

And Felix? Felix quickly covered himself with the towel in his hand, his heart pounding so fast. 

"NO. NO, NO, NO, NO"

---

Felix: GUYS I’M MOVING TO ANTARCTICA. IT WAS NICE KNOWING Y��ALL.

Chan: What? 

Hyunjin: What did you do?

Minho: Leave your key under the mat.

Jeongin: Wtf happened? 

Felix: I FLASHED MY NEIGHBOR.

Felix: MY WINDOW GIRL. MY ANGEL. THE LOVE OF MY LIFE. SHE SAW EVERYTHING.

Seungmin: define everything

Felix: Everything everything. 

Changbin: bro what do you mean you flashed your neighbor??

Jisung: Oh Lord 💀💀

Felix: MY TOWEL FELL. SHE WAS RIGHT THERE. OMG. 

Hyunjin: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Chan: Oh my god.

Felix: AND NOW I HAVE TO FAKE MY DEATH AND ASSUME A NEW IDENTITY. OMG.

Hyunjin: You just gave your crush an exclusive, VIP, free-of-charge viewing of your whole ass body and you think you're suffering??

Felix: YES I’M SUFFERING??

Jeongin: Nah bro I think she’s the one suffering.

Felix: I AM GOING TO CRY.

Minho: Pack your bags.

Seungmin: It was nice knowing you. 

Felix: I’M NEVER SHOWING MY FACE AGAIN.

Hyunjin: Imagine running into her 😁

Felix: SHUT UP.

Changbin: Bro ur gonna have to move.

Felix: I KNOW.

Jisung: Idk man. she might’ve liked what she saw. 👀

Felix: HAN JISUNG I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS.

---

You were disintegrating. No. Worse. You were ascending. No. Even worse. You were being violently ejected from the mortal plane.

Because you had just seen your hot, ridiculously beautiful neighbor - on whom you had the biggest crush - completely utterly naked.

Your soul had left your body the moment his towel hit the floor. It was probably somewhere in another dimension, floating through the galaxies, forever lost. 

And his eyes - those big, brown, Bambi eyes - had gone so wide, so shocked, so horrified. Oh your heart did weird flips. You were never recovering from this. Ever. 

Felix had spent the entire night buried under his blankets, contemplating his life choices while the boys absolutely tore him to shreds over this incident. 

He had spent the entire next morning aggressively gaming to forget everything (it didn’t work). He had spent the afternoon avoiding every single window in his apartment. 

And yet. And yet.

When the evening rolled around, when the sky turned a dusky shade of orange and the city lights flickered on… he couldn't help it.

He looked. He had walked into his bedroom, and his eyes fell on the window, and he took a peek. His brain told him no. But his dumbass heart said yes.

And there you were.  Beautiful as ever. But your face? Murderous. You were arguing.  

Your phone was pressed to your ear, your free hand waving wildly as you went off on whoever was on the other end of the call. Your brows were furrowed, your lips moving rapidly, and your whole body was tense. 

Felix froze. And Felix was turned on. So damn much.

How did you look this good while yelling at someone? How did you manage to be so breathtakingly hot when you were this angry?

And unfortunately for him, you turned and looked straight at him. 

Felix panicked, and flinched. Instead of playing it cool like a normal human being, his reflexes betrayed him in the worst way possible. He was just trying to run, but tripped over his own feet - legs tangled, arms flailing.

His entire body went crashing onto the floor. For a second, he just lay there, praying you didn’t see that.

But of course you did. The phone was off your ear, and you were looking at him with concern on your face and Felix just wanted to die. 

---

Felix: I JUST FELL FLAT ON MY FACE. 

Felix: IN FRONT OF HER.

Felix: SHE WAS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME.  

Felix: I AM NOT OKAY.

Hyunjin: LMAOOOOOOO

Jeongin: HAHAHAHAHAHAH 

Jisung: At this point, I don't even know how you do this. Repeatedly. 

Seungmin: Hold on. HOLD ON.  

Seungmin: You got caught staring at her AGAIN?

Felix: IT WASN’T ON PURPOSE.

Minho: You are an embarrassment.  

Felix: I AM IN DISTRESS.

Felix: SHE’S SO HOT WHEN SHE’S ANGRY I WANT HER TO YELL AT ME.

Minho: Yongbok. This is not how I coached you.

Jishng: Oh please. This is exactly how you coached him. Striptease and simping. He did just that.

Hyunjin: Omg, LEE KNOW?!

Minho: 😑

Hyunjin: Do you need me to send an ambulance?

Jeongin: No, he needs a one-way ticket to the underworld at this point.

Seungmin: SHE HAS SEEN YOU BUTT-ASS NAKED AND NOW SHE’S SEEN YOU FACEPLANT INTO THE FLOOR.  

Seungmin: Wow. You're even worse than Jeongin at this point.

Jeongin: Excuse me, my girlfriend will Osotogari you into another dimension if I say so. 

Seungmin: Try me.

Jeongin: 👊

Felix: Why am I like this 😩 Why does God hate me?! 

Minho: He doesn't hate you.

Minho: He’s just trying to humble you. 

Felix: I AM HUMBLE ENOUGH.

Jisung: Are you though. 

Hyunjin: Just confess at this point bro wtf. 

Felix: CONFESS WHAT??? 

Jisung: THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HER. 

Felix: I DON’T EVEN KNOW HER.

Chan: Bro.

Minho: You know the exact times she gets home every day.

Jeongin: You literally talk about her all the time. Jisung: AND YOU JUST ADMITTED YOU THINK SHE’S HOT EVEN WHEN SHE’S ANGRY.

Felix: Bye. 

You had resisted Jennie’s invitation at first. Because it's already a trap that your best friend lives in the same building as him. But you were not going to run into him after the two disastrous days you've had.

“No. Absolutely not.” You said, shaking your head.

Jennie's face was so close to the camera, you could literally smell her through the screen. 

“Why?” Jennie asked. "Why are we on video call? I live right next door!"

“Because the hottest man I’ve ever seen lives there, and I -”

Jennie squinted. “Uh huh. It's never stopped you from visiting before. You’re lying.”  

“Am not.”  

“You are. Spill.” 

“I might have accidentally seen him naked -”

“EXCUSE ME?” Jennie shrieked. 

You waved frantically, trying to talk over her shrieking, “NOT ON PURPOSE!”  

“WAIT, WAIT -” She pointed at herself. “You saw a naked hot guy and you didn't tell ME?!”

You sighed. “Yes.”  

Jennie’s jaw dropped.

“WHY HAVE I NEVER MET THIS GUY?!?”  

“I'm hanging up!”

“Oh my God, chill! SO VIOLENT.”  

“I am not running into him. You can come over anytime you know.” You said, glaring at her. 

Jennie rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, come on. What are the odds you’d run into him?”  

You hesitated.  

Jennie had a point. You wouldn’t randomly see him, right? 

---

Fast forward to now:

You sprinted for the elevator just as the doors were closing, because you weren't going to climb ten floors to Jennie's apartment. 

You barely made it. And the second you stepped inside, you locked eyes with him.  

HIM.

You felt every single one of your brain cells exit your body. And he didn't look any better. In fact he looked seconds away from climbing the walls like a feral animal. You had never seen a man so close to death before. 

But your mind? Your first thought? Oh. He actually looks nice in clothes. Like you've always seen him in pyjamas, or hoodies (or absolutely nothing). But he actually looked so good in his jeans and black t-shirt and the leather jacket. 

Ok, you needed to leave. Immediately. So you turned, trying to make it out before the doors closed. It was funny how they slid shut right on your face. 

The silence was even worse. Crippling and suffocating.

---

The doors slid open on Jennie's floor, and you were about to step out, but there stood Jennie.

Why the hell was she standing there? 

Her eyes immediately landed on you.  Then on Felix. Then back to you. You don't know what she saw on your face, because her eyes narrowed.

“IS THAT HIM?!”  

You jumped and slapped your hand over her mouth. 

“SHHHHHHHH.” 

Jennie’s eyes screamed, as if to say, “OH MY GOD IT’S HIM” 

The elevator doors closed again, and Jennie said, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME HE WAS THAT HOT?!”  

“JENNIE WHAT THE FUCK?!”  

“Oooohh, you like him!” Jennie smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You swung you bag at her and she escaped narrowly with a squeal. 

---

Felix: I WAS IN AN ELEVATOR WITH WINDOW GIRL.  

Jeongin: OH. MY. GOD.

Hyunjin: LOL 

Minho: WHAT ARE THE ODDS????

Felix: ZERO. THE ODDS WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ZERO.

Chan: LMAO 

Jisung: Felix, this is destiny  

Hyunjin: Did you talk?

Felix: NO. I WAS TOO BUSY MALFUNCTIONING

Changbin: Did she say anything?

Felix: NO. She tried to escape but the doors won that round. 

Jisung: STOPPPP 

Hyunjin: NOT THE ELEVATOR BETRAYING HER🤣  

Minho: So much potential

Jisung: Ask her out, you coward. 

Felix: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP 

You felt bad. Because the poor guy has been repeatedly traumatized for no reason, and it felt absolutely unfair. So you decided to be mature about it. 

Your knees wobbled at the thought of talking to him face to face. So you had another idea. 

---

Later that evening, you sat by your window as usual (waiting). 

There he was. Felix walked into his room, stretching, and then froze when his eyes landed on you. You quickly picked up the little white board you'd ordered just for this (dramatic yes, but this was a dramatic situation). 

He watched curiously as you wrote something on it quickly, and held it up for him.

I’M SORRY FOR WHAT HAPPENED.  

Felix blinked, completely surprised. And his face turned a cute pink. And then he did something that made your heart flutter. He smiled. A soft shy one.   

Felix watched, his heart pounding so fast as you started writing again. Then, you held it up. 

DO YOU WANT TO GET COFFEE WITH ME?

Felix.exe has crashed. His crush, his dream girl, just asked him out.  

Felix scrambled. He looked around his room for something and came running back with a book and a marker. 

 YES. YES. HOLY SHIT YES.  

You snorted as you saw his reply. Then he wrote again. 

I’M FELIX.

You grinned, quickly scribbling back.  

I’M Y/N. NICE TO MEET YOU FELIX!

You watched as he smiled softly, his cheeks still pink.  

AND YOU. CAN I PICK YOU UP TOMORROW?  

Your stomach flipped. This was actually happening. Really really happening. You bit your lip, then quickly scribbled. 

7PM?

Felix beamed and nodded, with the biggest, dorkiest smile on his face.  

---  

Felix: HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

Hyunjin: WHAT WHAT WHAT?! 

Jisung: HE’S HAVING A STROKE I CAN FEEL IT.

Felix: SHE JUST ASKED ME OUT.

Changbin: YOU’RE LYING. 

Seungmin: LMAO

Jeongin: And and and?!? 

Minho: SHE WHAT.

Chan: SAY YES. SCREAM IT. 

Felix: WE HAVE A DATE. I’M DYING. OMG.

Felix: SHE JUST ASKED ME OUT THROUGH A FUCKING WHITEBOARD.  

Jisung: WHY IS THAT SO STUPIDLY CUTE! 

Hyunjin: NOT THE WHITEBOARD CONFESSION!

Jisung: EVERYONE SHUT UP. LIXIE HAS A DATE! 

Hyunjin: Gotta say, you have the best story to tell among us

Minho: And here I thought Hyunjin was the most embarrassing among us

Hyunjin: Obviously it was Jeongin for being thrown around by his girl

Jeongin: Well excuse you, Jisung nearly peed his pants when he wanted to ask HIS girl out

Jisung: Please. Guess who stripped for forgiveness? Um, not me? 

Minho: I DID NOT STRIP FOR FORGIVENESS!

Chan: Amatures. All of you.

Changbin: You didn't even know that your fiancee was literally carrying your child and ran around wailing that she didn't love you anymore. Oh my God.

Chan: CHANGBIN!

Seungmin: He's got a point, ya know

---

Felix was obviously so stressed. Because he wanted this to be perfect. And suddenly, everyone was giving him dating advice. And none of it was remotely useful. What's new. 

---

Changbin: Bro you gotta flex. Show her those arms. 

Felix: WHAT.

Chan: Yeah, mate. Roll up your sleeves, make the veins pop.

Felix: Omg  

Hyunjin: He'd literally pop a vein and then we'll actually have to send an ambulance. 

Jisung: Accidentally brush fingers when you pass her the coffee. Totally innocent. 

Minho: ALPHA MALE STARE. Look her in the eye. Don't blink. 

Felix: I’M GONNA GET ARRESTED.

Jeongin: Drop something, and pick it up slowly so she sees your back muscles.   

Felix: She has unfortunately seen way too much muscle to last a while 😵‍💫

Hyunjin: OK. SHUT UP EVERYONE. FELIX. JUST BE YOURSELF.

Jisung: YEAH. BE YOURSELF. BUT HOTTER. 

Felix: 🙄🙄🙄  

The date was in an hour. And Felix was barely keeping it together. His entire apartment looked like a crime scene, with outfits thrown everywhere, his hair was still wet from the shower.  

---

Felix: I'm so nervous, my stomach hurts

Jisung: It's a good nervous though? 

Hyunjin: You can do it, Lix

Changbin: REMEMBER. SHOW HER THE VEINS. 

Felix: OMG 

Chan: Don't worry, she likes you. You like her. It'll be OK!

Seungmin: Just be yourself, make her laugh. 

Jeongin: If you're nervous, just sit there and look pretty 🤷‍♂️

Jisung: NOOOO HE NEEDS TO DO BOTH. LOOK PRETTY AND BE CHARMING.

Felix : I’M SWEATING. I’M ACTUALLY SWEATING.

Hyunjin: GO WASH YOUR FACE RN. AND FIX YOUR HAIR.

Felix: I LOOK LIKE A DROWNED RAT.  

Minho: Great. You're ready.   

Felix: I AM GONNA THROW UP.

---

But he does go and get you some flowers and meet you at the entrance to your building. He was fidgeting, checking his reflection in his phone camera for the 100th time when you walked out.

Felix froze for a second because you looked like a dream. And for once Felix felt like the universe did love him. Because it gave him you. 

You grinned and held your hand out.

“Hey, Felix.” you said, and Felix quickly shook your hand, before giving you the flowers. 

“Thank you,” You said, and his entire brain short-circuited.

He was so fucked.

---

Felix: WE SHOOK HANDS. I’M DEAD. BURY ME.

Jisung: A HANDSHAKE??? YOU FORMAL ASS IDIOT. 

Changbin: BRO YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HUG HER NOT INTERVIEW HER. 

Felix: I’M IN LOVE.  

Hyunjin: OMG DON’T BE A SIMP. 

Minho: TOO LATE. 

---

The date was perfect.  Felix had never been this happy in his entire life. You were amazing - you laughed at his jokes, teased him mercilessly, and your eyes? It was on him the whole time. 

Felix was literally in heaven. 

You even let him walk you home.  Stood side by side in the elevator, unable to hide the smiles on your faces.  And then you stopped at your door and glanced at him, eyes sparkling with something mischievous.  

“Maybe next time,” you mused with a smile, “I’ll invite you in.”

Felix nodded dumbly - he would have nodded to anything you said to be honest - his entire body heating up. 

Next time. You said next time. You wanted a next time.

You laughed softly at how dazed he looked, and then leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. A little too close to his mouth. A soft lingering kiss. 

And when you pulled back a little bit, Felix chased your lips with his - it was almost involuntary, like he had no choice but to close the small gap.  

And then his lips caught yours in the most perfect kiss of his life. Just long enough to drive him insane, but not long enough to satisfy the absolute hunger suddenly roaring inside of him.

When you pulled away, your breath fanned against his lips and your eyes flickered with mischief. You were both grinning like idiots, blushing so hard.   

You bit your lip, taking a step back and whispered, “Good night, Felix.”

He barely managed a choked, “Good night,” before you disappeared into your apartment. 

The second your door clicked shut, Felix sprinted.

---

Hyunjin: WHERE TF IS HE.  

Jisung: DID SHE KILL HIM? 

Changbin: FELIX ANSWER US RIGHT NOW.  

Minho: I'm so curious

Chan: OMG LET HIM BREATHE!

Jeongin: I BET HE'S HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE.

Seungmin: He's probably just walking home. 

Hyunjin: WELL HE CAN TEXT AND WALK. 

Jisung: WHAT IF HE PASSED OUT. LIXIE!! 

---

Felix stumbled into his apartment, collapsed onto his bed, and with trembling hands, grabbed his phone.  

---

Felix: GUYS. 

Jisung: HOLY FUCK HE’S ALIVE.  

Hyunjin: REPORT. IMMEDIATELY.  

Changbin: Spill. 

Felix: IT WAS AMAZING. WE KISSED. SHE SAID WANTED A NEXT TIME. WITH ME. OMG. 

Chan: Go Felix!! 

Minho: Details. Now. 

Jeongin: We need a play-by-play.

Felix: She kissed me on the cheek first. But then, I kinda kissed her on the lips.

Felix: It was so soft and sweet

Felix: Wait. WHY AM I TELLING YOU THIS.  

Changbin: Because we are your emotional support animals.

Jisung: You what. 

Hyunjin: You chased her lips didn't you? 

Felix: HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT?!

Chan: How are you so weirdly accurate all the damn time Hyunjin?! 

Hyunjin: It's a talent Christopher 😎

Minho: You're ignoring the fact that your little boy chased her lips like a starving animal. 

Felix: I DIDN’T MEAN TO! IT JUST HAPPENED.

Seungmin: OUR BOY IS HUNGRY. 

Chan: Felix, do you realize what this means? 

Felix: WHAT.

Minho: YOU’RE GONNA GET LAID.

Chan: NO NO! OH MY GOD! I MEANT YOU SHOULD INVITE HER TO MY WEDDING AS YOUR PLUS ONE! MINHO!! 

Felix: I AM GOING TO PASS OUT.

Felix: GOOD NIGHT. 

Jisung: Bro’s gonna have good dreams tonight.  

Hyunjin: Spicy ones for sure. 

Felix: LEAVE ME ALONE.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @hanadulsetaad

[matchingbatbites]

The woman is fucking stunning. A goddess amongst mortals, a vision sent from the heavens to bless any who may see her. Eddie could honestly go on, but she has to return her focus to the man currently standing at the counter and not the beauty that just walked through the door.

"Here's your change," she says as she passes over the few coins and receipt. "Pickup is at the end of the counter, and they'll call your name when it's ready.

The man gives Eddie his thanks before walking away, and then Aphrodite incarnate is stepping up to the counter. God, she's even more beautiful up close. The slant of her nose, the artful swoop of her chestnut hair - the twin moles on her cheek that are eerily familiar for a reason Eddie can't quite place.

"Welcome to Black Roast Café, can I have a name for your order?"

"Hi there," the woman says with a soft smile, and god, Eddie feels bad for ever making fun of Jerry Maguire. You had me at hello, indeed. "Uh, Stevie is fine."

Eddie nods and types the name into the system. "Okay, Stevie, what can I get you?"

The woman - Stevie - doesn't even look at the board before she rattles off her order. "Can I please get a large, iced caramel latte, with three shots of espresso, a pump of white chocolate, and extra whip? Oh, and a butterscotch blondie."

Eddie's brain shudders to a halt. The order is specific, unique, and it's one she's heard before, from- well if she's being honest, from the only man that's ever made Eddie question her lesbianism.

Steve had been so beautiful and so kind. He was her absolute favorite customer before he'd moved away two years ago, following his best friend when she transferred to a different university to complete her master's. Eddie had mourned just a little, had grieved the loss of sunshine he brought to her days.

Eddie's eyes snap to the two moles on the woman's cheek and everything clicks into place. "Oh shit! You're back!" she says, her filter absolutely failing her. Stevie's smile fades a bit, replaced with a tinge of nervousness as she shifts in place.

"Oh, uh, I didn't- I wasn't expecting you to-"

"Remember you?" Eddie cuts in as she finally punches the order into the register. "Honestly, your order is a hard one to forget. Clearly I was right about all that sugar going to your hips."

It's a gentle tease, one she used to make back when- before, because the order really is just so sweet. It works the way Eddie hoped it would, because Stevie just laughs softly and smooths her hands over her full, curvaceous - fuck, Eddie, head out of the gutter - her hips.

"Yeah, I could probably stand to cut back a little, huh?"

"Don't you dare," Eddie retorts, offended at just the suggestion. "If anything I encourage more, because you're- you look amazing, actually."

The woman blushes, so pink and pretty, and bites into her lower lip the way Eddie wants to. "You think so?" she asks as she hands her card over to Eddie.

"Uh, totally. Like, you were attractive before - and that's coming from a lesbian - but now you-" Eddie pauses, taking a second to run the card as she shrugs. "You're like, glowing. And it only makes you more beautiful."

There's no response from Stevie as the receipt prints, and it's not until Eddie is handing back the card that she sees the stunned look on Stevie's face, her flush even darker. Fuck, that might have been too much.

Before Eddie can apologize though, Stevie takes her receipt and blurts out "I think you're hot."

Huh?

"You do?" Eddie asks, and Stevie nods.

"I've always thought you were hot. But you have the little-" She points to where Eddie's nametag is, to the little lesbian flag sticker that she stuck on it. "The sticker, and like- My best friend, Robin? She's also a lesbian, and she's talked about how annoying it is when guys hit on her and I didn't want to be like that, so I never said anything."

God, Stevie's just as sweet as she used to be, and much more considerate than Eddie even knew. She probably wouldn't have minded getting hit on by Steve at the time, and now that Stevie is standing before her, more beautiful than she's ever been and claiming that she finds Eddie attractive? Well, there's no way Eddie can't make a move.

"How long are you in town?" Eddie asks.

"Oh, uh, we just moved back, actually. Robin finished her master's program and got a job at a local museum translating documents and artifacts."

"Okay, that's cool as hell and I definitely want to hear more about that, but first- Do you want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

The question seems to surprise Stevie, and it takes her a second to process it. "Are you sure? Even though I'm-"

"The most beautiful woman I've ever seen and way out of my league? Yeah, I'm pretty sure, sweetheart. And I'm not above begging if I have to."

Stevie blushes again and oh, Eddie is already addicted to the way it floods her cheeks, is in love with how alive, how happy she looks. "Then yeah, I'd really, really like that." She grabs a pen from the nearby cup and scribbles her number on the back of her receipt before passing it to Eddie. "Call me when you're off?" she asks, and Eddie nods, beaming.

"The moment I clock out," Eddie promises, and Stevie giggles - giggles! Stevie's name is called and Eddie is thankful that the store is practically empty, because for a second there she genuinely forgot where she was.

Stevie gives her a wink and a "Talk to you later, Eddie," and Eddie barely waits for her to leave the store before she's adding Stevie's number into her phone.

"Okay," Chrissy says as she slides up beside Eddie. "Who is she and how did you get her number so easily?"

Eddie grins as she saves the new contact under Stevie 🩷🌹😍 "That, darling Christine, is my future wife."

[juricel]

heyyy its me again

I have a silly request for you which you can ignore if you want to, since I think your ask box is piling up haha!

basically,

Yandere reader x pre corrupt shadow milk cookie turns to reader x Yandere shadow milk cookie

Reader, at first is super obsessed and does a lot of stuff for pre-corrupted shadow milk cookie and hes like super disgusted by how they’re acting. And suddenly, reader disappears one day, and hes fine with it

beasts get corrupted then get jailed,,

while in jail shadow milk cookie misses how loving y/n was, and realised that he has taken them for granted </33 And now he wants them back because of how love deprived he became

when hes out of the silver tree he see’s y/n again and at first hes all hip hip hooray !! until he sees that y/ns clinging onto the THIEF!!!

he goes batshit crazy, you can be creative with this if you want or just give your little ideas/comments I just really want more food wahah

so sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, it’s 2am :’)

tysm for reading oh great one!! you don’t have to do this right away dont worry love ur work already

—��non

a/n: it's okay, i understand what you were aimimg for! I focused on the other requests before this one and had some church duties to do, so I apologize for having you need to wait for so long.

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x past yandere! reader (ft. the bus driver, pure vanilla cookie.)

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, physical abuse, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, implied mindbreak, corruption, objectification, stalking, pure vanilla cookie needs a fucking break, one of these warnings is not like the rest, potential ooc.

𖦁 blueberry milk cookie was a heaven sent gift from the witches above, he was a celestial jewel, an angel's whisper brought down to earth, the very breath of seraphim—an impossible, transcendental blessing cradled in the tender arms of witches' own grace. he was a splendid confection, kneaded from divine essence, destined to scatter blessings upon the crumbed multitudes of earthbread—a being way out of your league, you, an ordinary cookie who could crumble and wither into a flour with not a single eye batting to your direction.

𖦁 ah, but how radiant he was, you couldn't help yourself from your love, your dear, your luminous, immortal darling. does he even know? does he grasp the way his mind glows, the way his thoughts spill like molten gold onto the parchment of your very soul? he was your everything, your love—your guiding star, your perfect darling, your sole, necessary breath. and yet, the world, the pitiful, ignorant world, could not comprehend his brilliance, like a mere toy, they had molded him, and cast him aside once their utilitarian need had been served; they did not deserve him. no, the world could not deserve him—those who fail to recognize the sacredness of his mind, who treat his wisdom as commonplace, who look upon him without the reverence of a disciple at the feet of a god—it sickens you, stirs a fury deep within your chest. in the hollowed, gleaming corridors of his towering spire, you would see them—fawning, indulging in their miserable, blind inanities, lost in the sick lies they prefer over the sublime truth he alone could offer. and mind you, it was he—he—who spent his invaluable time, his precious moments, entangled with these dull, odious fools, these imbecilic cookies just for them to throw it away! he should not have to share his divine self with such paltry, uninspired creatures. no, no, no. you could not abide it. you would sever every connection, carve away every distraction, erase every tether that pulled him from you. and if it were required to cloak him in the softest, most unrelenting shadow, to shield him from the world that could never grasp his greatness, to hide him where only your gaze could drink in the luminous glow of his mind—so be it. you would protect him, cherish him, and keep him safe from those who could never understand him as you do.

𖦁 yet, he couldn't seem to understand it all; with every embrace, a look of disdain was given to you, as if you were a taint smeared upon heavens, can't he understand? these cookies were the one that were evil! they will defile him, corrupt his very name with degeneracy! you were merely shielding him away from the evil, how could he not comprehend that? he must've been brainwashed. yes, surely, or so that was what you wanted to believe, however, all his actions proved otherwise: with every touch, he recoiled, like a skittish moth repelled by the flame it once sought. with every affectionate word, he replied in clipped, mechanical syllables, blunt and cold, each one landing with the weight of a slammed door. there was no love in them—no warmth, no hesitance, no trace of a feeling that might, by some miracle, have softened the harsh lines of his indifference. you learned quickly that tenderness was a language he neither spoke nor cared to decipher. a hand reaching for his own was met with a perfunctory pat, a touch devoid of meaning, as if acknowledging, rather than returning, the gesture. you could pour all your warmth into him, let it trickle down the cracks in his facade, but he would not absorb it. He remained, steadfast in his distance, near enough to torment, far enough to elude. you tried to believe in the silences, in the space between his words, in the possibility that somewhere beneath that marble exterior, there was something that resembled love. but hope, much like affection, was wasted on him. you tried, really! to continue loving him, you truly did, but, ah, your feelings leisurely diminished into grains of flour until your love turned into rust and dust.

𖦁 it wasn't long until then your unfortunate sweet dear darling, the celestial beacon in your life was sullied into taint when you vanished into thin air. from graces, he fell, and into the bottom of the endless pit of corruption.

𖦁 and oh, how much he changed: in the cold, lonely cell, he reminisced the past, thought of you, thought of your oh so tender gentle caresses! and to say that it made him deprived of warmth, made him ache—hunger not for food, but for yours was an understatement. he sought and yearned for it, hunger gnawed, a sensation with fangs, sharp and insistent, curling inside his ribs like a starved serpent. he gwaned for you—not sweetly, not poetically, but in the way of a body denied water, of lips cracked and trembling at the edge of a mirage. oh, to be held, to be devoured, to be anything but this wretched hunger pressing against the ribs, licking at the throat, whispering: more, more, more... ah! he couldn't stop it! he promises to himself that he'd apologize to you and pamper you with affection once he gets out of this petulant little silver tree!

𖦁 and he'd definitely stick to his word; the moment he flees from the withering tree binding him and his allies, he had his priorities straight: to find his dear darling! he was beyond ectastic, thoughts filled of embracing you once more and kissing you, but, ah, none could prepare him for the sight that would unfold infront of his very gaze—his sweet puppet was linking arms with /him/. at first, he laughed, he chuckled and brushed it off, no, no, surely he was just presuming things! there was no way his dear would betray him and replace him with such a... ungracious caricature of a cookie, right? right? if you were, he'd definitely need to give you a better eyes as a replacement which was a no worries for him! he has a nice stock of replacement! surely, you wouldn't stoop down to that level of degeneracy. yet, you didn't approach him like he thought and dreamed of within the silved tree, you only took a cautious step back, away from him, away from your perfect celestial darling and to the burlesque version of himself, realization dawned and it made him seeth with anger.

𖦁 blasphemous! how dare you! you superseded his spot with this thing?! to betray him was one thing, but to replace him with this cheap copy of himself whom hadn't grown ever slightly intelligent despite wielding his own power?! you little pest! he'll make you pay for this. oh, and, don't worry your pretty little brain! he promises to be much, much more tender than he will be to him, it will be grand, a show that will mark itself in earthbread's history. so won't you be a good little dear and wait till he finishes his one last marionette show before tending to you?

𖦁 and as for the destiny of the silly little thief... ah, he vows to make him taste his own medicine and he'll make certain it will be a fate worse than crumbling away! he wasn't gonna kill him, no, no, death was far too gentle, he was gonna corrupt him, brainwash his mind with sweet, insidious poison, and distort his reality into a glistening hall of mirrors where every reflection was a lie, every whisper a trick of the light. he would unravel, unravel most grotesquely, as his reason frayed like moth-eaten silk, his thoughts dissolving into the same exquisite delirium that had once seized his own skull in its venomous embrace! and most importantly, he was gonna make him feel like what it felt like to be in his place! he stole his soul jam and now you, surely he doesn't think he can get away with that, can't he? no, no, if he wants to take from him so badly, he was gonna make him /him/.

𖦁 but ah, don't be so upset, dear. shouldn't you be exhilarated? he's giving you the attention you craved for, the attention you digged the sand and soils for until your fingers scarred and numbed for, the attention you yearned and sought for like a madman. so, why won't you clap, give your sweet jester an applause for his spectacular show? don't tell him you were still concerned of pure vanilla cookie! he simply put him in the right path, the road down to the deepest depths of hell, of course, but it was still a befitting destination!

𖦁 yet, still, still, you prattled on, fretting that lovely little head of yours over pure vanilla cookie—his name tumbling from your lips like some sacred incantation, a hymn to a god too distant to listen. and oh, how it curdled something deep inside him, how it set his very marrow alight with a fury so exquisite it was almost pleasure. could you not see? he was here. here, before you, in all his resplendent, fevered devotion, and yet you—blind, foolish, maddening thing—spoke of another. oh! perhaps a lesson was in order. yes, yes, that's right, a lesson. a gentle one, at first—he was, after all, a man of remarkable patience. a game, then, a little amusement, something to turn those wandering thoughts back where they belonged. he would not interrupt, no, never that. he would only guide, nudge, mold. and in the end, oh, you would see. you would understand. you would learn.

𖦁 and to say the wait had been merely excellent would be a crime of understatement, a paltry insult to the fevered anticipation that had coiled and uncoiled within him for so long. no, the outcome was a marvel beyond the bounds of mere expectation. you were back, back as you had been, intact, whole—his darling, his own, still in possession of that precious, once-fractured self. giddy with triumph, he would fall against you, arms encircling the exquisite stillness of your form, his dear darling, still and unresponsive—your gaze, those glassy and depthless eyes, did not meet his but stretched past him, unfocused, fixed upon some distant and nameless horizon. there was no flicker of recognition, no gentle return of his embrace. and yet, he clung to you, triumphant, unbothered by your silence, unshaken by your vacancy. you were here. that was more than enough.

a/n: I've received like... so many requests featuring pure vanilla cookie with yandere shadow milk cookie after i made that one post... do you guys want him dead? anyways, i just lost my pity in the guaranteed banner to fucking sherbet cookie. i need frost queen to turn him into snow once again... can someone bless me their mystic flour luck, ill give you my burning spice who is currently 4 stars (f2p)

[jackiepackiee]

Telemachus x Apollo! Blessed Reader

Chapter seven

This chapter takes place during chapter six… Yay! More Apollo!

So this is a reader heavy chapter, sorry if it’s too specific to relate to, but we get some more backstory!

Masterlist

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Unbeknownst to either of you, Telemachus wasn’t the only one who was wide awake that night.

And neither were the Gods, always busy in their dance of mortal affairs.

You lay in bed, eyes tracing over the ceiling tiles that seem to grow shadows in the dim light. Ithaca resting in a soothing silence under the stars. Leaving you to be what feels like all alone, body heavy on the soft material of the bed beneath you.

If you could help it, you’d be floating somewhere in space. Weightless, unattached, and bearable. Instead of feeling the dark blanket of night press down on your chest. Leaving your breaths more shallow than you had wished for, on a practiced pattern of in and out that came less naturally than you hoped.

It’s a different kind of stillness that one feels when they don’t know ‘how to feel.’ Stuck, unmovable in place in time that only ticks back and forth.

Back to memories that you had once cherished. Times when you felt the same way you do now. The same way you feel with him.

Ticking forward to the tugging in your chest that not even music could capture.

Then back again, to a place in your mind that refused to let go of the past.

It was said to be love then, but with how everything turned out, how could this be anything similar.

Before you could reason the past with the events of the future, the moon seemed to glow brighter as a familiar figure sat at the edge of your bed.

“Apollo? What are you doing here?” You called, voice level without the shock that most had when they saw a God. You had gotten used to his presence by now, and didn’t even have to lift your head to recognize him.

Instead, you left yourself to rest on the pillows.

He looked around your room, leaning against the wall next to the bed as he focused on the instrument laying at your desk.

“You haven’t touched your lyre in two days.” He claimed, voice less joyful than he usually was. Lacking his teasing tone.

As he spoke, you fell further into your pillows. “I guess not…” Humming out, he could hear the tiredness in your voice.

Deciding to not let you waste away in your bed for a sleepless night, he spoke again. “And it’s been two days since your lesson with the prince.” With that, his usual teasing attitude was back.

You, however, were not in the mood for the teasing. Good intentions or not. “Two days is two days, more has happened than just that.” As you talked, you turned to face the wall next to the bed. Now laying on your side as your mind tried not to drift to the prince and his smile…

Apollo’s voice dragged you out of your thoughts.

“Let’s see. You’ve had about five lessons with him now.” He stood up, tapping his chin in mock thought. “Each lesson you’ve gotten closer and closer…” He trailed off, strumming the lyre once to let out a divine note.

“Quit it.” You whined, closing your eyes to try and rid yourself of the image that Telemachus held in your mind.

The god just continued to fiddle with items on your desk, sitting on the wood and looking at your back facing him. “During your fourth he even let you see his bedroom to show you his collection of stories of mythical beasts!” He mentioned, tossing up one of your pens and catching it as a form of distraction.

You shrunk further into yourself, shoulders reaching to almost hide yourself from the words you didn’t want to hear. “Seriously Apollo, enough.” Grabbing one of your pillows, you tried, and failed, to get comfortable. Squirming at the bed you were far too restless to be in.

He just tilted his head and stood up off the desk, picking up your lyre and inspecting it. “Oh come on, get out of bed, it’s not like you’re tired. You’re going to lose all your talent if you don’t play any music.” He said in a lighthearted tone, smiling despite your facing away.

Opposing his cheerful demeanor, you leaned further into the bed before huffing and sitting up. Too uncomfortable to sit still. “Good, then I’ll be let go of my job.” Your attitude wasn’t entirely intentional, but after days of discord it wasn’t easy to hide.

Silence took over the both of you, with Apollo placing down the lyre and watching you. Sitting on the bed, you took account of each breath in and out, trying to relax.

He wasn’t oblivious to how you felt, but he couldn’t read your every thought.

Soon, he spoke again, breaking the silence. “Did something happen?” He asked, voice more gentle than it was when you had late night talks.

You leaned further into your bed frame, letting your shoulders lose their tension and breathing out a breath from the bottom of your chest. “No. Nothing happened.” You let your head lull back, looking back up at the ceiling.

Apollo crossed his arms, leaning back against the desk. “Obviously it did. Don’t lie to me.” He ordered, but quickly toned down his commanding nature when he saw the puffiness in your eyes now obvious from the moonlight on your skin.

“Look, I just don’t think I should be his teacher.” You responded, looking directly at the god who stood before you. Expression more exhausted than either of you wished to admit.

Not knowing how to handle your life, especially in this way, without being completely unhelpful, he did what he knew.

A small joke came out, fully intended to brighten your demeanor, even if he knew it wouldn’t work. “Is he that bad of a lyre player?” But not even a small smile tugged at your lips, or a shine in your eyes.

Just a huff of a response. “Don’t be rude.”

He frowned, running a hand through his light hair in thought before finally going for a more comforting approach.

“Sorry, sorry…” He hummed. “What’s wrong? Be honest.” He said softly, finally allowing you to let your walls down just the slightest bit.

“He’s a prince, Apollo. I’m not a princess.” You admitted, sounding more dejected than most mortals he’d ever met. Eyes not leaving the ceiling as you tried not to just let the silence take over your mind.

“He doesn’t seem to care about that, and I surely don’t.” He offered, trying to be genuine with what he saw. He couldn’t read the boy's mind, but the way he saw him look at you was proof enough that he thought highly of you.

You sighed, running your hands over your face and down your jaw to massage at your tense neck, blinking away the sting in your eyes.

Nothing there but memories from those places you’d lived, and the people you loved. All past.

“I just can’t go chasing anything again. Not ever.” You claimed, letting your arms go limp in your lap.

Apollo tried to interject your thoughts of defeat. “I know, but-“ Instead, you cut off his attempt at savior.

“I don’t want to have this conversation.” Tiredly, you fully laid down in bed and tucked the blanket up and over your shoulders.

He walked closer to the window, getting ready to leave. But before, he turned around one last time. “Hey, it’s something you’ll have to bring up eventually.” He said.

You just turned to your side, curling further into your bed.

“Not. Now.” You said, sniffling in the cold night air.

He just sighed, before giving you one goodbye.

“Fair enough… Get some sleep, kid.”

Leaving you with your thoughts of the past and the prince.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist - @dog-and-cat-person230 @m-carriaga2021 @blessedbyahuntress @cleawritesstuff @b4ts1e @permanently-nothere

@kaguraaaa @rockyeatrock @keikeiluvyou @hijinkxy @doodle-with-rhy @barrythestrawberry041 @dazedemery @sunshinewhosketches @bafb1tch @lethby

@pjopinkk @nishayuro @moonlitenvyillust @emmy6999 @theyumeeighth @plushiesssforcrying @mh4r-squared @biscuit-sa @sofiafantasies @reapersan @starstarmoon-not-anon @woo-verse

[desertteagles]

╰───► like it’s our last - e. williams

drabble.

Pairing - bbf!ellie x fem! reader

Synopsis- your brothers back from college and he brings his best friend since childhood back with him. you’ve realized you have a crush on her and sworn you wouldn’t act on it, fearing your brothers disapproval. ellie also has been harboring feelings for you but promised to not make a move per your brothers request.. especially since ellie’s kind of a player.

warnings- no smut this time </3 but little angst ig…, uhhhh idk i think that’s it.. was gonna make this a oneshot (that’s why the punctuation is sorta kinda good) but i decided NAWT to so here !

a/n well um… hi guys ! i’ve been gone for a year my bad chat 😞

U nfortunately, today was the fucking day. Now, usually, you’re happy whenever your brother decides to visit home, but this time he’s bringing an unwanted (very wanted) guest that you’ve been kind of avoiding, in order to not run your big ass mouth.

Ellie was annoying as fuck. That didn’t stop you from developing a crush on her, though, and you hated yourself for it. It was just... she’s so pretty with her stupid green eyes and veiny hands, and her pretty hair that’s always in that fuckass bun, and her... “Wait, what the fuck. Stop thinking about her, oh my god,” you groaned, putting your face in your hands. Unsurprisingly, you could never seem to keep her from getting stuck in your mind. It was a never-ending cycle of “I don’t even like her; she just has a nice face,” to “Why the fuck am I lying? I want her so bad,” battling it out in your head ever since you realized there might be something more than just annoyance toward her because she was your brother's best friend. Which also opens a whole new can of worms that you really don’t have the mental capacity to deal with.

You see, your brother is very, very, very overprotective. It was so bad that you couldn’t even bring up liking celebrities around him, which was absurd, so you had to tell him to back off (he never really did). Ellie, being the player that she is, definitely tried to get your brother's blessing to pursue you back in high school, but he naturally shot her down with a vicious and explicitly detailed description of how he’d kill her and hide the body if she ever tried anything with you, which effectively scared her from even looking at you for a while. Obviously, that didn’t last long because she became this annoying nuisance of a human being, and it ground your gears until she finally left for college with your brother, giving you a much-needed break.

the break didn’t last long because for some odd reason you thought it was the greatest fucking idea to stalk her social media. Granted, you did it out of hate (it wasn’t hate) so it’s really not your fault that seeing her posts made you start looking at her in a different light. But now she was back. And this time, you have this added knowledge that she’s hot as fuck and you don’t really think you will be able to function around her.

You paced around your room, hands in your hair, agonizing over what the fuck to wear ever since you learned Ellie was visiting with your brother today. It was like some kind of cosmic joke — the universe giving you just enough time to forget how much you liked her before slamming her right back into your life.

You could hear the muffled sound of your brother’s laugh from downstairs. Your stomach twisted, nerves kicking in. You peeked out of your bedroom window and, sure enough, there was Ellie, leaning against the car, hands shoved in her pockets, that fuckass bun sitting low on her head. She was talking to your brother, but you barely registered him — all you could focus on was her smirk, the way her eyes squinted when she laughed, how the light from the sun caught on her freckles. Now that made you make a face, “ew why the fuck am i thinking like a poet.”

“Gotdammit,” you muttered to yourself. “Get it the fuck together.”

Your heart was racing, but you couldn't tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe both…. definitely both.

A sharp knock on your door yanked you out of your thoughts, and before you could even answer, your brother barged in. “Hey, Ellie’s here,” he said, grinning like an idiot. “Come down and say hi, don’t be weird.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m not the weird one, you are. and plus i have to finish getting ready! i’ll be down in a second, get out!”

He rolled his eyes. “Just be normal for like five minutes, when you come down okay? I know you guys have this weird rivalry or whatever the fuck but its been like a year so please.”

“fine, but if she starts her shit don’t say anything.” you mumbled, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. “fuck me.” you sighed and turned to finish getting ready.

—

As soon as you hit the bottom step, Ellie’s eyes locked on yours. That familiar spark of mischief shined in her gaze. She tilted her head slightly, grinning in that infuriatingly, cocky way that always made your knees a littttle weak.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft but teasing, as if she already knew the effect she had on you. Which she couldn’t know… right? Right.

You swallowed hard, trying to act unfazed. “Ellie.”

Her grin widened, and for a split second, you could’ve sworn she looked you up and down. Almost like she was checking you out. weird. “Long time no see,” she said, stepping forward and pulling you into a quick, unexpected hug.

Your brain short-circuited for a moment, and when she let go, you were left standing there, blinking like an idiot, your skin buzzing from where her hands had briefly touched your back.

“It’s barely been a year. but yeah, long time,” you managed, trying desperately to sound casual but instead sounding like a dying cat.

—

The next couple of hours were spent catching up and you watching ellie and your brother play Call of duty.. or was it fortnite? you can’t really remember. all you can seem to focus on is how ellie’s hands look around the controller and how good they’d look around your ne- “hey. are you.. okay?” you jumped a little at being pulled from your thoughts by ellie and slowly realized how long you were staring at her hands. “oh um yea.. totally,” you chuckled nervously and turned your attention back to the TV trying to ignore Ellie's burning gaze on the side of your face. Like usual, your brother was oblivious to anything but that damn game, trash talking like crazy, while you kept sneaking looks at Ellie after that embarrassing ass moment. She didn’t seem to mind though; in fact, she seemed to enjoy catching you staring. Every time you glanced her way, she was already looking, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

At one point, you found yourself in the kitchen, you were hungry as fuck and being a third wheel didn’t exactly curb your hunger. Unfortunately, Ellie walked in not too long after you, her presence immediately making the room feel smaller.

“So,” she said, dragging the o and leaning against the counter with that same smirk. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You froze, almost crushing a chip that was making its way into your mouth in your hand. “What!? No, I haven’t. You're actually delusional, I don't know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Rightttt. I'm totally delusional.”

You turned to look at her, grabbing another chip out of the bag to eat before pausing and saying, “Okay, maybe I have. But it’s not purposefully !”

Ellie took a step closer, and you had to force yourself to keep breathing. “Oh really?”

“Yes really! I have literally no reason to avoid you. Don’t be dumb. i’ve just been busy with getting my esthetician license.. ” You bit your lip, trying and failing to seem calm. God, this was the exact situation you were trying to avoid. You wanted to tell her off, make her stop questioning you, but honestly… you kinda missed her (you’d never admit this out loud) and it was nice talking to her. Not to mention looking at her lips while she talked was one of your favorite pastimes.

Ellie took another step forward, so close now that you could smell her — that familiar mix of leather and something earthy. It was distracting as hell, and you loved hated it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding in your chest.

“Busy with your esthetician license, huh?” Ellie’s voice was low, almost mocking, as if she knew how much of a lie that sounded like, even if it was mostly true. “that’s hilarious because you seemed to have plenty of time to stare at my hands earlier.”

Your face burned instantly. “I wasn’t staring,” you blurted, probably a little too fast.

Ellie’s smirk widened, her eyes flicking down to your hands fidgeting with the chip bag. “Sure you weren’t.” She was enjoying this way too much, but instead of leaving you to drown in embarrassment, she stepped even closer, her gaze suddenly more intense, less mocking. “You know, I don’t typically care if you stare.”

Your brain completely short-circuited. Was she for real? You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest as you decided it’s now or never and maybe it’s time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

You leaned in, your eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, the playful tension between you both shifted into something else — something heavier. “is that right?” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur as you tucked a loose strand behind her ear with a smirk.

Ellie’s breath hitched and you saw a blush spread across her face like crazy. She was not expecting you to reciprocate her teasing. In fact, she thought you would get too flustered to even think. You giggled at her stunned face, body still alight with nerves and your mind screaming did i really just do that??? The room felt impossibly small, and you couldn’t focus on anything but how close she was. You could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the way her gaze flickered down to your lips for just a second before snapping back to your eyes.

“I—” you started, but before you could even finish, your brother’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, causing you to jump back from Ellie in surprise.

“Ellie, you better be keeping your hands to yourself…” he called from the living room, his tone half-joking but you could tell he wasn’t.

Ellie groaned in annoyance at the interruption. She raised her hand as if to hold yours but faltered at your confused expression, and dropped it with a sigh “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, her voice quieter now, as she turned toward the living room. “Jesus Christ.”

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Remember us all

Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, emotional, reader is pregnant, mention murder and death, angst, kissing, cuddling

Summary: With the death of Geta, which she had witnessed, terrified for her life and that of her husband, her husband seemed to be lost. Macrinus, who could so easily take over Rome, represented a real-life nightmare for the imperial family. But in all this horror, Caracalla seemed to come back to her from his madness because their love for each other simply had to heal him.

info : After weeks or months I returned with another Caracalla one-shot. Have fun, it's been a long time since I wrote for the sweet and now I wish you a lot of fun :)

masterlist

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

They all had a dream of Rome.

They wanted to make Rome even bigger and wider. One battle after another would have been fought, they would have raised the flag of the empire and the three of them would have been the rulers of the world.

From the moment she had been introduced to the two emperors, when she had seen the two blond young men whose appearance was godlike, something in her had fallen for them, especially the younger one.

It was the kind only given by gods, a togetherness of their own, a family the two formed.

The two together had defied everything to wear the golden crowns and made the old dream of Rome so tangible.

Above all they were two people who were also fond of her, the hours she had spent with Geta, looking over maps together at the table, drinking wine together and practising speaking in front of the senate and the people.

A man of politics and the art of attention, despite his age he was a good emperor, ,,As I love my brother, so I would give you my blessing if your heart desires him too" he had told her one evening as they both stood on the balcony looking out over the city.

Her embarrassed smile, however, spoke of wariness, even more time in Rome she had spent with Caracalla, ,,I would love nothing more than to share my life with him" she had replied, not realising what those words would lead to.

She spent every minute and hour she had free with the golzahn bearer, listening to his ideas for even more fights and battles, putting them down on paper or turning them into figures made of ceramics.

But above all she was impressed by his monkey, who had learnt to bring her berries when Caracalla gave an order, ,,Dundus likes you just as much as I like you my princess" he always called her, with a broad smile.

She was the princess for him, a princess from a distant empire that allied itself with Rome and accepted its flag, a political alliance that led to an unexpected love.

A love that only took a sun and moons to become a golden wedding of a size and class that Rome had not seen for decades, the marriage between Caracall and his beloved princess.

A marriage and an alliance of love and honour, two hearts beating for each other that were a perfect match.

It was his amusing manner that appealed to her, when worries about the future became too great and nightmares plagued her, it was he who cuddled up to her at night.

Caracalla who took her hand and entertained her with stories...while she brought him back to the now.

When his gaze of madness settled on hers and he recognised his wife, his Rome and his brother, he had his family back.

When he kissed her lips and felt her, tasted her, felt her heartbeat from the moment on their wedding night to the many days later when he would not let go of her.

He was like a sun that seemed to shine only for her, he was the one who loved her night after night, let himself be loved by her.

The news of her pregnancy only a few moons later surprised hardly anyone in the kingdom as songs and poems were already being spread about them both.

A pregnancy that moved even Geta to tears, ,,We are a family, with hope and future the gods seem and all to be gracious" he announced as the celebration in her honour began, Caracalla smiling proudly as he placed a hand covered in golden rings on her still flat stomach.

When his bright eyes looked into hers and she heard him say, ,,I am going to be a father, you are my wife, the mother of the child...I could not have had anything better" and he gave her a kiss, in a moment when he had never been as clear as on that day.

A day, however, that was unfortunately only a few months in the past and whenever she looked outside, Rome seemed to become more and more of a nightmare.

After Acacius' execution the people had gone mad but even she could not have changed her husband and brother-in-law's mind, not after such a great betrayal that had been committed.

A nightmare that didn't stop as she paced her room restlessly, her stomach no longer flat but slightly rounded, ,,Your family will take care of the nightmare, you will have a peaceful future my Helios" she said to her child, praying once more to the gods as she decided to return to them.

Despite the fact that she was supposed to stay away from the windows and the outside, she wanted to see them, her family, her husband and brother-in-law.

But she would never have imagined that the nightmare was so real, so close, so bloody and so devastating as she made her way from her room through the corridors of the palace.

Her scream rang through the palace as she saw the dying, help-seeking look on Geta's face as his body fell to the ground.

The blood spread around him like a pond and two men looked at her, one cool and waiting, the other excited and amused, ,,Empress just in time would you take care of your husband, someone has to take care of the mishap" Macrinus said and the blood dripped from his hands like a warning.

A warning that would be stained with her blood and that of Caracalla when he got his chance.

What had happened, he was predictable, he would have lost, he would have killed her, Caracalla and the heir...he was like a lion waiting for his chance to strike and until then she would have to watch out for Caracalla to turn the blade on her former ‘friend’ Macrinus.

The tears and weeping mingled with screams as she looked from the body of her brother-in-law to the knife in her husband's hands, ,,It's all mine at last!" Caracalla exclaimed happily and slowly made his way to her.

Her backing away from the blade, the help that came too late for Geta made a guilt burn inside her, ,,Ca-Caracalla...look at me we-we should clean you up" she said her voice shaky, fear occupying her senses as her trembling hand reached out for the blonde's.

To her relief, he looked at the sword almost immediately before throwing it to the ground, the sound making her flinch.

He didn't realise what he had done, what he had done to Geta, that he had killed his brother and that Macrinus was the revenge.

His hand was warm and sticky as she felt the still warm blood of Geta as she gasped for air and pressed her other hand to her stomach.

Praying silently to the gods to end this nightmare, ,,Are you unwell? It's all mine now, your emperor will take care of your suffering" he said encouragingly, stroking her cheek.

Playfully teasing the kiss he gave her, not knowing that the blood on his hands seemed like the punishment of the gods. Behind his maniacal sweetness and excitement, her love could be seen but the actions were his carnality.

The blood that now stained her too made her dizzy, but holding on to him for a moment she saw that the childish madness slumbered in his blue eyes, her husband was not there.

Her Caracalla was not with her, ,,It's-It's all right, we should...clean you up for your ascent" she tried to compose herself and pointed to the large washbasin in her room with two chairs in front of it.

His assent and nods of agreement were laced with approval as her hands poured the rose-scented water into the bowl, adding the water and seeing in the mirror how his eyes never left her form.

The madness flamed in the bright blue of his eyes, the broad amused grin as he saw this vision clear as the sun before him. The Rome for himself and her, just the two of them, just him, never with Geta as it seemed for the moment.

,,I will have games organised, laws passed and statues of your image made of gold erected" he spoke to her as his hands gripped hers, blood staining them again.

Blood she thought would be that of the birth of their child, not that of her brother-in-law and future uncle of the heir.

Trying to take the situation as calmly as she could, she began to gently clean his hands of the blood, ,,That's flattering my husband but...do-do you remember us?" she asked carefully, feeling his fingers twitch as he looked at the blood in the water.

The two of them danced with each other, played and courted each other, something they both did every day. Dancing together, holding each other, being one, a memory of them both created from the water of purity and the blood of death.

Seeing how in his mind he was struggling with madness, the curse that had gripped him for years, the blood that interested and amused him...a blood that suddenly made him look at her.

She saw in the blue eyes how something broke, how something disappeared, how hands tremblingly touched her stomach, he laid his head against her chest and she heard the bitter weeping.

Her attempts to calm him with kisses on his light head, her hands holding him and letting him cling to her helped little, little in the face of such a real horror of what he had done.

The trembling of his body as he clung to her whenever it caught up with him, whenever he realised what he had done in his delusion.

When the younger brother realised what a stain they both were, when the guilt consumed him and yet the slight relief that it wasn't his wife and child he could have killed.

As the flames of Rome became more and more conscious to him...and he realised that Rome was dependent on a mad child emperor and his pregnant wife with an unborn heir.

It was his nightmare, without his brother, dependent on her love not to slip into madness, he could do nothing but ask his wife, his princess for forgiveness. Because his love was all he could give her.

The bitter weeping which was interspersed with words begging for forgiveness that would not stop, ,,I am here, my heart...everything will be all right...for the three of us" it came slowly from her, not knowing if any other words would cause her own collapse.

As she could no longer hold back her own tears as she held her husband, held the unborn child and all of Rome seemed to fall around her, it would be up to them not to let the doom come over them all.

They would just have to remember each other, be there for each other and as long as their hearts beat for each other in remembrance, Macrinus had not won and Rome would see more days to come.

A promise for Geta, for Helios and the couple to themselves when she felt Caracalla's kiss as they held one another.

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

@songbirdmunson , @bel0ved-heretic , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @snazzynacho , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs , @dropkicksskz , @multific , @fallout-girl219 , @k-yurieee , @eddie-munsons-mommy , @qardasngan , @sweeteststing , @myromanempire81 , @duck-duck-goose2 , @babey-fruit-bat , @urween , @pecxiebu , @starry-night-lover1 , @aegonsslut , @baby-im-urs

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (LI)

Chapter 51 : ‘Here begins a new life’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Time for a romantic honeymoon!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3084

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

La Vita Nuova

In that book which is My memory . . . On the first page That is the chapter when I first met you Appear the words . . . Here begins a new life

Dante Alighieri, quote from La Vita Nuova

It was warm. Too warm one could say, and yet you didn’t have the heart to complain, and neither did Andrew.

The sunset in Florence was a sight to behold. It coloured the Ponte Vecchio with golden hues, catching in the windows of the houses built there. The bridge stretched above the river, that seemed to glimmer with gold. And above the building on your right, further away, the Florence Cathedral rose above everything else, the globe of its roof tainted with an even brighter shade of orange than its usual hues because of the dying sun.

It was magical, truly. You had spent your day visiting the Galleria dell’Academia, and even now, a few hours later, you still couldn’t believe that you had seen Michelangelo’s David with your own two eyes…

You licked some of your gelato, as it was about to drip on your hand. Sweet, perfect to cool down in the hot air of late summer in Italy.

God… when had you gotten so lucky in life?

An arm was draped over your shoulders, bringing an answer to your question.

“I know that it’s still pretty early,” Andrew said, his voice quiet and soft, his usual tone that you loved so much. “But I have to admit that I’m absolutely knackered. Is that alright if we go back to the hotel after that ice cream?”

“Gelato!” you corrected him, making him roll his eyes, but his grin was giving him away.

“Right… gelato.”

“Hmm… I love when you speak Italian.”

“Do you, now?”

“It’s sexy.”

You looked away as Andrew’s eyes lit up, and he pulled you closer.

“I’ll learn how to speak Italian. The second we go home, I’m booking a class or something.”

You laughed at him.

“You’ll definitely need it, considering how limited your vocabulary is in that language.”

“I still know how to say the most important things,” he argued. “Per favore. Grazzie mille. Pasta. Pizza. Gelato. Museo. Ciao. »

He made sure to stare into your eyes when he added another word.

“Ti amo.”

You giggled, and you were almost embarrassed by how much of a schoolgirl you sounded like. But then it was Andrew, he always had this effect on you.

“Mia moglie…” he trailed off, slowing the pace of your walking to steal a kiss.

My wife. God, you were not used to being called that, yet.

“Hmm… you’re right, these definitely are the most important things.”

It was your time to steal a kiss.

“Think so too. So, what do you say, we go back to the hotel?”

You nodded, eating some of your ice cream, and licking at some of Andrew’s to steal some of the strawberry flavour he had chosen. He merely chuckled breathily as you did.

You kept on walking a little longer, taking in the view, the atmosphere, the busy street, while you and Andrew were taking your time. You were on your honeymoon, after all. You had time. A three-weeks long trip across Italy, that would show some of the places you had always dreamt of visiting.

And you got to do it all with the love of your life, how wonderful was that?

You walked back to the hotel as the night was falling for good on the town. You had eaten already, getting high on red wine and lasagna, and then bought a gelato as a dessert. So, when you stepped into your hotel room, you expected for Andrew to ask if you wanted to shower first, to quickly go to bed out of exhaustion after your long day. So, you took off your shoes, took in the view of the room, the large bed covered with white sheets, your bags tugged away in a corner, the small desk, the chair, and the large window with linen curtains that were letting in the last of the light for the day, thinking about cuddling with Andrew before falling asleep in his arms…

… until you heard the click of the lock on the door, the shuffling of Andrew taking off his shoes behind you, and felt his fingers on your arm, gently pulling to make you turn around. You instantly yielded, turning to him with a questioning look, only to be met with a stare that you knew all too well. Dilated pupils, stare intense, focused on you, with something tender and adoring in their light…

Before you could say a word, Andrew was holding your face in his hands, and crashing his lips against yours. If you were surprised, kissing him was second nature by now, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, going to your tiptoes so he wouldn’t have to bend too much. He moved a hand down your body, all the way to the small of your back, to pull you closer to him and help you keep your balance. You were soon out of breath, but kept on kissing, kissing, and kissing again, while Andrew softly pushed you backwards, making you move towards the bed.

You finally pulled away when he started unfastening your dress, pulling the zipper down and making your head spin with his fingers grazing the bare skin they revealed…

“I thought… I thought you were tired,” you whispered, barely breathing at all.

Another kiss, breathtaking, shaking all of you, down to your very soul, the earth-shattering kind of kisses that showed you his love, his adoration even.

Your dress fell at your feet. He ran a hand through your hair.

“I might have lied a little on that one, my love,” he confessed, something cheeky in his smile, and you kissed that tinge of cockiness away.

“So… you just wanted to get me in your bed, huh? I’ve found your secret,” you chuckled, although your knees were growing weak as Andrew’s hands moved across your bare skin.

He laughed as well, lips a breath away from yours.

“Indeed, that was my plan all along. Can you blame me though? I’m on my honeymoon with my beautiful wife…”

You couldn’t help but shy away a little at his words, and Andrew used your movement to gently hold your earlobe between his teeth, making you moan.

You had arrived in Italy three days ago, and all the two of you had been doing aside from seeing the sights was enjoying each other’s bodies.

Andrew seemed to still be as insatiable though… and you were definitely not complaining.

“So, what do you think about this plan of mine?” he whispered into your ear, voice suave and deep, almost hoarse, while he rubbed soothing circles into your hips.

You looked up at him, staring right into his hazel eyes.

“I think my gorgeous husband is wearing way too many clothes now.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice…

Andrew was dozing off. It turned out he was tired, and even though it was just 11pm, he was about to deeply fall asleep. You knew he was. It was easy to recognize the signs. His breathing had slowed, his eyes were closed, and the crease on his brow had disappeared. You noticed how his lips slightly parted. His hold on you loosened, but remained unmoving. For once, the night owl was the first to fall asleep, so you seized the occasion to admire him properly. Studied how his long hair was spread on the white pillow, listened to his soft breathing, admired his long eyelashes. You reached out to trace the edge of his nose with your fingertip, your touch barely there at all. He slightly scrunched his nose, moved his body closer to yours, and remained asleep, making you grin. You ran your fingers through his hair, careful not to wake him, gently kissed his closed eyelids, breathed in his scent…

Despite your long day, though, you weren’t sleepy. Your head was buzzing with the artwork you had admired during the day, and your legs were growing a little numb in the messy tangle of limbs you and Andrew had made in your cuddling time.

So, gently, slowly, you started to untangle yourself from Andrew’s embrace, stopping a couple of times when he stirred. Eventually though, you got up, grabbed a bathrobe and opened the large window, stepping onto the tiny balcony. There was barely enough room for a flower pot, a couple of tiny chairs, but it didn’t matter. The streets were still pretty busy, the shushed buzzing of conversations and traffic humming above the city. A gentle breeze made you shiver, but you didn’t want to walk back inside for now. Instead, you admired the view, took in the lights that stained the night. You could see the Ponte Vecchio from your window, the splashes of light it created on the river. It was magical, beyond words…

You turned around as you heard shuffling in the bedroom, and you saw Andrew putting on a bathrobe as well, smiled at how tiny it looked on his long frame. He smiled when he caught your eyes, walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, pressing his chest to your back.

He kissed your hair, played with the belt of the bathrobe, ran his fingers on the little embroidery there, the same decorating his own, the initials of the hotel…

“What are you doing?” he asked, kissing your hair again.

You could hear the tiredness in his voice.

“Just admiring the view. You can go back to bed, baby. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I always notice when you leave our bed.”

You smiled at the simple confession, a mere statement of a fact. He rested his cheek on the top of your head, admired the view as well.

“It’s so beautiful here,” he mumbled without thinking.

“Hmm… it is.”

“We should move here.”

“Here?”

“We could say goodbye to the rain and the cold…”

“And our jobs.”

“We’re academics. We’re international, babe.”

You chuckled at that, but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m sure we could find a couple of spots, with a bit of patience.”

“You would have to really book these classes to learn the language,” you teased, and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Hmm… about that… I don’t know if it’s worth it, me doing that.”

“Really?”

“Considering our evening, it seems I don’t need to speak Italian to seduce you.”

You really looked for a cheeky comeback, but your brain was mushy feeling him grin into your hair, tightening his hold on you, imagining the light of mischief in his eyes.

He chuckled lowly, before letting out a long exhale.

“I think I’d still prefer to go home,” you whispered, and Andrew hummed as an invitation for you to go on. “This is so nice, but… it feels like a fairytale, like… like it’s not real. I can’t imagine myself filling up taxes in a place like this, you know? Or running late for work, or doing laundry… And this honeymoon is amazing, don’t get me wrong… but it’s not real. And I want to do real life with you. With the boring stuff too. Do you see what I mean?”

“That you really love filling up taxes? I’ll let you do all the work at home then,” he chuckled, and you rolled your eyes, pinching his arm in revenge, making him giggle.

“Andy! I’m serious!” you admonished.

“I know, sorry. No, I do understand what you mean. I want to do the boring stuff with you too. The simple stuff. The day-to-day stuff.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“But for now… we’re here, on our honeymoon. And in four days we’ll leave for Venice, and a week after that for Rome…”

“We really outdid ourselves with this trip,” you grinned.

“We did. And we don’t have to fill our taxes, so… let’s go back to bed. Tomorrow we’re going to the cathedral. And I want to eat at this tiny pizzeria we saw this afternoon. I had a good feeling about it.”

“Sure, we can do that.”

“Come back to bed… please, love… come back to bed…”

Your eyes lingered on the night sky, on the moon and the inky infinite beyond, on the tiny stars sparkling across it, on the lights of the city, vibrant with life, on the bridge that crossed the river and the sparks it ignited over the water.

You turned your back to it, facing Andrew. Your husband. God, you were still not used to the idea… you had gotten married less than a week ago… how crazy was that?

“Are you realising?”

“Realising what?”

“Like… is your brain registering the fact that… we’re married. We’re married, Andy. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. And we’re going to spend the rest of our lives loving each other. Isn’t that crazy?”

His hand rose to cradle your face, touch gentle, filled with tenderness. His gaze softened, and he didn’t have to say the words for you to feel loved.

“Honestly? The fact that you said yes when I proposed hasn’t sunk in yet, let alone the fact that you actually said I do…”

You laughed at that, rising to your tiptoes to drop pecks on his lips.

“No… no, I still can’t believe we’re married,” he shook his head, and you kissed the corner of his lips as he smiled. “I can’t believe I’m lucky enough for you to love me.”

You rewarded him with a kiss, long and intimate, feeling him lean into you, seeking your touch and your embrace.

When you pulled away, you looked up at him, stared at his hazel eyes. They looked fully brown in the dim orange of the streetlights.

“I can’t realise yet, either. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, honey.”

“Come on, let’s go back to bed,” you nodded, and let him pull you into the hotel room again.

You closed the window, climbed back into bed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes when Andrew took off his bathrobe and asked you to do the same.

“And here you go… just to get me naked in your bed again.”

He gave you a cheeky grin, toothy and almost boyish, so pleased with himself as you complied and slipped under the sheets fully naked.

He held you close the second you had settled into the bed.

“To be fair,” he whispered into your ear, voice deep, so deep it made a shudder travel up your spine and your head spin, “I just want to feel you against me. It’s reassuring and… intimate. To touch your skin. Not in a sexual way but… to simply feel close to you. Does that make sense?”

You heaved a sigh.

“How come you always say things that make me fall even more in love with you, huh? Even after all this time?”

He laughed, nuzzled his face against yours.

And soon enough, you were both fast asleep, your night filled with happy dreams…

“Love, hurry up! We’re gonna be late.”

Andrew was hurrying already, as he mumbled angrily under his breath. He stabbed his toe in the kitchen chair, cursing loudly, grabbing his lunchbox and hurrying to the hallway, where you were impatiently waiting for him.

“I know. No need to say anything,” he warned you, clearly annoyed, and you merely crossed your arms before your chest as he grabbed his jean jacket.

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” you said in a neutral tone, grabbing his bag as well as yours and walking outside the house.

Andrew hurried behind you, locking the door of your shared home and hurrying in the driver’s seat of his car.

It was your first day back to Trinity, back to reality, after your honeymoon, and he couldn’t pretend that it was going smoothly so far. It was his fault, to be fair, he and his inability to be on time…

He was surprised when you rested your hand on his thigh.

“Let’s not fight or get mad this morning,” you said, offering an olive branch. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have rushed you so much.”

He took a deep breath, and found it easy to relax while your fingers traced circles into his thigh through his blue jeans.

“I’m sorry for being always late,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Are you?”

He let out a long exhale.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

He gave your hand a squeeze before he had to place his hand back on the steering wheel.

A comfortable silence filled up the car again, until you turned on the radio. Van Morrison’s voice filled the vehicle, making Andrew smile.

“How many ‘congratulations’ do you think we’re gonna have to go through today?” he asked, making you chuckle.

“Like you’re not going to enjoy every single one of them…” you teased, giving his thigh a squeeze.

“I do enjoy the reminder that you accepted to marry me, out of all people.”

You leaned across the car to kiss his cheek, making his skin turn a little pink.

“Do you think the students are gonna notice?” he asked after a short silence.

“Probably. Especially for you.”

“Me?”

“You rarely wear rings,” you reminded him.

Andrew nodded, brushing his hair away from his face and readjusting his glasses.

“The chaos our love causes,” he chuckled, and you soon joined him.

“Tell me about it,” you teased, making him roll his eyes despite his grin.

“I give them a week,” he said, but you shook your head.

“You’re underestimating them, especially this group we’ve been teaching for years now... the ones who caught up on us dating.”

Andrew laughed at the memory of your students losing their minds in the cafeteria a couple of years before when he had kissed you in front of them. It was common knowledge on the campus that the two of you were a couple by now, but that you were newly-weds…

“Maybe,” he conceded. “Three days?”

“Aren’t you supposed to see Saoirse this afternoon?”

He nodded with a hum as an answer.

“Then the entire campus will know by tomorrow morning.”

“You think so?”

“Oh… yes…”

Andrew thought you were exaggerating. He didn’t notice how his student’s eyes grew round when she noticed his new wedding-band, nor the way she kept on looking in your direction during her time in your office, trying to spot your own ring.

But you were wrong. The entire campus knew by the end of the afternoon.

The whatsapp group had never been more active, a tidal-wave following Saoirse’s message.

THE LOVE BIRDS ARE FUCKING MARRIED!

[jamethinks]

New headcanon just dropped: Damian does not think he looks like his mother. At all. Ok picture this. The kids just learned about genetics and how facial features are inherited.

Henderson: therefore, kids look like a mixture of both of their parents. So if you pay close attention you can see what they got from their mommys and their daddies

Becky: but Anya doesn't look anything like her dad. Not a single feature was passed down. What a shame he's so cute. She would have 10x cuter.

Damian: she looks nothing like her mom either. Doesn't seem like either of them are her parents.

Ewen: yeah maybe she's adopted

Emile: her real parents did want her so they gave her to a crazy people doctor

Anya, adopted and possibly abandoned by her parents: 🥺🥺🥺

Becky, reaching in her bag: God bless Ameri-

Henderson: now now boys. That is an extremely cruel and inappropriate thing to say.

Henderson, petting Anya: Sometimes, one parent features overpower the others, so it's more than likely Anya just looks most like her mother. I personally resemble my father the most, and my daughter is the splitting image of her mom.

Becky: yeah exactly. She probably just looks like her mom and we don't know what she looks like because she dead. How do you feel now dorks?

Becky: and you're one to talk Damian. You look exactly like your mom too

Damian: yeah Anya I'm sorry you don't gotta cry ab- wait wait wait what did you just say? I look nothing like my mom

Ewen: nah dude I think she's onto something

Emile: yeah I was surprised when I first saw her

Becky, snickers: you know on Berlint In Love this one woman had a baby with another guy and lied and said it was her husband's.

Damian: hvjcjcjvjv

Henderson: Ms. Blackbell, how crass. Don't sully the good name of the former first lady. Damian just took more from his mother. There is no need to spread such vile rumors.

Damian: exactly- wait I didn't take anything from my mom. I look nothing like her. I look exactly like my dad

Ewen: your dad's cool and all but you look nothing like him

Emile: Demetrius sure but you? Nah. You're totally your mom

Damian, reaches into his bag and pulls out two photos: this is a photo of my dad. This is exactly what I look like

Emile: you carry around a photo of you and your dad as a kid?

Ewen: damn your dad does not blink.

Damian: WHAT? THATS MY MOM??? SHES WEARING A DRESS HOW COULD YOU THINK THATS EVEN ME?

Becky: hey man what you do in your spare time is none of my business

Emile: but seriously dude why do you even have those?

[my85volvo]

Part 3! I'm still working out how Tumblr works so I'm not sure if I have to tag @renmackree again? Or will you just see my update? God, I'm old.

The priest banged his head against the bed frame behind him in his scramble to move away. Simultaneously, the new follower sleeping in the bed jolted up and whipped his head around to stare directly at Derek before recoiling against the wall.

Derek was taken aback by the boy's hostility. Even the new follower seemed upset. Did he not do exactly as was asked? He left at the boy's command. He wore clothes befitting of his status--he had been more than accommodating. If this were 3,000 years ago, he would have easily found another to fill his role. But, as it stands, the old god needed him. And judging by the state of the accommodations in front of him, the boy needed him, too.

“Dude, do NOT wake me up like that anymore,” said the priest.

“Why are you so upset?” Asked Derek. “I did as you requested.”

The new follower was the next to respond.

“Um, what?”

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes, annoyed that these humans were so vexing.

“It's him, Scott. My hallucination,” the priest explained.

“He's wearing clothes.”

“That's all you have to say about this? He teleported into your room!” The priest flailed his arms for emphasis.

“He probably walked through the door!”

“How did he even know where I was?”

“Dude, you only go to, like, 3 places. You're not hard to find.”

“Eh-hem.” Derek cleared his throat to get their attention.

They looked like grown men, but apparently, it was acceptable for men of this era to bicker like children in front of a deity.

They both looked up at him expectantly.

“Now, today you are to receive my blessing as high priest. And you--"Derek looked at the new follower on the bed. “You may receive a boon as well since I am feeling generous. Though you will not delegate my priest to the floor again, as his station is far above yours. Understood?”

The new follower looked at him as if he had brown two heads.

“Amazon slipper orchid,” the priest declared, still seated at his feet.

“Pardon?”

“Prove to me that you're a god. Find me a living Amazon slipper orchid from the Rainforest.”

Derek crossed his arms and scowled.

“I am not an errand boy.”

“You asked what it would take to build my faith. This is it. no more tests.” The priest seemed honest, so Derek acquiesced.

“Fine. And then you will receive my blessing?”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Very well.”

Derek closed his eyes and concentrated on the beauty and lifesource of the flower. The last time he walked the earth, the people called it Lady's Moon, but its loveliness had not dwindled at all since then. When he willed himself to appear before one, the crisp forest welcomed him under a canopy of verdant leaves. Gingerly, he uprooted the flower from the remnants of a decaying tree, imbuing strength into the roots and protection through the stem.

When he stepped through the veil to return to his meager flock, he found the two men bickering. Again.

“I'm just saying, you can't trust him, Stiles! You don't know anything about him!” Cried the new follower.

“Dude, he's magic. Real, bona fide, hogwarts-level magic. How is your mind not exploding right now?”

“What if he wants to sacrifice you to his dark master or something? What if–”

“Eh-hem.”

They were both seated on the bed now, and at Derek's interruption, they both whipped their heads toward him. Their expressions were wide-eyed and weary, as if they were children caught stealing sweets before supper.

His priest was the first to speak.

“...you found it. You really found it,” he said with a chuckle.

“Did you doubt me, priest?”

“Yeah, actually. I kinda did.” The priest reached out to touch one of the delicate petals, but he thought better of it at the last moment and withdrew his hand. “And it's Stiles. My name, that is. Not priest.”

“Stiles,” Derek repeated with a smile.

“Um, excuse me, but we don't want anything to do with gods or magic, okay?” The new follower glared at him in defiance. “So you can go find some other priest and leave my friend alone.”

“That's Scott, just ignore him,” said Stiles with a wave of his hand.

“Stiles!” Scott threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Hey, could you conjure up a pot or something?”

“You said no more tests,” Derek said, eyeing him with suspicion.

“It’s not a test. I just don't want the flower to die while we wait.”

“Please, Stiles, can we just–” Scott interrupted.

“The flower is strong. It will be fine for many days,” Derek spoke over him. “You can place it upright in one of those empty tins if you like.”

Derek nodded towards the beautifully painted, deep red canisters stacked on the ground near the window.

“Alright, Dr. Pepper house it is.”

Stiles grabbed a can and shook out a few drops of liquid into his mouth, then motioned Derek to help him transfer the flower into its new home. Scott continued voicing his grievances while Derek ignored him.

“Dude, come on, you can't seriously be listening to this guy! He's dangerous!” Scott whined.

“He's hot, and he brought me flowers. Best first date I've had in a while, honestly.”

Stiles was still carefully stuffing the long roots into the can while he spoke.

“What if he hurts you?”

“I would never,” Derek growled. “He is my anchor to this world. To hurt him would be akin to cutting off my own arm.”

“Really? That's so sweet,” Stiles smiled.

Derek felt a grin come unbidden at the priest's words. Finally, Stiles was beginning to trust him.

“STILES!” Scott yelled, frustrated at his lack of influence.

“ENOUGH,” Derek boomed.

He spoke from deep within his body, letting his power bleed into the command. The window rattled, and the stack of painted cans toppled over at his voice.

“You may not command my high priest, boy. You are but a follower, not a ruler. Know your place.” Derek wouldn't tolerate the mistreatment of his own, no matter how ignorant they may be.

“I'm not your follower,” Scott said with a quiver in his voice.

He was clearly afraid to stand his ground, but he was still fiercely loyal to his friend. Derek admired his loyalty, though this misplaced tenacity was frustrating.

“Okay, let's all just take a breather here,” said Stiles. He had finished placing the orchid and was now holding his hands up as if to separate him from Scott. “Wolf of the Wool, please don't be mean to Scott. He's my best friend, and he's just looking out for me.”

Derek glared in response but said nothing.

“And Scott, I will literally explode from curiosity if I don't hang out with this guy and get some answers. Magic is real. This is my life now.”

Scott cast his head down, defeated. The three of them sat in uneasy quiet for a brief moment before Derek broke the silence.

“It's Wolf of the Wood,” Derek said.

“What?” Asked Stiles.

“You called me Wolf of the Wool. I am the Wolf of the Wood. You should know the name of the god you summoned.”

“Oh yeah, that makes more sense. But I definitely didn't summon you, dude.”

“Don't call me dude. And you swore an oath to me, then left an offering at my altar. What was your purpose if not to revive me from my slumber?”

“Did you…summon me by accident?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Derek cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Stiles was silent for a moment, staring at the ground and appearing to be in deep concentration. He finally looked up with a sheepish grin on his face.

“Whoops?”

Derek felt his face fall. All his excitement over coming back to earth and...he wasn't even wanted? Did Stiles believe in him at all?

"Did you ever want my blessing?" Derek said, his voice despondent.

"Um, not particularly?" Stiles must have felt pity for him, because he quickly amended his statement. "But I'm sure it's a great blessing! The best blessing! You can totally bless me, if you want. I'd be honored."

Stiles looked up at him, hopefully.

"You probably don't have anything prepared."

"Okay, what do I need to do?"

"This is stupid," Scott interjected.

"Different ages had different ceremonies, usually involving the whole tribe," Derek started, ignoring Scott's comment. "At the very least, there would be some sort of goblet or bowl of special significance that you would use to drink my blood--"

"Hard pass," Stiles said quickly.

Derek frowned.

"I mean, um, is there like another way to get the blessing? One that doesn't involve me swallowing your bodily fluids?"

"Of course. We can copulate."

"No way," Scott said.

Stiles was silent, but his face was turning a furious shade of red.

"That's, um, well...it might be worth a try," said Stiles, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Stiles, you can't be serious."

"Scott, did I get in your way when you were adamant about taking home Allison Argent even though she's definitely in a crazy murder cult? No. So don't cock block me."

"That was different, and you know it. She wasn't going to hurt me."

"She had a crossbow and handcuffs in her car. At school. At least this guy doesn't have any weapons. You don't have any weapons, do you, Mr. Wolf God?"

"I have no need of weapons."

"See Scott? It's fine. But...I'm not really, um, experienced with that stuff, so can we get to know each other first?"

Derek scoffed, as if the idea was beneath him. Honestly, this entire situation was beneath him. Since when did he have to beg to bestow a piece of his power to a lowly human? Would it be better if he just left, waited for the human to die, then went back to sleep? A part of him hated that idea. He yearned to experience this world with his new priest.

While he should be furious that humans were treating him with such insolence, he found that he couldn't fault Stiles for long. The boy was honest and pure, and Derek could tell that he had no selfish motives for power whatsoever. It was refreshing to have a high priest that didn't lust after position or status. It was...entirely new, actually. As frustrating as the boy was, Derek couldn't deny that he wanted to keep him close.

"Listen. If you won't take my blessing, at least take this."

Derek withdrew a small vial from his jacket pocket, plucked a hair from his head, and carefully closed it into the small tube.

"Having a piece of me close will connect us. You can call me, and I will come. If you are injured, swallow it to heal yourself."

"Um, thanks?" Stiles took the offered gift with some confusion.

"I was serious when I said I would not harm you. As my high priest, my blessing would protect you from aggression or disease. Without it...then it falls to me to protect you."

Stiles gave him a look that was somewhere between longing and sadness. Perhaps he was finally understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Yes. Until you choose to receive the blessing...if you choose to at all."

"So, now what? You just hang out in the woods until I call you?"

"Sounds boring."

"Yes, a bit."

Derek waited patiently while Stiles chewed his lower lip in thought, and Scott continued to scowl at them both. After a moment, Stiles seemed to muster up the courage to speak again.

"So, ummm...wanna go out for breakfast?"

That's it for now, I think! I really liked this prompt, and now I want to go back and rework a few things from the earlier parts. I’ll be adding this to my Ao3 WIP list, because I am physically incapable of writing something under 10k words, and it's getting a bit long for Tumblr. I was really happy to get some encouraging words in the tags, so thanks!

Derek is the old god of the forest, forgotten and unworshiped for centuries. Towns were built around his forests and the alter where once offerings were laid has been overgrown. Derek believes himself to be lost and resigns to an endless slumber.

That is until a college kid stumbles on his alter and offers the large stone wolf a piece of his sandwich.

Now, awake and once more worshiped, the god must protect his new high priest Stiles at all cost. Which means blending into a world he knows nothing about. And going to college.

[sickskz]

hello! i was curious as to what your skz member emeto headcanons are??

Oh my god, this woke up something in me mrhsbshden thank you for this!!!!

As I started writing, new ideas just kept coming - so this is a little all over the place 😂 I’m posting it now but I’m definitely going to have to come back and edit/add more 🤭 some of this is so random too- but I just feel it fits!

SKZ emeto/sick hcs:

Bang Chan:

- Definietly tries to go through it alone.

- His tummy is sOOO loud, gurgles and squeaks all over the place.

- Obviously, spicy food fucks him up. It’s even worse coming back up.

- “Oh, I’m- HRRRUGGHH- I’m fine 😊”

- Sometimes a quiet puker and sometimes a loud puker, it really depends.

- He groans, sighs and whimpers a lot when he’s really nauseated.

- Good at pretending he isn’t sick (confirmed by the members)

- However, if he’s got a really crampy stomach, his facial expressions may give him away..

- He also sweats a lot when he’s nauseous.

- Often gets reflux into his nose and it only makes him feel more sick. Plus, It burrnsss.

- Doesn’t want the others to worry, but he greatly appreciates their concern and accepts their coddling gratefully. He thinks they’re sweet.

Lee Know:

- Sucks at warning someone before he pukes…

- Gets cranky and quiet when he’s unwell and nauseous.

- Stares off a lot, but he already does that in general- so it’s hard to tell the difference.

- Has indeed worked himself to the point of puking from exertion before.

- This dude can walk, albeit pale, totally nonchalantly to the side of the road and ‘casually’ throw up like crazy before returning back to pretend like nothing happened. + might just hit them with a thumbs up to show he’s okay while the others look on, absolutely mortified by his indifference.

Changbin:

- Where tf his gag reflex at?

- Doesn’t throw up easily, which is both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes the nausea has him drenched in sweat and writhing in pain, but his body just won’t let it happen :(

- Might sit on the bathroom floor for the longest of times, blanket around him shoulders as he breathes shakily through the nausea.

- Definitely doesn’t mind having some company once in a while, it’s nice to have a lap to rest his head on.

- pretty pouty and sulky when he’s in pain.

- Has been so nauseous and desperate before that one of the members had to ‘help him out’ by pushing on his stomach or gagging him to help him get relief.

- Surprisingly not as loud a puker as you would’ve assumed. Generally louder at all times when he’s not puking.

- When he finally pukes it’s more the “Hhrup—“ followed by powerful waves of vomit gushing out of him, not giving him a break until he’s finished, left coughing and panting.

Hyunjin:

- You can, as with a lot of other things, usually tell how he’s feeling by his facial expressions long before he says anything.

- “I’m literally dying over here and you’re going to get boba? Just tell me you hate me and leave me to suffer”

- Sensitive gag reflex. 10x worse when he’s actually sick.

- Sensitive stomach too. Tends to disagree with new foods.

- Gets really emotional when he’s sick, lips wobbling and eyes glistening with tears.

- Loud puker, deep, heart-wrenching heaves that makes anyone cringe in sympathy.

- Dry heaves a lot even though he’s all empty, usually struggling to calm his body down. Someone rubbing his back and muttering some sweet words usually helps.

- Prefers having a bucket or something while being comfortable in bed or on the couch, rather than throwing up in the toilet. The toilet feels dirty and the floor is too hard on his poor aching body.

- Soaked in sweat, literally lays in a pool of it. It’s like he’s melting away.

- Gets motion sick and tends to forget his medication (so the others usually makes sure he gets them).

Han:

- Hates being alone when he’s sick. Can’t stand it.

- Clutches onto whatever he can for dear life, the toilet rim, another person, his clothes, anything.

- Struggles to catch his breath in between gags, which only makes him dizzy and even sicker.

- Seeks out any comfort he can get, leaning against someone, loves when they rub his back, brush his hair back, etc.

- Whiny </3 Complains a lot about feeling sick until the nausea actually reaches the ‘I’m gonna puke’ phase. Then, he goes quiet- a telltale sign of what’s about to go down..

- Covers his mouth with a shaky hand while the other clutches his stomach, staggering on his feet as he hurries to the bathroom.

- Throws up a lot, often many times after one another when he’s sick. May as well just camp out in the bathroom until it passes.

- Gets really bad stomach pain and cramps.

- Curls up into a ball of pity, all pouty and pale to the point of actually looking green.

- Holds his stomach a lot, hugging onto himself and rubbing his sour belly 24/7. Not opposed to letting someone else give him a tummy rub either.

- Give him cuddles, please. Any kind +++

- Often finds himself wanting sweets to comfort himself, but it comes right back up again and then he sulks about it.

- Also tends to get an upset stomach from stress and anxiety, but it’s only made him throw up a couple of times.

Felix:

- Is one of the members who actually seeks out one of the others and tell them if he’s feeling sick rather than stay quiet

- Really quiet and weak after throwing up, sluggishly clinging onto whoever he can reach

- Generally pretty clingy when he feels sick, he needs so have someone close to cuddle up against for comfort

- Harsher heaves makes his back hurt :(

- Often ties his hair back if he’s nauseous, prepared for what’s to come

- Also tends to get very emotional, sentimental even, especially if he has a fever. The smallest of things tip him over and it’s heartbreaking

- Crying makes him nauseous again though, so it’s a vicious cycle

- Coughs and splutters more than he heaves and gag, it that makes sense? Tends to choke too

- Low rumbly burps and belches

- Nauseous hiccups <3

- Super shaky, his legs are literally jelly. Might need a piggyback ride to his room or smth

- Passes out fairly easily from dehydration and fevers, much to his (and the others’) dismay…

- gets sympathy sick, especially if he’s already a little queasy already. So it’s a mess when many of them are sick at once :’)

Seungmin:

- He’s so stubborn..

- He’s barely holding it together but if someone asks ‘are you okay?’, he’ll be all ‘yeah, are YOU okay?’ Unless he’s already too nauseous to bother. Then he’ll just wave off any concern.

- He gets very ‘spacey’ and fidgety when he’s nauseous. Stares off into the distance, hands fiddling with the edge of his shirt or whatever it may be to try and ground himself.

- Sighs a lot when he’s nauseous, stifling a lot of silent chesty burps.

- When he first pukes, he has a very ‘let’s get it over with’ mindset, not really having space for any dramatics.

- Isn’t that loud when he pukes, but tends to choke and coughs quite a bit.

- Similarly to LK, he too is often bad at giving someone a warning before he gets sick. It can go from 0 to 100 reeeal quick.

- “*siiiiiigh* so….. I think I might be sick..” after having thrown up consistently for half an hour.

- Also holds his stomach a lot, often laying on his left side to get comfortable.

- He has a puppyM hot water bottle to his rescue and curls up with it on the couch or in his bed. Oversized hoodies are a must too.

- I feel like he has a tendency to get migraines that makes him nauseous as well..

Jeongin (I.N) :

- His body gets very tense when he’s nauseous.

- Also very quiet and withdrawn, tends to just ‘disappear’ and hide away if he can.

- Despite his maknae status he definitely doesn’t admit to feeling sick until he practically has to.

- Doesn’t want to be touched and needs some space at first. If he seeks out physical comfort on his own, he really isn’t feeling well..

- Does appreciate gestures like offering a cold towel, bringing him a glass of water, etc.

- A lot of nauseous burps, but he finds it embarrassing and tries to stifle them.

- Falls asleep a lot, anywhere and anytime.

- Often gets very dizzy and weak after puking so he does need someone to lean on.

- Not sure why but he usually has an emotional support pillow when he’s sick. Just a normal pillow usually. Always hugs it to his chest, sleeps with it, brings it with him to the bathroom for comfort, etc. it’s just something he tends to do, a habit of sorts.

- He was very very sick with the flu or something once (high fevers and vomiting) and threw up in his sleep- which almost had him choking hadn’t his members been around. Chan was absolutely traumatised after that and would not let Jeongin sleep ‘unattended’ for 1-2 months afterwards..

+++ I love the idea of both Chan and Felix starting to speak English when they’re really sick, especially when a fever is making them woozy or delirious. Or just finding comfort in someone speaking English to them <3

[spearxwind]

Snake freak compilation....

Been drawing snakes all day. Specifically rattlers/adders/vipers, those are the ones that remind me of him the most and they're also my fave kinds of snakes :]

I honestly just wanted to get the snake shapes right for this bastard. I've got a lot of practicing to do and probably will tweak this a lil more as per usual as I get more comfortable with it but so far I enjoy it immensely. Its really fun to draw

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[crossbackpoke-check]

"Bees" [remixed, abridged], Claudia Emerson // "Letter to Someone Living Fifty Years from Now" [remixed. abridged], Matthew Olzmann // "Letter to my Great, Great Grandchild" [remixed, abridged], J.P. Grasser | Len Redkole, Nina Weiss, Brian Babineau, Christian Peterson, Mitchell Leff, Dave Isaac, Megan DeRuchie

[fumifooms]

Typing the nightmares bit here made me think again about how Dunmeshi is a lot about promoting community— and that, even when community is a lot of what hurts characters. Like, everything is social, humans are social creatures with social lives, it’s hard to avoid, but still when looking at the dungeon lords’ troubles… Troubles with feeling secure within relationships, with feeling like they belong in their society or community, feeling rejected or unsafe or Other.

Struggling with judgement and superstitions like Laios, Falin and Kabru. Struggling with racism like Chilchuck and Kabru. Struggling with strict conformism like Senshi. Ableism, xenophobia, colonialism, hierarchy, Mithrun, Thistle, Namari. All victims from all exclusionist societies one way or another. Again, rejection, on both a wider and interpersonal level.

Ultimately Dunmeshi is about how good community is to have while uplifting everyone’s quirks and differences, but you can’t help but see how exclusionary and harmful some groups are and how identity, especially identity in a social setting, is what characters struggle with the most. What Laios is tempted by is to leave the weight of a human identity behind, flee everything human and social as a monster. With how difference or stepping out of line hurts people consistently across the board and how humanity & social bonds are sometimes framed as the source of pain, you can’t help but wonder a bit if this doesn’t lend itself to promoting a sort of self-less social system, like an ecosystem that behaves like some hivemind of mother nature, but no no that’s what the series is condemning—

The dungeon is not about how an ecosystem (a social life, a hierarchy, a community) is a well-oiled, scientifically calculated machine but about how every being in an ecosystem has a different role and behavior, and how each one is important specifically because their differences are complementary. Diversity is not only a strength it’s essential. Bonds are not only important they’re essential. Otherwise what will you do when a god needs slaying and you don’t have an hungry furry around, huh? What will you do when the dehydrated samurai and the dehydrated elf and their friend circles won’t eat your sister? But more seriously, a lot of the beauty of Dunmeshi’s cast is how truly different they are, in the way they think, in the judgements they hold, in the way they’ve lived. And even in the face of that how our protagonists have always reached out— how Dunmeshi says that it’s good to seek to understand what you do not. Differences can be overcame, differences can be celebrated. A monster is not a being of good nor malice, it just is, and it deserves to be considered a living being, too.

No no no but like, approaching this on an emotional level rather than societal one again— Dungeon Meshi showcases being human as a prison of sorts in many ways, especially in a social and emotional sense. Characters spend a lot of time being worried about laws and reputation, about social judgement and social rejection. Chilchuck, Toshiro, Namari, Marcille… Senshi prefers sidestepping the entire thing and keeping to himself. And on the other hand, Izutsumi doesn’t like her body and doesn’t want to deal with her emotions, she has to accept herself even if being a beastkin has attracted disdain and mistreatment to her. Your identity is not fully your own, it’s framed and shaped by those there to perceive, judge and shape it like reputations. Similarly, your feelings are your own, but shame, hurt, pride— sometimes you’re compelled against your will by others, by relationships, to feel. Laios is the most flagrant and literal example, wanting to become a monster with the mind of a beast to flee the trauma and emotional toll of human society.

In this line of thought, caring about people is a shackle in itself too, Chilchuck wishes he could be free of caring, for the party but also for his wife leaving him.

- Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

Chilchuck who doesn’t want to still be hung up on his wife even though he’s deeply hurt who pretends being mad over it who throws his arms up in the air and does nothing about it, even if he brushes it all under the carpet and acts like it’s barely a bump in the road who still speaks of his wife in present and future tense. Who can’t move on yet can’t find the strength to reach out and try and be rejected and hurt all over again. It’d be simpler if he didn’t care about what happens to the rest of his party, if he didn’t feel the urge to risk his life for them so they might be safer. It’d be simpler if he just never opens up to anyone again, if he just doesn’t try, if he keeps to himself and sabotages relationships and forces himself to believe that he. Doesn’t. Care.

Falin also was shackled not by anger but by love. Again that Dunmeshi theme where humanity and feelings and care can feel like a prison, on both ends (caring and cared for)! But connections and care are what it means to be human and none of us are free of them. None of them. Not even Senshi the thriving hermit. Senshi being a recluse who despite always staying at an arm’s length of people as a mentor figure or a temporary guest or a friendly business partner because memories of his first party still haunt him and he thinks the conflict was his fault and that he can’t fit into a group, like with the orcs… Who despite that does want to help others, tags along with groups, even if just for a fun time not a long time. And yet when shit got serious with Laios’ party, he stayed. Even though he keeps exploring post-canon, much like Izutsumi and the other characters still figuring some things out, even though it might feel so much easier to live a quiet life of solitude, he still wants social connections and can’t keep himself from caring.

"What do they call it- it’s like something about love- where it’s like Love compells you- like kinda forces you to act against your own volition- love calls you to be something other than you are, it challenges you and yet you want to be compelled by love, you want to be subsumed to something larger."

- Cj the X, How Jordan Peterson’s Suits Taught Me Fashion

[cerealbishh]

"You're pretty new at this whole relationship thing, huh?"

"... Yeah."

[3point14a]

kissing picrew because I like it a lot U_U