#so thank you Lost for giving us a character who needs glasses just because he's getting old and tired and human and that's it

[ananke-xiii]

[always-just-red]

I NEED some angst+comfort with Zayne PLEASE. It could be anything, the reader being run over in front of him, him being stressed about work and being mean to the reader... Literally anything

This was my first request, so thank you so much! I started this last night with a cup of tea and an "I'm sure I can manage some angst for Zayne, why not?" sort of attitude, and it culminated with me evil laughing to myself at 3am. Enjoy I guess? 😭

Reserved

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You've been looking forward to this dinner with Zayne for a week, but it seems he has other priorities.

Genre: angst, SO MUCH angst (but sshhhh... we save it with some comfort... 👀)

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, fluff, uses of y/n, reader is feeling neglected, Zayne gets a tiny bit mean

| Word count: 1.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Zayne… c’mon. Let’s go.”

You feel like a child, whining for what feels like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but you’ve little else left to do. You’re perched on Zayne’s desk, having long ago lost respect for the sanctity of his workspace, and you pout as you stare down at the phone in your palm. The screen is lit up by a reminder you’d set a week ago: Reservation. The Cerulean. 8 o’clock.

It’s 8:25, and you’ve snoozed it five times already— each time more pointedly than the last.

“Just a minute,” Zayne mumbles.

“You said that an hour ago!”

The man hums in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t look up from his computer. His face is bathed in the ghoulish light of the screen, his glasses shining as he dips his head— just a fraction— to glance at the paperwork spread before him. You give him his minute: let second after second tick by, though you mark each one with an idle tap on the desk’s cold surface.

A murmur: “Stop that, please.” His patience is thinning too.

You’re feeling petty, because you’ve been listening to the patter of his keyboard forever and it’s driving you insane. You purse your lips and tap louder. One second. Tap. Two seconds. Tap. Three. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Stop it.” Zayne’s hand catches yours, his grip soft, but his face stern.

And he still won’t look at you.

He releases your hand, and his dutiful fingers are back to their post, pattering away. With a huff, you come away from his desk, stalking past him to the window, where you fold your arms and study the barren street below. The view is obscured by the dark and the drops of rain that carve hazy trails down the glass. You can just about make out a couple, emerging from the hospital’s entrance. No uniforms. A patient and their other half, and they’re leaning on each-other— no— pushing each-other, competing for the cover of an umbrella that’s much too small. They’re laughing, you think.

Your chest aches.

“Zayne,” you press.

His chair rolls back, wheels harsh on the floor, and he’s standing, logging out of his computer with a final, few clacks. “I’m done,” he snaps, but his tone says otherwise. He tugs his coat from the back of his chair. “We can go.”

…

You sit on the edge of the wet pavement, rain seeping from your hair and soaking the fabric of your clothes. You should be cold, but you’re not. You’re nothing. Your eyes are cast downwards and all you see is grey, though it’s illuminated by an orange glow.

Behind you, light bleeds through the windows of a busy restaurant. Zayne is still in there, playing diplomat. Playing doctor: always trying to fix things.

Your phone buzzes, and you slip it from its home in your coat pocket. There’s a message: having fun? Then another: ur welcome, miss bodyguard.

Rafayel. He knows a guy who knows the guy who owns this place, so you’d called in a favour. You and Zayne had been drowning in work for a week: him, overwhelmed by new patients at the hospital, and you, out hunting the wanderers that had put them there. Linkon is getting worse. Everything is getting worse, and you just wanted one, single night for yourself.

Well, not just yourself.

The monotonous drum of the rain breaks to the creak of an opening door, but you don’t react. “Y/N?” Zayne sounds far away. “Where did you— Y/N!?”

Footsteps echo on the pavement behind you, splitting puddles, and the orange light is gone. You’re trapped by a shadow that’s talking, speaking your name, but you pretend you can’t hear it. Let him say it a hundred times. A thousand; you can wait.

“Just a minute,” you lilt, your voice dripping spite.

You’re going to sit here for an hour.

“Y/N…” The doctor is oh so patient. “Please get up. You’ll catch a cold if you—”

“Good!” you spit, rounding on him. ��Then why don’t I check myself into the hospital? Maybe then you’ll actually think about me once in a while!”

Zayne is towering over you: a small, wet, pathetic little thing, but you still make him draw back. His virescent eyes are wide, his lips parted ever so slightly. He almost always knows what to say, but this is an exception.

After a long moment, he moves around you. Slowly, he lowers himself to sit at your side.

“Do you have any idea,” you start, staring out across the slick road, “how selfish you make me feel? How much I hate myself when I… when I ask you to…”

The confession catches in your throat. It hurts, but you force it out anyway:

“What you do is so important, Zayne. You’re saving lives. You’re giving people back to their families, their loved ones, and you’re amazing for that. I think you’re amazing for that. But I miss you. It feels like I have to share you with the rest of the world, and I know I have no right to ask it, but sometimes? Sometimes I just… want you to be mine.”

You’re looking down, now. Hugging your knees— burying your face, so he won’t see you cry. There’s rain and salt in your mouth, and you wish he would say something. Anything. 

You have to wait a few seconds, but then you feel it: something heavy being draped over your shoulders. His coat. Then his arm is around you, drawing you close, closer, until you’re nestled against his chest.

“You have every right to ask,” he soothes, his tone so warm when it’s compensating for the rest of him. “I am yours, Y/N. I will always be yours.”

“But your work—”

“Can wait,” he finishes for you. “I know I forget that sometimes. And I’m sorry. But you?”

He lifts your chin, gazing down at you with something you can only describe as adoration.

“There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Your heart flutters at the words and the feathery touch of his thumb on your cheek, wiping away a tear. It’s futile in a downpour, but it still makes you smile. Rain is spattering on your forehead, some dripping from his now-soaked hair, and you laugh as he tries to dry your face with his sleeve.

“You’re important to me, too,” you manage between chuckles, “and I’m sorry, too.” Your cheeks are flushed, even in the cold. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“No.” A statement: not up for debate. Zayne untangles your limbs from his as he helps you stand. “We have a reservation.”

“We had a reservation. They gave away our table, Zayne.”

“Did they?”

There’s a hint of smugness. “Wait… what did you—”

He nods at the restaurant, and you follow his glistening gaze to where a waiter is holding the door— a menu clutched above his head, shielding him from the rain. He’s looking back at you. Waiting.

“Rafayel isn’t the only one with friends in high places,” Zayne smiles, leaning down to speak into your ear, and it makes you shiver. “The head chef is a friend of mine. I saved his brother’s life, you know.”

[cripplecharacters]

Hi there, i have a character in my original story who is blind, specifically because he lost both eyes (one from injury, one from infection at birth). However, he doesn't have access to prosthetic/glass eyes as he lives in a secluded group of warriors. I've been drawing him with a blindfold to protect from infection, but upon reading your posts about eye coverings on blind characters, i'm unsure if this is offensive or not, but i also can't think of a good alternative other than going bare. He is a warrior, so i don't think glasses would stay on for very long, but i'm wondering if maybe goggles would work? Hes not the only blind character i have (one of the others is a born-blind cane user who does not wear glasses) but i still don't want to misrepresent or spread misinformation. Any help would be appreciated, thanks

Hello!

@blindbeta has an excellent post on the subject, which I'll link here [Link].

In your character's case, the cover would serve more for protecting their eyes and less for photophobia or other sensitivities. One of the points that's mentioned heavily in the post is to ask why your character is using a cover for their eyes.

In this case, you've already answered that question. Your character needs to protect their eyes from infection and further damage but doesn't have the option of prosthetics and glasses are inconvenient and could fall off or get in the way.

That being said... wouldn't a blindfold also get in the way?

A blindfold would be more of a problem in combat than a pair of glasses with a strap securing them. A blindfold gives his opponent another way to grab onto him (Think of ponytails) or something else to get caught on.

Also, if the goal is preventing infection, a blindfold would do the opposite here. Fabric is notorious for encouraging the growth of bacteria, fungi, and other microorganisms. When it's pressed up against your character's eye sockets while they're fighting and sweating, it's also creating a very humid and moist environment.

Back when I was still rock-climbing and would go blindfolded, the blindfold would become gross and sweaty after just a few rounds. I don't even want to think about how it would have been after a day of fighting and adding in the blood and other fluids that would be on it. This can be especially problematic if your character is living in a secluded place where he may not be able to properly wash the blindfold as often as needed.

In general, the goggles (Or a pair of secured glasses) may be a better way to go. They'd be less of a liability in combat and be much more effective at preventing infection than a blindfold would be. There's also the fact that they would be much easier to clean if it ends up being necessary.

Now, you didn't specifically ask about this but I would just like to point out that prosthetic eyes aren't just used for preventing infection. Prosthetic eyes allow you to maintain the function of your eyelid and ensures that your eye socket keeps its shape. Depending on your character's circumstances, this may or may not be a concern for them.

Regardless, I'd definitely suggest looking into this and giving it some thought if you haven't.

Here's a few links to get you started:

A brief article discussing the benefits of prosthetic eyes.

An article that talks about prosthetic eyes in general. It also includes some brief information on prosthetic eyes in the past, which may be of interest to you.

Some FAQs about prosthetic eyes. Most of this is more specific to the current prosthetics offered but has some general info as well.

If you haven't done so already, I'd also advise checking out the linked post from @blindbeta since it has some excellent information about the specific trope.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icaus

[strang3lov3]

Sore Loser

Roman’s face is soaked in your wetness, he’s made a mess of himself devouring you whole. Once you’re close, he pulls away, triggering a cry of frustration from you. “Now? Forgive me yet?”

“No,” you seethe.

Tags - stepdaddy!roman, smut, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, dirty talk, nipple sucking + titty play, waluroman roy, uhhhhh idk. The usual. You know what you’re here for. A/N - just needed to get this out of my system. did i promise jack delroy freak nasty period sex, yes. but i just have a lot of stepdaddy thots and it's a curse, really. you understand. Thank you @endlessthxxghts for editing!!

Stepdaddy!Roman Masterlist

A box of half-eaten pizza and breadsticks sits on the ottoman that is pushed out of the way, and you’re on the couch, not allowing yourself to sit comfortably as Roman uses his Nintendo Switch Joy-Con to adjust the aim of the digital bowling ball he’s about to roll. Roman, of course, insisted on being player one, not that his choice gave him the upper hand in the game at all. He’s at a pathetic score of 83 right now. You’re at 237. 

Roman launches his ball, not hoping for any score in particular. It’s the last round anyway. Aaaaand…right into the gutter. 

“This is such fucking bullshit,” Roman whines, tossing his red Joy-Con onto the couch before taking his seat next to you. “I know it was before your time, but bowling on the Wii was much better than whatever this shit is.”

“You’re just pissed off that I’m winning,” you retort. “And I was around for the Wii, asshole. I used to make you play Mario Kart with me.”

“Then you’d know how much better it was,” he says. “This shit? This is garbage. Why are there obstacles, what even is that?”

You roll your eyes and grab your own teal Joy-Con, then stand up to play your last turn. After lining up your ball, you’re in the process of letting it go when Roman leans forward and squeezes your ass, startling you and in the process, fucking up your roll. “Dickhead,” you huff. You play your second turn and earn yourself a spare anyway, winning the game. 

Roman watches you spin around with a big, stupid grin on your face. You lift his hand and force him to hold it there so you can high-five him. “Ow,” he complains, with no real hurt in his voice as he squeezes your hand, holding you there. “Be gentle with me. I’m a very fragile man, kid, you know this.” 

“Oh, I know it.” 

Roman rolls his eyes. Walked right into that one. “Watch it,” he warns, dropping your hand. He flutters his fingers in the absence of your touch, missing the weight of your hand in his palm. “New game. I’m sick of Switch Bowling.” 

“Only ‘cause you lost.” 

“You know, they say you’re either good at bowling or you’re good in bed. So really, if we think about it, who’s the real loser here, huh?”

Roman’s taunt earns him a shy smile tugging at your lips as you avoid meeting his gaze. He stands up and pats your cheek gently, feeling the heat of the blood rushing through your skin. “I like that Mario Kart idea. Haven’t played that one in a while,” he tells you, making his way to the entertainment center where you keep all of the Switch games. He kneels on the floor and pulls out Mario Kart from a glass cabinet, opens the game case and puts the little card into the console, running a hand through his sleek hair as the game boots up. Roman takes his place on the couch, and you slide off of it and sit between his legs on the floor, resting the side of your face against his knee. 

Roman’s player one again, of course. The cheerful music plays as Roman picks a course. He carefully browses through each one, but settles on Coconut Mall anyway because he knows it’s your favorite. And when it’s time to choose your character, Roman snags Princess Peach, the character he knows is yours. 

“Hey, give her back. Peach is mine.”

“No, I uh- I don’t think so. Pretty sure Peach has always been mine.” 

“That’s not true, Roman, you’re always Y-” you turn around and look up to see Roman snickering and smiling down at you. “Fuck it. I’ll be Yoshi, then.” You move the joystick on your controller and choose Yoshi as your character.

“Oh, like hell you’ll be Yoshi.” Roman reaches down and attempts to pry your Joy-Con from your hands, but fails. “Fuck you. Give him back or I’ll play as Wario and make everything worse for us both.”

“Heh,” you laugh. “Waluromey.” 

Roman rolls his eyes, dramatically shaking his head. “Cute. Whatever, I guess I’m Peach,” he mumbles, moving to the screen where you design your vehicle. “She suits me, don’t you think? Because I do have the perfect peach. And eggplant. And cherries.” 

His words get a rise out of you, just as he intended. You tell him how much you hate him and all the stupid shit he says and yet, your smile betrays you. Your cheeks and ears warm as your mind drifts to all those euphemistic parts of him. “Start the fucking game, Roman.” 

And so he does. Roman’s unfamiliar with the controls of Mario Kart on the Nintendo Switch, so he has trouble taking off. You race right to first place, lapping him in no time. 

Fucking Joy-Con. Too small for the hands of an adult. Roman’s brow is pinched in concentration, and he’s trying his best to ignore your giggles and the way you brag and taunt him, calling him technologically inept and cracking jokes at his middle-aged-ness. Fuck you. You think you’re hilarious when you finish your third lap and Roman’s still on his second, getting lost in the split screen. He spent a good three minutes focusing on Yoshi rather than Peach.

“They say if you’re bad at Mario Kart, you’re also bad in bed, you know. And you’re in twelfth place.” 

Roman kicks you in the thigh, knocking you off balance a bit. “Fuck off.” 

Your fingers crawl under the fabric of his pants and you curl your hand around his leg, waiting patiently for him to finish the race. Finally, he does. “Wow, Roman. That was awful, even for you. I didn’t even have to blue shell you for you to fuck up that bad.” 

Roman laughs mockingly. “Shut up and pick another course. We’re playing again.” 

You pick a waterpark course, one you’re less familiar with. You turn around again to look at Roman, who seems aggravated. His competitive streak. You point to his A button on his Joy-Con, “Press this at like, two, when the game is counting down. You’ll take off quicker.” 

“Obviously,” he mumbles. “Did you just figure that one out?” 

Roman uses your tip when the game starts again, and he’s doing better than he was before, until you hit him with a squid. And then one of those lightning bolts. And a banana peel, and a blue shell. Once again, you’ve lapped him before he’s even completed his first. And Roman can’t seem to hit one of those magic, rainbowy question mark boxes that you’ve been hitting in spades, giving you all sorts of overpowered one-ups on him. 

So Roman decides he’ll utilize his own power-up. 

“I could beat you playing one handed,” he says. 

“What, so you can jerk yourself off with the other?” 

“Close. Do you care if I try?”

You nod, barely paying attention to him. Roman holds his controller in one hand, leans over you, and with his free hand reaches into your henley pajama top, cupping one of your breasts.With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches your nipple gently, twisting it between the two digits. You gasp in response to his touch, biting down on a moan. “Rome…”

“You said I could try,” he replies, semi-focused on you, more focused on Mario Kart. 

“But this - ah - you’re ch-”

“Cheating?”

“Yeah,” you moan. 

“What are you gonna do about it?”

You drop your controller and your head tilts back into Roman’s lap, resting against his thick bulge. With your eyes closed, you relish in the feeling of Roman teasing you, now paying attention to your other breast. He squeezes it firmly, then circles your areola with his fingertip. It pebbles under his touch.  

Roman’s playing with one of your breasts, and you reach for the other. You moan and gasp loudly, “Shhh,” Roman hushes your noises. He gropes your breasts for a few moments longer, then takes his hand away to focus entirely on the game in front of him. He’s been playing it steadily this whole time, now having worked his way up to fifth place. Roman tsks. “Fuck, look at that. You’re in twelfth place. Oof.” 

“Roman, you-” you interrupt yourself to groan in irritation, then straighten out your shirt and pick your controller up to race through the course. “...fucking dick.”

 Roman laughs. He’s managed to collect blue shells and banana peels and even worse, he’s managed to learn to use them. And now, he’s worked his way up to first place while you’re still stuck at last. 

The game ends. He wins, of course. “Wow, kid. That was awful, even for you,” Roman mocks, rubbing it in. You turn around to glare at him. “What?”

“That wasn’t cool.” 

“I thought it was cool.”

“It was bullshit,” you complain. “You’re bullshit.” 

Roman exaggerates a pout and does little to hide his smirk.  “So upset when you don’t get your way,” he murmurs through his smile. 

“Fuck off. I’m pissed off at you now.” 

“Yeah,” Roman says, sliding off the couch to meet you on the floor. “You tell me, sweetheart. Really let me have it. Tell me how fucking pissed you are.” 

“I am! It was supposed to be a fun game and you just had to behave like a fuck- oh,” you moan, because Roman’s lifted up your shirt and is now toying with your nipples again. He lays you on the carpeted floor, circling one of your nipples with his tongue as he pinches the other. 

“You were saying?”

“You…”

“Sore loser,” Roman mumbles, now sucking on the sensitive bud. He kisses the surrounding flesh, kisses his way across your chest to repeat the action. And you’ve gone silent. Not really, as you’re still moaning and whining his name, but you’re out of any words beside Roman. 

He kisses down your torso and pulls the drawstring of your pajama bottoms, then slides your pants down your legs and kisses over your mound, pushing your knees toward your chest. Roman looks down at your body, all soft as you’re folded in half for him, pussy glistening with creamy ribbons of your arousal. “You’re fucking soaked,” he says, his breath hot against your core. “So sensitive. You don’t take much at all.” Roman wastes no time in eating you, licking you from bottom to top, eliciting a loud cry of his name. “Listen to that moan. Holy shit,” he laughs. 

Roman traces your folds with the tip of his tongue, then circles it around your clit. “Do you forgive me?”

“No,” you breathe. 

“Hmm.” Roman sucks on your clit, causing you to writhe and squirm beneath him. “How about now?”

“No.”

He pushes two fingers into your entrance, curling them rhythmically as he licks you. You arch into him, hands tangling in his hair. He loves when you do that. 

Roman’s face is soaked in your wetness, he’s made a mess of himself devouring you whole. Once you’re close, he pulls away, triggering a cry of frustration from you. “Now? Forgive me yet?”

“No,” you seethe. 

Roman only smirks. He kneels above you, pulls off his shirt and shucks his own pajama pants down his legs, where his cock slaps against his stomach. He strokes it once, twice, then lines it up with your entrance and slides inside you. “Now?”

“Mmm, not q- not quite,” you hum as he bottoms out, instantly building a pace. You wrap your legs around his torso and rock your hips into each of his thrusts.

“Just give it a minute. You’ll get there.”

Roman kisses you, swallowing your moans. You hold his bare shoulders, nails digging into his skin. He braces himself on his forearm as he rolls his hips into you, and wriggles his hand in between your bodies. While rubbing your clit in circles, Roman fucks you perfectly, deeply and at a swift pace. 

Your moans become frantic, and Roman feels your heat pulsing around him. “You close?” he pants.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Roman nods back, his movements never faltering. In quick time, your orgasm courses through you. You come hard on Roman’s cock, your pulsing walls coaxing along his own release. He comes inside you with moans of his own, whispering your name as his thrusts slow to a still. 

With Roman still inside you, you and he catch your breath together. “There. Now do you forgive me? Did I make it all better?”

“No,” you tell him. “I still hate you.” 

Roman rolls his eyes. “You’re impossible,” he tells you. He removes himself from you with a soft groan, quickly cleans you both up, and queues up another game of Mario Kart. This time, he plays fair. 

-

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[bookshelf-dust]

love and mandrakes

sirius black x gn!reader

word count: 5,220

warnings: swearing, fluff, i think that's literally it, but let me know if it's not

a/n: hi! so this is new!!! a new character!! sirius black is the loml, and i've been working on this for what feels like forever. i'm really proud of it, and i hope that maybe some of you will like it. it's been very fun to explore a new universe and the marauders as a whole. i hope you enjoy this!! love you 3000 <333

————

The greenhouse windows are frosty this morning, and you can feel the chill seeping in through the thin glass panes. You fight the urge to lift your finger, using the tip to draw a face in the condensation gathering on the one nearest you. 

You’re stood at the back of the greenhouse, like always. You’ve never liked to be very close to Professor Sprout–certainly not because of any disdain towards the woman–but for the fear that she’d have something negative to say about your work. This is despite the fact that she’s been nothing but kind to you regarding every plant that’s ever been in your care.

Really it’s just that you’d beat yourself up if you killed a plant that makes you so determined to do well.

You’re twenty minutes early for class today. Early enough that it’s just you and Professor Sprout in the greenhouse. Everyone else likes to stumble in within the five minutes before class begins.

But clearly, that’s not quite the case this morning. The greenhouse doors open, both rather than just one, and Professor Sprout turns to greet whoever it is.

“Good morning, Mr. Black.”

You look up. Sirius Black is never early to class. If anything, he’s usually either not there at all, or the absolute last one to find his way in, perhaps a half hour late, if not more. He sidles up to Remus Lupin, and suddenly they've got a lovely little group project on their hands.

“Remus won’t be in today, Professor.” Sirius gives her a look that you assume is supposed to induce sympathy on her part. “Seems he’s got a cold.”

Pomona has never found it in herself to be frustrated with the boy, unlike the majority of her colleagues. She’s one of the few professors at the school to not harbor particularly malicious feelings towards the boy. He might be a troublemaker, but who isn’t at that age? 

She’s been briefed on what his home life is like, too, and who he has to put up with. And since she was a young girl, Pomona has been determined to give everyone a fair chance.

"Thank you for letting me know," she tells him.

You watch as Professor Sprout heads to a supply closet and begins to pull out heaps of gloves and what look to be earmuffs, messily tossing away the things she doesn’t need. You're lost in observing her, so consequently the voice sounding a few inches from your ear startles you.

"You always in this early?" Sirius has materialized next to you, the beginnings of a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. 

You glance at his hand where it lingers over the stem of a plant you’re not sure he should dare to touch. He’s got a ring on every finger excepting his thumb.

“Usually,” you say. It occurs to you that these are some of the first words you've ever spoken to the boy, if you don’t count bare minimum exchanges in the odd class. “I like it back here.”

You like it back there because less people can look at you. Because having to sit somewhere else stresses you out, not to mention throws you off. You feel safe in your little corner. 

Sirius withdraws his hand from the questionable plant and raises his head. His eyes bore into yours. They’re the strangest shade of blue. It seems to shift in the light, and sometimes they look almost gray. He grins, and then begins to scan the area around the both of you.

“Suppose it is nice. Maybe I’ll stay back here with you. Wouldn’t want you to be lonely, you know.” 

You snort at that and he quirks a brow at your amusement. Sirius pushes his hair behind his ear and you realize he’s got a silver industrial piercing.

“That hurt too bad?” You ask, gesturing towards the jewelry and hoping he knows what you mean. He does.

His thumb skips over the metal ball at one end, coming back to fiddle with a section of his robes. He leans forward, grinning at you. His smile is wide. The corners of his mouth tick up mischievously, smile lines conveying layers of mischief you know he must have hidden in that mind of his. 

“Probably wouldn’t have as much if I’d gone to a shop.”

You gasp lightly, thinking about it getting infected and Sirius having a bloody mess on his hands.

“You did it yourself?” You ask, eyes wide and full of concern.

He laughs. It’s a gorgeous sound, deep and friendly. Warm.

“I was prohibited,” he says, pressing a scandalized hand to his chest. “Remus did it for me over break, while my brother played nurse.”

“Well it looks nice,” you tell him, palms beginning to sweat. You find his presence to be slightly overwhelming. “I mean I think so.”

“Thank you, sweets.” He bends slightly at the waist, hand over his stomach, and it’s a gesture you might take as being that of an asshole, if it weren’t for his voice being so kind.

You hum in place of a you’re welcome, trying to will away the swarm of butterflies in your tummy. They’re being rather aggressive. 

“And for the record,” he adds, “Remus was very strict with my cleaning regimen, so I did not get any infections if that’s what you’ve been contemplating.”

“That’s good.” You smile. You’re not sure it’s anywhere near as pretty as his.

Professor Sprout claps her hands, startling you. Today is really not your day. Sirius snorts at your jolt, but when you glance at him he’s pretending to be intensely focused on your instructor.

“Morning, everyone!” she begins. “Today, as you may have guessed, we will start our lessons on Mandrakes. This particular lesson will focus on basic knowledge, as well as care, but come next class, your actual project will begin.”

“You’re going to need a partner, so I’ll give you a few minutes now to choose, that way you can prepare with one another prior to the main exercise.”

All at once, everyone turns to this person and that, chattering and deliberating. It seems everyone has someone.

Your heart starts to pound, and you wonder if maybe Professor Sprout might let you work independently. Pairs are forming, and you can feel yourself being left out, pushed to the edges of society. Maybe that’s dramatic, but it’s how you feel. 

You lean against the table behind you, hoping that she won’t call you out for not having a partner. That is until there’s a figure in front of you.

“What’d you think, huh? Shall we work together?” Sirius stands so that you have no other choice but to look back at him. It’d come off rude to not maintain eye contact at this distance. 

You feel yourself burn and can’t help but wonder if this is some sort of cruel joke.

“Wouldn’t you rather wait and join Remus?” You ask, fingernails picking at the wooden underside of the table.

“You think I’m using you as a fill-in?”

You shrug, rubbing your nose. “We’ve quite literally never spoken an actual conversation before today. I just thought you’d want to work with your friend and not some stranger.”

“Well there’s a first for everything, isn’t there? And you’re not a stranger. I see you all the time.” 

You sigh. He grins, ever pleased with himself. 

“You don’t want to be friends with me?” He teases.

“I—”

“No, it’s quite alright. I’ll see if good ‘ol Mona will help me out.” He turns like he’s going to march away, though his feet barely move. He’s not going anywhere and you both know it. 

“Holy shit,” you start. “Just shut up. Go and get the gloves then.”

Sirius grins. “Demanding, aren’t we?”

He does go and get them though, returning with two sets of gloves and a pair of shears, as Professor Sprout had instructed.

“Today, we will focus on tending to your Mandrakes. I want you, in your pairs, to check the soil and water as needed. I also want you to trim the leaves, as these have been left to run amok for a while. To work!”

Chatter erupts around you, bouncing against the glass walls of the greenhouse.

You fetch a watering can while the area is still free, and Sirius fills it up for you. You notice that your Mandrake is severely lacking the soil it needs. It’s not very well off at all.

“Do you see this?” You ask him, gesturing towards where the roots are showing, clearly dehydrated and with nowhere to sprawl out and grow. “She’s got us treating the wounded.”

Sirius crosses his arms. “That’s a damn shame now, isn’t it? Guess we better heal this thing then.”

“Are you fucking with me?” You ask, eyes darting up to meet his.

“No, I swear. I can tell you’re into this. It’s not my best subject.”

“Well you know what they say.”

“What do they say?” His eyes are gleaming. That’s the best word you can think to use for it. 

“Teamwork makes the dream work.”

He rolls the very same eyes. “I’d like a new partner after that one.”

You laugh, and Sirius feels a pang in his chest. Like he’s taken a blade to the heart, and he can’t do anything but let it happen. Your laugh is such a sweet sound and he worries it might be the death of him.

You slip your gloves on and start trimming the leaves that have to go. There’s quite a few of them, but luckily they seem to be towards the bottom of the stem, and you think once you’re able to water it, the Mandrake might have a chance.

You finish with the shears, and set them down. You look up at Sirius, and your eyes catch a group of buttons on the shoulder of his robes. His hair had been covering them before. You find yourself feeling warm inside, as one in particular tickles your fancy.

“I like your pin,” you say.

His brows shoot up, “Which?”

You use your pinky and tap the glossy finish. He watches. “That one.”

“The Queen one?”

You nod, shoving some more soil into your pot to try and save the roots.

“You listen to them?” Sirius leans down so that his face is next to the Mandrake and in your line of sight. He’s got this brilliant grin. It’s worrying you. For a moment you think he might say something cruel, but the look in his eye is almost boyish.

“Yeah,” you say. “My mom is a muggle. Fell for a dorky wizard boy. So she’s raised me on loads of good stuff.”

“Lucky duck, you.”

You snort and then look up at him, though he's already been looking at you. His eyes haven't left you the whole time you've been working. He finds the way you treat the plant as if it has feelings to be charming. He wonders if you take care of everyone like that. Or maybe even yourself.

You move the soil pouch towards him. "You gonna help me?"

He slips his gloves back on. They really don't match anything he's wearing, and frankly it bothers him a bit. "Of course, of course."

He starts tending to the plant and you watch, noticing the bumps left in the gloves where his rings are hiding underneath.

"Feed her, Seymour," you say, and Sirius whips his head towards you.

"Who the fuck is Seymour?"

"Muggle film. Musical actually. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry for exposing your nerdiness. What's the film about? Talk to me," he proclaims, wincing at the state of his soil work.

“This guy, Seymour, finds a plant, and he tries to take care of it, you know, as you do, but he figures out it only wants blood and meat to eat and that’s what he feeds it, so it keeps growing and growing until it’s big enough that it starts eating people.”

Sirius looks at you with wonder in his eyes, and starts to laugh. "Are you fucking with me, love?"

You start to smile, one that you at first try to suppress, but it ends up spreading across your face, softening your features. Sirius thinks maybe it's the prettiest smile he's ever seen. He can't get over the way the lines around your mouth form, or the way your cheeks bunch and your eyes light up.

"No, I promise."

The boy tugs his gloves off, having finished salvaging the soil for your plant. "Killer plants, huh?"

"Indeed," you say. "You know Mandrakes are killer too, right?"

"Stop."

You start to water the plant, trying your best not to drown the damn thing. "What do you think the earmuffs are for, dumbass?"

You immediately regret calling him a dumbass, thinking you may have crossed a line--it's not like you know him all that well, you've only been speaking for this one class period--but he only smiles at you.

For some reason, you find him easy to be around. He doesn't scare you.

"It's cold."

"Because it's cold? No. After we save the plants we have to re-pot them, and when we take them out they're going to scream. Their cries are fatal, Sirius."

He stares at you. Remus did not tell him this. Technically he could've read his textbook, but clearly he didn't.

"That seems highly uncalled for."

You chuckle and he grins again.

"I agree,” you say. “Have you got the time?”

Sirius pushes his sleeve up, glancing at the watch tight around his left wrist. “We’ve got five minutes left.”

You look up, and notice Professor Sprout removing her gloves. If you’d waited to ask for just a moment longer, she would’ve begun her everyone-get-your-shit-together-and-get-out-of-here speech. 

“Students, your attention please!” Professor Sprout’s cheeks are rosy, tufts of curls sticking out from under the brim of her hat. 

“Next class we’ll try and get the Mandrakes repotted, so that they may grow to their full potential and can then be used as needed for Madam Pomphrey. You’ll need to come and water your plants periodically throughout the week, as these tend to drink rather quickly, so I suggest you alternate days with your companion.”

When you’ve finished and you’re outside once again, it’s misty, your skin dampening with each step you take. 

You feel a hand on your elbow, and Sirius has appeared next to you. Frankly, you hadn’t expected him to continue contact with you. 

The both of you had discussed what days you’d water you plant, and you assumed that was that. 

“I’ve realized we’re co-parenting a Mandrake,” he starts, “and I feel as though I should at least know a little something about the mother of my child.” You raise your eyebrows at him. “You know, to ensure that they don’t grow up lacking proper guardianship.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, hopping over a puddle. 

He tosses his head back, laughing, and you feel your insides go all warm and gooey at how his hair moves with the motion. You can’t help but wonder what it feels like. 

“First, you don’t want to be friends, and now, you want our child to be one of divorce.”

You stop, resting your forehead against the cool stone of one of the courtyard walls. 

“Sirius, we haven’t even been married.”

He presses his forehead against the stone next to you, and you turn to look at him. “I’m pretty sure there are a good bit of people who’ve been married and know less about each other than we do,” he says. 

You smile at the wall and he catches it. 

“Besides, we’ve got the same music taste, and that means I’ve got to keep you around.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s how this works. Didn’t you know?”

You brush at the side of your robes where you’ve now gotten moss remains on them. “I was not aware, no.”

“Haven’t you got class or something?” You ask him. His cheeks are pink from the cold, a stark contrast from the chill of his eyes, the sharp black of his hair. 

“Not for another hour. You?” 

“Yeah, actually.”

“So tell me something quick.” He spins a ring around his finger, a chunky silver one with something set into the center. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously?”

He smiles. It’s gorgeous and full-fledged. You can’t believe he’s looking at you like that. It feels like some big error. 

“Sorry I set myself up for that one,” you say. “Um, it’s green.”

“Lovely. Now what shade of green are we talking?”

“Sirius.” You pout. 

“Come on now, chop chop.” He snaps his fingers. “Thought you had an excuse to ditch me or something?”

You roll your eyes. It seems that cocky ass grin never leaves his face. “Like a forest green. Trees and such.”

Sirius claps his hands together, metal clinking. “That’s fantastic. I’ll be sure to remember it. Mine’s purple, by the way, thank you for asking.”

“I bet you look stunning in purple, Sirius.”

He blushes. He actually blushes. You grab for his wrist and push his sleeve up to peer at his watch. 

“I’ll see you around, okay?”

For the first time in a long time, Sirius Black hasn’t got shit to say. No one ever makes him blush. 

————

“I don’t come to class one day, and you’ve made a new friend? Why couldn’t you have made a new one any other day? I think I need some time off. Maybe even early retirement.” 

Sirius smacks Remus on the shoulder where the latter lays stretched out in bed. The curtains are drawn one one side so that the only person they’re visible to is James, who is half asleep in the neighboring bed, glasses askew and tie on the brink of choking him. 

“It’s rude to abuse the wounded.” 

“You’re off your rocker, Lupin.”

Remus rubs his face, though he winces, his arms much too sore for any sort of activity. “Tell me about it.” 

“Feeling any better today?” 

“Yes, Sirius. I’m feeling fucking wonderful.”

“He’s being sarcastic.” James’ voice is muffled by the pillow he’s collapsed into. 

Sirius turns to look at his friend. “Yeah, no shit, Prongs. Thank you so much for enlightening me.”

James raises a weak arm, flipping him off. “Eat me.”

“You say that as if I won’t do it.”

James sits up, but only enough so that he may rearrange himself into a poorly structured child’s pose. “Stop being such fucking tease and do it then, babe.”

Remus rubs his eyes aggressively, like it might somehow rid him of his ever permanent longing for sleep. “Shove it, you two.” He peeks out from between his fingers at Sirius. “I thought you were saying how you’ve made someone else miserable with the joys of your friendship.” 

“Fuck you,” Sirius says.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I did make a new friend. In herbology, since you decided to have a go with the moon and left me to perish.” Remus rolls his eyes. “They’re very kind, if you must know. We are co-parenting a Mandrake.”

James snorts into the mattress. 

“Is it really co-parenting if you’ll make them do all of the work?” Remus asks. 

James snorts again and Sirius leans over to smack him against the back. He lets out a pathetic cry that both of the other boys ignore. 

“I’m helping, asshole,” Sirius begins. “I’m supposed to go water the fucking thing in a bit if either of you need proof of life.” 

“Of your friend or of your child?” Remus reaches his arm out to grab hold of one of the bedposts and heave himself up. 

“Both.”

James slides off of his bed and starts to stretch, and a cacophony of cracking sounds follows, which is slightly concerning considering his age. “Sorry. I’m supposed to go and see Lils. But I expect a full report back, Moons.” He strips off his tie and pulls on a coat. The other two boys watch him bound across the room like they’re at a tennis match.  

James is gone so quickly you’d be amazed that he was half-asleep minutes before. 

“What a prick,” Sirius says from where he sits at the foot of Remus’ bed. He looks away from the door and at his friend. 

Sirius sets his hand on Remus’ knee. “You get any sleep this morning?” 

“Some. Not enough. Though it’s never enough, or whatever.” Sirius gets a pang in his chest. He wishes he could make it all better. 

“You want to get some fresh air? You can come with me to the greenhouses if you want, but you can stay here too. I’ll sneak down to the kitchens and get you something.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll go with you. Sun’s not out, is it? It’ll kill my head.”

Sirius stands and peers beneath the drawn curtains. It’s cloudy, like it might storm, a thick layer of cloud lying over the grounds. “Nope. She’s hiding from you today.”

Remus nods and his friend walks back over to his bedside. “Come on, Rem.” 

He removes the blankets from over his lap and scoots to the edge of his mattress. Sirius holds out his hands for Remus to take. Sometimes he gets really woozy when he has to stand after nights like the last. His knees shake, but he’s steady once he’s up. Sirius keeps an arm around his back when there isn’t anyone in the halls to question Remus’ condition, but has to settle for watching his friends footing otherwise. 

Sirius gets Remus on a bench and makes a stop by Madam Pomphrey on the way, feigning a headache. She gives him a little bottle of these chewable tablets with instructions on how often to take them and tells him to come back if the ache persists. 

He hands the bottle to Remus when he’s finished, and the boy’s had the medicine for an entire four seconds before he’s chewing. It’s one of those headaches that stays dull, but any sudden movement and your entire skull is throbbing and he thinks he might just die. Remus thinks this every full moon. He is not dead. 

The trip to the greenhouse takes longer than usual, mainly because of Sirius’ tendency to baby Remus during his moon hangovers. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want a death on his hands, something about living up to the Black name, but Remus knows it’s really because Sirius is much more caring than he’d ever admit. 

“See? Look at this fucker. My child.” Sirius gestures dramatically at the potted plant. Remus leans up against one of the tables, only slightly amused, much more out of breath. 

He’s only just gone digging for a watering can when he hears the door open and glances up, assuming it’s another student having to monitor their own dirt ball. 

But it’s you. 

“What’s up, love?”

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t realized when Sirius said he made a friend he actually meant friend. He’s never really seen Sirius look at someone that way. 

You stand by the doors, kicking the one you came through shut behind you. Sirius pretends like he’s not attracted to the movement. 

“Hi,” you say. You step a little further into the room. “I know it’s not my day to water, but frankly I was kind of worried you’d forget to do it.”

Remus turns to face you and laughs, full on. You grin at him. He’s never really looked at you before, but there’s no denying how sweet you look. He bets you could kick Sirius’ ass if you wanted. He also thinks Sirius might let you do it. 

Sirius straightens and flips his hair back as he does so. “You wound me.”

You shrug. “I was also slightly panicked you’d drown the thing, so there’s that.” 

Sirius walks over to the sinks, filling up his watering can, though you both know he could easily use a spell to do it instead. “So you came to supervise?”

“‘Fraid so.” You chew on the inside of your lip. 

“I don’t blame you,” Remus says. “He’s kind of a flake.”

“Fuck you, Rem.”

“Yeah, sure.” Remus pushes off of the table, moving in the direction of you and the doors. His head is starting to feel better. He leans in next to you, though his voice is anything but a whisper. “I don’t know why you’re putting up with him. Would’ve asked for a different partner myself.”

“She picked me!” You laugh, seeing Sirius put his hands on his hips out of the corner of your eye. 

Remus raises a brow at you. “Oh yeah?” He smiles at you. It’s a knowing expression, an understanding one. He keeps his eyes on you, but speaks to Sirius. “I’m gonna go for a walk, Pads. Come and retrieve me when you’re finished.” 

The squeeze Remus gives to your shoulder is kind. It tells you you’re safe with Sirius. With him. That you’re welcome. The glass door rattles as it shuts. 

“You really have no faith in me?” Sirius asks, spritzing the Mandrakes leaves. You peer into the pot, noticing he’s watered it just right. It’s not going to drown after all. 

“No, I’ve got plenty. Maybe I just wanted to see you again.” 

Sirius sets the bottle he’s holding down. “No shit.”

“Well you see, last time you asked me a question, and I didn’t get to ask you one of my own, and I figured I’d better do that if I want to keep the friendship alive, you know?”

Sirius is smiling at you. He can’t believe this–your teasing. 

He runs the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone. “So what’s the question?”

“Do you like pie?” you question.

“I do.”

“That’s good. Because I feel the same way, and rumor has it you can get into the kitchens, so I thought we could work together on this...and get pie. It’s like a reward. I put up with you and you put up with me kind of thing, so we get something to eat.”

Sirius tosses his head back, letting out a bark of a laugh. Your eyes linger on his neck for a second longer than they should. 

“Well the rumors are indeed true,” he says. “Guess we’ll have to ditch Remus, then. Make it a proper date and whatnot.”

“That seems unkind,” you chuckle.

“He’ll live.”

————

“What’s happening here?” Sirius throws himself into one of the chairs on the other side of the table where you and Remus sit. 

“We’re reading,” Remus tells him. “Go away.”

Remus had shown you to this table. Said it was his favorite. There are a small group of them in the very back of the library, behind one of the last rows of shelves. You wouldn’t know they were there unless you went looking. 

He said it’s where he goes to hide when James and Sirius won’t shut up and let him work, which is more often than not. 

“You whined about me making new friends,” Sirius says, “so that I’d leave you alone, and now you’ve taken it upon yourself to steal said friend from me?” 

You cover your face with your book, sliding deeper into your chair and trying your very best to fight off a giggle. 

Sirius reaches across the table and snatches the book from your hands. He wants to see the shit-eating grin you’re hiding. He stands and moves in front of you just when you bury your face in your sleeve. 

He tugs on the fabric of your shirt. “Traded me out then, have you?”

You snort into your sweater, and Sirius watched the way your shoulders shake. Remus eyes his friend’s hand, trying to make sure he didn’t lose your page with his frenzied antics. He didn’t though, pale thumb tucked into the paper.

Remus sets his own book down, stretching over the back of the chair. He’s thinking about going to bed. 

Instead of looking at Sirius like you know he wants, you turn to Remus.

“Leavin’ me, Rem?”

Sirius scoffs. Rem his ass. 

Remus lowers his head so that it’s level with yours. “Sleepy,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. You look at the scar that runs through his brow and across his eyelid. There’s another by his ear. You wonder if he’ll tell you about them someday. 

He bumps his forehead—the gentlest of taps—with yours, and then he’s standing. Sometimes you forget how lanky he is when he’s always so hunched over. 

“Goodnight, Lupin,” you say. 

“Goodnight, you two. Don’t get too wild. This is still a library.”

Sirius takes the chair Remus had been occupying. You look at him, and reach for his hand. He wouldn’t even think about denying you taking it, even if he is being a grump. 

“I have not traded you out, Sirius.” He glares at you, though his eyes are still much too soft for it to be anything malicious. He’s not sure he could ever look at you in a hateful way. 

“You could’ve read with me,” he argues, tickling your palm. You try and wriggle your hand away, but he only presses his fingers firmly into your skin, keeping you there. 

“Come on.”

“No, you could have,” he continues. “I can be very well behaved, if need be.”

“Oh yeah?” You’re the one smirking now. Sirius is afraid he might never get this image of you out of his head. 

“Yeah.” He leans in, nuzzling his nose against your temple. When he pulls away, you realize he has a smattering of freckles under one eye. You have the urge to touch them, and so you do. 

He relaxes against your hand. “You’re very pretty, Sirius.”

“Thank you.” He kisses your knuckle. “You’re very pretty, too, sweets.”

“Thank you.”

In the weeks since your Mandrake project has finished—and the plant did indeed survive—Sirius has grown increasingly attached to you. Frankly he finds himself shocked that you’re willing to deal with him at all, let alone that his friends like you so much. He wasn’t even a little upset that you’re spending time with Remus. You have a lot in common, actually. 

He just likes to tease you. And he’s very good at it. 

“So you come looking for me because you need something? Or are you perhaps attention starved?” You question, taking your hand away from his face, though your other is still within his grasp. 

“Most definitely the latter.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

He speaks close to your ear as if he’s about to spill the world’s most confidential information. “Is this a safe space?”

“Absolutely,” you assure him. 

“I want you to play with my hair,” Sirius says. 

You gasp, clutching at your nonexistent pearls. 

Your moment's pause makes him a little nervous. “Well let’s get on with it then,” you tell him.

You take Sirius up to your common room, it being much too late for anyone to be up. You slip your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp until he’s falling asleep and you’ve made promises of braiding it sooner or later. Eventually, you have to wake him, send him off to bed.

And he pouts. God, does he pout. But it’s okay. He’ll get you to do it again tomorrow.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

10 BL Boys That I Want "Carnally"

aka The Horny List

I was tagged by @my-rose-tinted-glasses @twig-tea @rocketturtle4 and @nieves-de-sugui 🤍 Thank you so much! And sorry I am late to the game! I am lying down with a cold right now... what means I had a little time to think about this list and to respect my own weak heart for bad boys and puppy guys... The heart wants what the heart wants...

Starting the list with one of the softest and warmest bad boys out there right now:

Mhok from Last Twilight

He stole my heart from the beginning and never gave it back. I guess he will keep it for eternity. And that is totally fine! He has the biggest heart and is the biggest green flag disguised as a red flag that is walking the bl-world right now. I love how he looks at Day, how he takes care for him and how he slowly fell for him.

I guess the second one doesn't come as a surprise when you look at my profle pic:

Boeing from Only Friends

He is just sex on a stick and I am still mad that he got introduced so late into the show. He would have been so much fun to watch destroying the whole "friend group" piece by piece. I would have watched such a show. Well I guess I would watch a show in which he just leans out of the pool like that for 40 minutes straight and I wouldn't be mad...

On third we have our first couple, because one doesn't work without the other:

DongWook and DoHyun from A Breeze Of Love

I was so freaking happy seeing those two wanting each other. Those two were in love with each other, not just on an emotional level but on a physical level attracted to each other and the series didn't hide it! It is my favorite bl of this year and the mutual attraction played into it. And those two are just two lost puppies who wants to love and be loved and urgh! I love them!

Going on to an old crush of mine:

Forth from 2 Moons 2

Yes, it is mostly Pavel, but I really liked this soft bad boy with this rascal hair cut and the tattoos. I loved his whole character and yes in the end I am just a weak girl, because look at him!

One character I wish I could drag out of the screen and keep as my own little prince of his stupid white horse:

Yai from I Feel You Linger In The Air

He is one of the prettiest men I ever saw and his puppy eyes with which he is looking at Jom and the soft voice whenever he says his name were making me weak in the knees. He is a total romantic and just wants to love and be loved in return. He is the perfect gentleman and loyal till the end. He needs a strong partner at his side to be the best version of himself and when he dances, the whole world stops for a moment.

Coming to a very much new pic for me and it is a pairing again:

Naoki and Yamashiro from Kiss x Kiss x Kiss: Love ii Shower

I mean Naoki looked like a greek god and Yamashiro was just so sensual in this short episode. I have to confess, I couldn't find a version with subtitles, so I don't know exactly what they were talking about, but in the end, did I really care that much, especially when they started using a language I could understand very good? No, not really. Sometimes I just like looking at beautiful people kissing each other.

One of my long-lasting loves:

Mark from Love Mechanics

I adore War. I love him so much and I am going feral when Jack & Joker really comes real next year. He has one of the best faces out there. He looks good crying and being evil and of course laughing. And Mark was such a lost puppy prick and Vee treated him really shitty for most of the times, but because I love Vee too, I can't be too hard on him. But Mark, I want to give him a hug... everytime all the time!

And on we go with another recent catch for my eyes:

Phaya from The Sign

He is such a flirt and he makes it very clear that he likes Tharn and I love that for us. He is one of the people I want to be hold in their arms just like Tharn here. I can't wait for those two to finally give in to their feelings! And for the mystical plot to unfold itself more, because I really want to know what is going on! And I want those two to save each other.

The next one is called Papi Chulo on TikTok and I can see why:

Sailom from Wedding Plan

The series might not be the best one out there and Papi Chulo might be frustrating for some people, but I loved them both! Lom is such a treat and for most of the times I understand why he acted like he did. And after he came clean with Namnuea he was the best boyfriend/fiancé. And he has one of the best smiles out there and such a cute mole!

Closing this list with the one character I am going feral at the moment whenever he is on screen:

Prom from Playboyy

He has this pure lust in his eyes whenever he looks at Nont and I love it. I don't know if I would trust Prom, but be sure if this man wants to put on a mask and punish me in his basement I would let him... He is one of my guilty pleasures right now and I would watch the series just for him and his fucked up relationship with Nont.

This was fun! I am so late to the game, I am not tagging anyone, because I know many have done it already and I don't want to double tag :) But if you see this and want to do it yourself, feel free to make your own list and tag me, so I can have a look at your picks 😊

[rahuratna]

Hi! I have a one am musing 🥹

I was rewatching jjk season one (I still haven’t finished season two but I need to cope LOL) and now I’m able to pick up all the little details we talked about before. *heart melts*

It’s so crazy to me how in the very beginning Nanami didn’t acknowledge Yuji as a sorcerer, and by the end, he told Yuji to be the one to take over from here. It’s so bittersweet…

Tbh, the very first time I watched that episode, I was super shocked and thought Nanami was patronizing Yuji. And then I learned that wasn’t the case. He was being very matter-of-fact about it and knows Yuji has a lot of room to grow 🥹💕💕

Yuji was super eager to prove himself to Nanami, and then Nanami was like “frankly I don’t give a shit.” But in reality, he really does as he gets to learn more about Yuji, and so while I was terribly upset with s2 ep 18, his last words were the perfect conclusion.

(This is just a side note but I like it more when writers show off Nanami’s practical-minded nature more. How it may seem cold and standoffish at first but it wasn’t intended that way. I wish I got to see more of Nanami being blunt with criticism since different people could react differently to it and it’s who he is!)

———-

I also realized that Gojo got new glasses LMAO. Didn’t see it before, but his high school ones were circular and his newer ones are more oval. I kinda glossed over it when he shops for new glasses in the “Lost in Paradise” ending. I personally like his high school sunglasses better. What about you?

Hi! And thanks for these lovely 1 am musings. It always makes my day to see one waiting for me 🤭 I also needed to take a moment to cope before moving on with season 2 (didn't help much, but necessary).

Nanami initially struck me as very contradictory, because there he was, taking a jab at the system (in his capacity as both a salaryman and as a sorcerer), saying that "work is shit", but also bowing formally to a teenager when he introduced himself and wearing a full business suit to kill curses!

I saw his lack of acknowledgement of Yuuji as another "fuck you" to the system. Here was Yuuji, a vessel to one of the most powerful curse users to ever exist, and he was essentially treating him as just another kid. I didn't necessarily see it in a good or bad light, it just struck me as a very deliberate choice on Nanami's part.

Of course, his later actions and his background showcased these things in a completely new way. Like you said, he cares a great deal for Yuuji and the younger generation of sorcerers. The fact that his last words to Yuuji were "you take it from here" is such a fitting culmination to his character arc.

He saw his duty as a guardian and protector of the young and the weak finally coming to an end, because they were now able to protect themselves better than he could. He saw Yuuji as completely fitting of carrying his legacy forward, and so let him know that he could now pass in peace.

I, also, wish we could have seen more of Nanami's interactions with others. The way Ijichi is actually more terrified of Nanami scolding him than anything else, describing him as the 'ultimate adult' or something along those lines, will never not be funny to me. Especially since Nanami is the type of man to never raise his voice in a professional setting. His pragmatic nature would probably have given us many more moments of misunderstandings, sweetness and humour, should it have been explored in greater detail.

------------

As to Gojo's sunglasses, I do like the older style better! They reflected a lot of his irreverent, cheeky and offbeat personality. I suppose the oval shape is a style choice that changed as he grew older and matured, but yeah, I definitely preferred round lenses better!

[iphigeniainaulis]

Take the bitter with the sweet

Writing this was hard but it helped me realize that I can still call myself a writer even though I don’t post as much as I want to. I do hope that you liked it, @cottonfluffballofdoom, and let’s create even more beautiful works together during future @flash-exchange. Thank you so much for having me here. Without you all I can't call this place home 💛 

Character: Hideyoshi

Promt: Something sweet, something bitter

“...and if one day faith brings us a new challenge, I want to meet it by your side. For as you see, we are the warriors, my dear, and at war as at war. We may be losing our battles here, but we will never be defeated for being loved. 

Find me. Quick, I’ll wait.”

Autumn has finally blossomed, turning the city’s gardens into one rustling sea of scarlet poppies, amber gold and ochreous ground. Maple leaves are everywhere. 

You enter the cool emptiness of a local gallery hall. A maple leaf is gracefully falling at your feet. Nothing is going to be the same, but maybe tomorrow a tiny bud will appear where now emptiness is present. 

Memories of the past still hurt like a scar that has barely healed. It is painful. Not because you have it, but because it will never disappear. A year has passed since your life was divided into before and after. A year since the man who promised to live for the sake of your breath on his lips pushed you into the black hole of despair, separating himself from the course of your life. 

____________

“Everything is fine,” the trembling sound of your voice was a strange contrast to a bright smile on your face, “we’re gonna make it together. It is so much easier with you by my side.”

That was not true, and you both knew that. The following silence condemned your lies, as does the quiet crowd when a singer hits the wrong note.  

“This can’t continue. You are struggling because of me.” Through a transparent surface of a folding screen you could see his mourning profile with shoulders painfully stretched. Wheaten hair was for the first time touched with silver. 

“I need to do the right thing. This is my duty to protect you, after all.”

____________

Yes, it was right. Your body and mind were becoming weaker with each day, and so his grip of your hand was getting tighter. Your lover’s embrace sank like ink into your essence, forever changing its structure, so when you returned to “the present” it was hard to find your own reflection in the mirror. For how can one see the whole when a half is missing?

Yet, life still goes on. The leaves are falling to give new buds a chance to bloom and blossom into something beautiful. You too have to keep going. Even if it means stepping on the broken glass.

The gallery hall is all but dark shadows coming when the icy sunlight is no longer falling from the roof, hidden with November clouds. Myriads of scroll paintings on the walls are telling you about distant times when one country was divided into many. People were suffering, and whispers of poets, mourning for their motherland, were mixing with cries of mothers who’d lost their children. Still, even in the times of darkness there was a place for light. 

One handscroll is dedicated to a story of a man who sought happiness in death until he found a woman who made him fall in love with life. 

You look at another painting with little monkeys reaching for the reflection of the moon instead of searching for it in the sky. 

“Silly monkey,” a sudden rush of air gives you goosebumps, “always being so stubborn, never listening to others. I’ll never forgive you.” 

“Then don’t. Let the monkey learn its lesson.”

Somebody drops a silk coat on your shoulder, and it smells like almond, tea and parchment. Or maybe you just imagine everything. The scent of home, Azuchi, where you used to sew another kimono for your lover on engawa under the night stars. Dim candles left the aroma of incense on your fingers, and you asked the moon to give you some more light.

Almond, tea and parchment. That’s how your pillows smelt after a night of passion. Sometimes you could feel a light touch of his fingers caressing your hair, warm breath on collarbones. 

“Let's work hard today. Don’t forget to eat your breakfast. It’s on the table.”

Almond, tea and parchment. So sweet that it was almost bitter. That’s how your last goodbye felt. Stars dropping from the sky.

“Find me. Quick, I’ll wait.”

You turn around.

(a letter found in your clothes after returning to modern Japan)

Tonight you coughed. Again. I held you in my arms till the first rays of sun appeared on the horizon, but it could barely help you, my dear wife. You fell asleep when I left the room only to lean against the wall and listen to the quiet sound of your breath. 

Every single day you fight with darkness that is way stronger than you, yet your smile keeps getting wider after each battle, and my love for you is growing stronger. 

Sasuke thinks that your condition may become worse as the wormhole is getting closer. That your body and mind may leave me forever. And so I recall.

I recall the memories of your funny face when the morning sun plays with your hair. I think of our conversations, when nature is quiet in the evening and the wind is full of scents. You tell me about Mitsunari’s cat, about your daily tasks and bickering with Mitsuhide. You look so peaceful that it feels surreal. I want to hug you tight and become something bigger than I am now. To protect, to love, to honor your brave yet tender soul.

You are the force of nature. A sun-dazzling creature, you came into my life to create havoc, and now you may disappear, my beautiful thunder.

We argue. Again. You say I’m too stubborn. You blame me for not allowing you to decide for yourself. You think you can handle it. A silly liar. 

But listen..

I know how it feels to be alone. I thought I found the meaning in serving lord Nobunaga. And I still do think so. But now I can't say I don’t have anything to lose. I have. And it's you.

I want to fight for your future, I want you to see the life you've taught me to love. And so I want you to leave.

To become the person you want to be. To share your strength with others. To be full. Don’t forget to eat. Don’t exhaust yourself. And try to find me. I promise to do the same.

I know you’ll probably hate me for what I’m going to do. For forcing you to go back to your time. But I would rather have you alive but distant than ill by my side. 

If one day faith brings us a new challenge, I want to meet it by your side. For as you see, we are the warriors, my dear, and at war as at war. We may be losing our battles here, but we will never be defeated for being loved. 

Forever yours,

Hideyoshi

[georgi-girl]

UglyDolls Movie Analysis.

Edit: added more content.

So, I wasn’t interested in UglyDolls when it first came out. I’d never heard of the toy line it’s based on and it looked like just another “beauty is on the inside” message cranked out by hypocritical Hollywood. But recently, I’ve finally got around to watching it and it’s not just about looks.

It’s about disability.

The movie takes place in an automated, possibly magical toy factory where different types of dolls are put together; pink rag dolls, grey teddy bears, red birds, and featureless humanoid fashion dolls known as “pretties”. Every toy is scanned and any one that has imperfections gets tossed down a shoot and sent to “Uglyville”. This is just like how disabled children are abandoned or killed by their parents when they’re born.

Uglyville is essentially a paradise with endless celebrations and all the junk food you can eat. The leader Ox (voice by Blake Shelton) tells everyone that the “Big World” of humans isn’t real, and everyone has pretty much lost interest in leaving. All except Moxie (voiced by Kelly Clarkson) a short and stumpy ragdoll who wants a human so badly, she runs away through the shoot, with her friends tagging along. Her friends include a grey blobby guy and a red bat. They end up with the pretties in the Institute of Perfection where the dolls are trained in surviving the Big World before going through a portal that sends them to their ideal child. This place is run by exposition bots and a scanner gate that assigns the dolls their appearance, name, and even careers. (Everyone is something slash model).

There, the Uglies meet Lou, (voiced by Nick Jonas) the most perfect doll and leader of the institute who tells everyone, through song, that being ugly is bad and that kids don’t want ugly toys. (Shows what he knows) They also meet Mandy, (voiced by Janelle Monae) the one doll who's nice to them and who hides the fact that she needs glasses. Tangent: I don’t know if it’s my place to say this since I’m white. It is so nice to see a black woman get portrayed as feminine and friendly and have her own character arc outside of helping the main character.

Anyway, Moxie and her friends stay, and Lou allows it, just to make himself look more benevolent. The dolls are trained to avoid getting messy or damaged (reasonable hazards for toys) and prepare for a real-world simulation called The Gauntlet. As hard as the Ugly dolls work, Lou keeps sabotaging them. He also sends a trio of girls to spy on Uglyville and kidnap Ox.

It turns out, Ox used to live in Perfection after landing there by accident. But he failed the program, learned that toys like them, rejects, are originally meant to end up in the recycling bin where they’re burned in the incinerator. Ox kept the ugly dolls sheltered in a place they’d never want to leave because he was afraid of them facing rejection. Thats also something lots of parents of disabled kids do. This news floors Moxie. She and the others never knew there was anything wrong with them. Not until it’s cruelty pointed out. As Lou tells her, “they were never meant to exist”. Eugenics much?

The uglies return to their home and break the news to the others. Everyone falls into despair; it’s one thing to never find your soulmate, it’s another to be told that nobody wants you. But then Mandy arrives, telling Moxie that she should run the gauntlet anyway because thanks to Moxie’s sweet affirmation, she feels encouraged to wear her glasses with pride. And they share a beautiful duet about how there will always be people who give who flack for being yourself, but you should be yourself anyway. There’s only so much you can do with the body you’re born with. And I love the trend of animated films saying that perfection is overrated. Encanto, Turning Red, the latest Trolls movie all have this message. And it’s good. Progress and self-betterment are great, but not when they come at a personal cost of conforming to someone else’s unreasonable standards. Moxies’ hope is restored. Just in time for Lou to have them both kidnapped and thrown in the incinerator. The other uglies save them, and they enter the gauntlet. Lou enters as well just to make sure they lose.

They have to go through life-size human house and dodge obstacles. At this point, I’m wondering who exactly is in charge of this toy factory and how they can afford all this crazy machinery.

While the pretty dolls focus on staying clean and looking out for themselves, the Uglies focus on having fun and being loving. They go back and help those who’ve fallen behind, they befriend the mechanical dog and mechanical baby they encounter. They choose to lose together rather than win alone. This ends up helping them pass in while Lou, who actually made it through the house, ends up failing.

While the audience isn't surprised by this, everyone else is. Perfect Lou failed at something. This triggers a breakdown in which Lou reveals that he isn't a real doll, he's a prototype. He can't leave the factory or be purchased by a child. Big kudus to whomever came up with this plot twist because this explains so much about Lous' character. Of course he's insensitive towards others. Of course he can't handle being played with. Whatever love-and-be-loved instinct the other dolls got, he didn't get it. But he still wants to go to the Big World. And that led him to resent the others, especially the Uglies, who can go through the portal despite their imperfections. In a way, Lou himself is disabled. But he could never admit it. And that's what leads to his downfall. He destroys the portal to the Big World and gets thrown in the very washer that he kept sending the Ugly Dolls to. A lot of fans are disappointed that he doesn't get redeemed in the end, I totally get that. But to be redeemed, you have to want to be redeemed. Lou just wanted everyone to forgive him immediately. Plus, he's still alive in the end, so his arc has an open ending.

The dolls work together to repair the portal, and set up a new system in which their communities live together and go back and forth through the portal so they can hang out whenever their humans are asleep.

And at the very last scene, Moxie meets her kid, a little girl with bad teeth like hers. Believe it or not, kids want disabled toys. There are Barbies with blindness and albinism, there are baby dolls with Downs Syndrome, there's and old man who crochets dolls with vitiligo patches. A girl in an online video painted a facial birthmark on her doll to match her moms' facial birthmark. I myself keep toys with missing limbs and chewed-up faces. Representation matters. And it's good that companies are finally acknowledging that. Even when they sometimes do a bad job at it.

It should also be noted that while the Pretties supposedly have it better, the Uglies live better, with a community that values joy and friendship and individuality. That really drives home the message that differences should be accepted and celebrated, not ignored of erased. (Just like that other animated musical starring Kelly Clarkson…)

One last thing, while the movie is officially the property of Universal, it was financed and worked on by two Chinese company. A movie about dolls, made in China. Brilliant.

[moongirlcleo]

Jellal x Fem!Reader

summary: imagine needing a source of info on Jellal so ft member! Female reader manages to find him while on a job, of course this info costs a fee, and with no money there must be other ways to compensate that would leave the reader twitching and with the information she needs, ya know👀 CW: character is slightly OOC in this to fit the request, but who cares. Smut, a good time, alcohol consumption, slight dubcon thanks to booze. A/N: i wont even lie, this got lost because I lost the original ask due to trying to figure out who this request was about, but thank you for reminding me.

There weren't many things that surprised you in life anymore. Today was one of those few times. You were fairly sure that what you were about to do would go down as either the most disturbing moment of your life, or the most... satisfying. Especially because it wasn't something that happened to you, being caught without money and trying to glean information about someone.

Instead, you found yourself at Jellal's mercy. Well, perhaps not exactly. You still had some of your pride. And any woman who thinks she's got anything left has never met Jellal. Your only option for now, then, was to agree to his demands or pay up accordingly. After all, you already let it slip you were there for information about him. Erza had sent you on this mission, and you weren't expecting your target to be so... sexy. Or available. It could be a fun night.

"You want some wine?" He asked, before going over to pour himself a glass. The table was cluttered with various types, from sweet whites to more bold reds, sparkling ones and others. "It'll help calm you down."

That sounded like the perfect idea to you right now. Even though your situation wasn't ideal by any means, you needed some liquid courage. You always did when dealing with strange men, and he certainly qualified as that. You didn't know much about him, but he seemed a little out of place here in this deserted town. Did he own this bar? How much was he worth? What kind of stuff did he like to do? Those were questions that would probably have to wait until tomorrow.

For tonight, you just wanted to drink and get on with the interrogation. "Yes, please."

As he poured your glass, you sat down across from him, eyes fixed on his hands. You'd spent quite a bit of time practicing self-defense with different types of knives and swords, but none of them were able to pierce human skin. With your focus elsewhere, however, you barely felt him sit next to you. But when he finally reached over and offered you the glass, you soon found yourself in his lap.

Jellal's hands slid around your waist and onto your hips.

His fingers pressed against your sides and you could feel the tips run along your backside, causing your body to shiver. His smirk radiated across his face, hiding whatever secrets you came to extract from him.

"So you came to get information on me, yeah?" He purred into your ear. "And how much are you willing to pay me for it?"

In one swift motion, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, straddling you. A small part of you hoped you might be able to fight him off and escape, but the alcohol in your system had already done its work.

"I--" You tried to respond, but the blush along your cheeks gave you away. Jellal laughed.

"Alright, pretty bird, I'll give you what you want to know. For a fee, of course."

Jellal smirked again, letting his hand slide around your throat. You flinched, surprised at the roughness of his touch. Maybe it was the alcohol making you weak, but you felt your knees tremble as he whispered directly into your ear, using his free hand to unbutton your blouse.

When he pulled back, he pushed the straps of your bra aside and exposed your breasts. "Let's see how badly you want this info. Make me want to give it to you."

He tugged your shirt back down, giving him access to your skin. His finger traced circles around your breasts, and you arched your back, thrusting them closer towards him. As you lost control, you began to giggle and press against his body. Your mind couldn't grasp what was happening, but all you knew was that your brain seemed to shut down, leaving you helplessly turned on.

When Jellal lifted his finger away, you looked at him through hooded eyes. "What's the price?"

Jellal smirked. "Good girl. Not very difficult to convince. One kiss, and you're already at my mercy. Make me cum, and I'll give you the info."

His words ignited an even stronger desire within you. It was hard enough being able to look into his lustful gaze, but now he was practically commanding you to pleasure him. You whimpered softly and stood up, climbing back onto his lap. With a breath, you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him roughly. His lips parted slightly and you slipped your tongue inside, slowly gliding over his teeth. This time, he let out a low groan and returned the favor, running his hands down your backside and into your underwear. Your stomach clenched.

There was nothing else you could think about but how good it felt to be with him. He picked you up easily, and carried you over to a large couch. You kicked your legs around as he set you down, almost crushing your breasts in the process. When you felt his hardness press against your thigh, you moaned loudly.

You smiled shyly, licking your lips. Before you knew it, you found yourself underneath him. You wiggled under his weight, eager to feel him deep inside of you. His pants remained unzipped, and you moved closer to push them down, but Jellal shook his head.

"Wait." He said, grabbing a nearby chair and setting it upright. "Sit."

Once seated, he reached out his hand and ran it up your inner thigh. Slowly, he slid a finger under your panties and pressed forward. As his other hand made its way to the top of your breast, he slid two fingers into your wet slit. You squirmed beneath him, moaning loudly as he stroked you.

Your thighs clamped together involuntarily, but he gripped them tightly, forcing them open. With his free hand, he began to massage your bundle of nerves. With each brush of his thumb, you cried out. Finally, he leaned forward, burying his face between your legs. His warm breath sent chills throughout your body. His hot mouth surrounded your clit, sucking it gently. You wrapped your arms around his head, grabbing handfuls of hair.

With each stroke, you couldn't hold back your cries. Jellal licked his lips, then pressed his tongue harder against you. You cried out again, unable to control your pleasure.

Your head fell back, your hands gripping his head as you rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Every thrust pushed you further into climax, making you grab his shoulder tighter. As your breathing slowed, you glanced down to find his cock sticking straight out. Still erect, it pointed right at your face. With a sly grin, he grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his gaze.

You started to lean forward, intent on taking him in your mouth, but his lips stopped you.

The smile returned to his face. "Oh no, I'm fucking you right here." Hearing those words had your pussy clenching even harder than before.

"Come on," he murmured, running his fingers up and down your torso. "Back to the couch."

By the time you were seated once again, you couldn't contain yourself any longer. Panting heavily, he lowered his hips and let his thick member slide into your body. He sank slowly, grinding his hips against yours, and you took a sharp intake of breath. He leaned forward, kissing you deeply as he fucked you mercilessly.

Each thrust sent shockwaves throughout your body, making your clit throb. Sweat dripped from Jellal's brow as he stared down at you. Without warning, he suddenly increased the pace, pressing his hips down hard against yours. Every thrust sent a new wave of pleasure surging through your body, making you whimper uncontrollably. Suddenly, Jellal pulled out and slammed into you once more. Then again, and again.

All too quickly, you were nearing another climax. As you looked up at him, you saw his face contorted in pleasure. His eyes glazed over as his dick pulsated, sending thick white ropes of seed shooting into you. With every pulse, you came as well, your orgasm spilling over you in sheets. You fell limp on the couch, breathing heavily. Jellal collapsed beside you, panting.

After several minutes, he finally regained his senses. Gently, he pulled his softening member out of you. You lay there in blissful exhaustion, exhausted by both the passion and the physical exertion. The room was filled with the faint smell of sex, and it took a while for your body to return to normal.

Jellal leaned over and kissed you on the forehead. "You can ask me anything now, if you like."

At first, you thought he was kidding. The whole thing was such a blur, and you'd almost forgotten why you were there in the first place. It took everything in you to recall what you needed from him, and he patiently waited for you to ask him all you needed.

It wasn't until the following day did the whole thing hit you. Maybe you'd take missions like these more often.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facial; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Wing-Stroking; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

***********

Chapter Eighteen: Heated.

When the limo stops, it parks right outside a charming club venue where you can already hear the music thumping from outside the doors.

You stare at the building like it’s the gate to Hell. 

Though you pre-gamed in the limo ride with Rumi, Yu, and Nemuri, taking shots of champagne and singing along to the radio with them, you don’t feel the alcohol’s liquid confidence taking over yet.

All you feel is dread as you face the club venue, just a step away from Keigo’s face. Beside the glass doors to the venue is a red velvet rope holding dozens of guests and those who just want a piece of the celebrity life who will no doubt be thrown out by security. 

Nemuri and Yu walk up to the guard who checks for their names on an iPad. He then smiles and opens the door for them to which they walk, hand in hand. Meanwhile, you stand outside with Rumi, your feet frozen to the ground.

Rumi whistles at the music choices and the guests waiting patiently to be let in. “Damn, he really did it up this time,” she giggles. “Well, come on so I can see you two kiss.” She gives you a teasing smile as she walks towards the guard, but upon noticing that you’re not following her, she turns around. 

“Uh, in a minute,” you reply, giving her a reassuring smile. “Lemme just fix my makeup and I’ll be right in.”

It’s a bullshit lie, but it gets Rumi to leave you anyway. Other than spending the ride taking champagne shots to ease your nerves, you were busy primping yourself for Keigo, either putting on an extra slick of lipgloss or fishing a gummy piece of mascara from your lash line. You were also trying to come up with a good way to talk to him and get him alone: 

“Hey, Keigo, can we talk real quick? I know things are awkward between us and I don’t want them to be.” 

“Can we go somewhere more private? I just really need to talk to you. I’m sorry about earlier…” 

“Rei and I aren't together anymore. You were right about him and I’m sorry I didn’t listen.” 

“You’ve been a great friend to me, but I don’t want to be friends anymore. So, if you wanna get something eat sometime or go see a movie…” 

“Well, are you just gonna stand out here or go in and talk to him?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of a voice that isn’t your internal one at all. You were so lost in your thoughts and anxiety that you forgot you were standing outside in your Gala gown, looking crazy. The voice that interrupted you is deep, raspy, and undeniably familiar to you. It’s one you immediately put a face to. 

You turn around, finding your old friend leaning against a sleek, black car parked a little ways away from the prying eyes of the guests. His burned hand works to light himself a cigarette, his thumb flicking the lighter and causing a tiny spark of a flame to ignite. He puts it up to his mouth and burns the end of the cig until it turns a bright red like a firefly in the night. “Dabi?” you gasp.

His icy blue eyes stare into yours across the way, his clothes and leather jacket as black as night. “The only and only,” he chuckles. 

He turns fully toward you, opening his arms for you. “So you gonna give me a hug or what?” You stagger forward in your heels until you find the urge to run toward him. 

So you do. You run in your heels to your friend and nearly tackle him into the street. He chuckles at your reaction to his presence and wraps his arms around you. As soon as you feel his embrace and smell the cologne lingering on his clothes, you begin to softly cry into his chest.

It feels so good to see him, to feel him. It’s difficult to describe, but it's almost like an ache that only grows the longer you hold him because you know in time you’ll have to let go again. 

When you finally pull away, your eyes are wet and your mascara is suffering. Dab pulls a handkerchief out of his back pocket and hands it to you. “What’s poppin’?” he asks in his raspy voice, smirking down at you. 

You take the handkerchief from him and dab at your eyes. “You’re lucky I haven’t seen you in months or I’d smack you for saying that,” you sniffle, earning another throaty laugh from him. “What are you doing here? How are you here?” 

Dabi takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke away from you into the night air. “I’m guessing the bird man didn’t fill you in,” he says, raising an eyebrow. You blink at him, confused, and he sighs. “I figured not. The court found me not guilty of causing that prison riot, so I got my perks back. This is my outing for the month and I’m spendin’ it trying to get my two idiot friends to stop actin’ like they’re not crazy about each other.” 

He gives you an intense, knowing stare that has your stomach flipping with fear. You sigh, done drying your eyes. “So he told you?” you mutter.

Dabi snorts at your reaction though all you wish to do right now is die. “He tells me everything, doll,” he chuckles. “You know that. Do you really think he wouldn’t?” He takes another drag, instead blowing the smoke out of his nostrils. “So you weren't gonna tell me you guys fucked?” 

You shove at his chest hard, glaring at his brashness. “Don’t say it like that,” you hiss. “And I wasn’t gonna tell anyone. I was more than happy to take this to my grave and act like it never happened.” Dabi chortles at your reasoning, shaking his head. “Well, you can act like it all you want, but you know that your body remembers all too well.” 

And God, does it. Your shoulders slump defeatedly and you sigh. You were fooling yourself thinking you could hide this or that Keigo wouldn’t say anything to your friends. You can’t be mad at him for that. You turn to one of your very best friends now, wanting to shift the conversation. “So how have you been?” 

But Dabi isn’t having it. He takes a short drag of his cigarette before dropping it and crushing it beneath his sneakers. “I’m not interested in talkin’ about me right now, doll,” he sternly says, the smoke billowing from his mouth. “I’m way more interested in discussing you right now.”

He nods at the empty space beside you. “So where’s your man? He sped off and left you here?” 

You quietly whimper to yourself in defeat, knowing that he’s not going to let this go. “We’re done,” you confess. “I realized he wasn't the one for me.” Dabi quirks an eyebrow of interest at your confession. “And you think Keigo is?” he questions. 

His question renders you speechless. Your brain can’t seem to come up with a good answer. If you are to say yes, then he’d probably ask you why you think you’re so sure now. But if you say no, he’ll either call you on your bullshit or ask you why. You stare down at your heels, your heart pounding. “I-I don’t know,” you weakly admit. 

"So what are you doin’ here then?” he pushes. “It can’t be to just shoot the shit with a bunch of people you don’t know.” 

“Dabi, you know that’s BS,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Most of the people Hawks knows, I know. And what’s it to you why I’m here? A party is a party.” You can feel him staring at you regardless of whether you look at him or not.

You heavily sigh, throwing in the towel and looking up into his cool, blue eyes. “I’m just thinking, okay?” you huff. “It’s not that easy to talk to him about this. Things have been so complicated between us and tonight was pretty heated.” 

You cringe inwardly at the horrible things you said and how hurt Keigo looked. “You tell him to jump off a bridge or somethin’?” Dabi asks, squinting at you. “Is that why he looked like he just saw his entire life crumble before his eyes tonight?”

That makes you feel even worse. “I might as well have,” you sigh. “Just know it was bad.” Dabi tilts his head slightly to look at you from another angle, sizing you up. “Bad enough to not face him and tell him how you feel?” he questions. 

That’s when you break. The tears begin to fall, your makeup be damned, and all of your emotions fall flat out in front of your friend. “I just can’t, Dabi!” you sob. “There’s so much at stake here! Our friendship with each other, our friendship with you and Rumi, our careers, our–“ 

He stops you by placing a finger against your lips, his glare intense and intimidating.

“Shut up,” he demands. “You’re bein’ a fuckin’ idiot right now, and I can call you that ‘cause I’m your friend and I have a good reason to do so. You’re tellin’ me that you’re going to let your friend, someone who’s had your back for years and has held you down, go just because of one single night? You and I both know that’s the bullshit, Y/N.” 

His stare is hard and knowing as if he can see every single layer of you as you stand out on the street. You can't even speak, too floored by his words.

“If you don’t wanna acknowledge how you feel for him, fine, but what you’re not gonna do is walk away and act like he doesn't exist when the man has already been through enough shit in his life. You know we’re his everything, Y/N.”

In his eyes, you see nothing but a fierce love for Keigo and for you. A love that made him use his free day to come here and fix your relationship.

You look down at your feet, harshly biting your lip. “So what I’m gonna suggest to you is that you take a shot of the bottle Rumi gave you, go in there, put on your big girl panties, and tell Keigo just exactly what you need to before you lose him,” Dabi sternly continues. “‘Cause you will lose him, doll. Keigo loves you, but not enough to stick around.” 

“I know,” you sob, covering your face. “Dammit, I know!” You can’t stop the sobs that slip past your lips as all of your guilt and hurt overflows, covering you.

You then feel Dabi’s arms around you again, filling your nose with the scent of cologne and cigarette smoke. You press your face into his chest, fisting his shirt. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimper. “I’m such a fuck-up.” 

“We are all, doll,” he chuckles. “You ain’t special.” His large, burned hand begins to stroke the back of your head, calming you. “Plus, I need you to do this for me ‘cause I made a bet with Rumi on if you guys would get together or not.” 

You immediately stop crying and shove him away from you. “You what?!” you gasp, shocked and irked. 

Dabi shoves his hands in his pockets, not even looking the least bit guilty. “Well, first we made a bet on whether or not you two would fuck,” he explains. “She won. But now we’re betting on if you two will finally get together. She thinks no, I think yes. If I win, I got $50 on my commissary.” He shrugs, a lazy smirk on his face. 

You gape at him, almost not believing how horrible your friends can be. He’s really deadass right now. “Oh, my God,” you groan. “You guys are assholes.” 

“But you love us,” he replies, giving you a shit-eating grin. "So you gonna go in or what?” He nods at the club venue expectantly. You look too, picturing Keigo inside, being a good host, and dancing the night away. You want to join him. You want to be by his side. 

You turn back to Dabi, poking him in the chest. “You were never the best at giving good advice,” you sigh, “but you’ve somehow given me confidence. How do you do it, Dabi Todoroki?” The white-haired man shrugs his shoulders, a twinkle in his eye. “Guess that’s just my charm.” 

And so you take his advice and take a swig of the champagne bottle before handing it to him. “So where are you off to now?” you curiously ask.

He pauses to take a swig before licking the access liquid off of his upper lip. “‘Bout to go in here and watch this soap opera shit go down,” he says with a smirk. “I’ve got about twenty minutes left of freedom. Might as well enjoy it.” 

He then walks you back to the club where the guard checks for your names. He doesn’t look all that hype to let Dabi inside, but he does nonetheless. As soon as you hear the blast of the music and see the warm, red glow of the strobe lights above, you feel your stomach fall into your ass. Your anxiety has returned, leaving you heaving as you stand at the threshold of the door.

But Dabi’s hand, finding yours, gives you comfort. “Can’t back out now, doll,” he whispers to you. And so, you don’t. Swallowing hard, you walk into the club with Dabi trailing behind you, a picture of comfort and strength. 

The club is decorated with dozens of lounging areas, two bars, and a disco ball hanging from the ceiling that shines upon the guests down below. The music is bumping and the drinks are flowing as well as the weed smoke that wafts through the air. 

You spot Rumi chatting up a couple of heroes immediately, a drink in her hand and her ears twitching from the music. “There’s Rumi over there,” you tell Dabi, nodding at the bunny hero. But as soon as you see her, you also see Keigo. 

He appears from a throng of people that part way for him like clouds parting for a ray of sun. And a ray of sun he is––his eyes and smile radiate like the brightest stars in the sky in the dimly lit club, rendering you speechless. The entire room disappears when he enters, everyone else falling away into nothingness. You see no one but him. He is all that matters.

Dabi notices how you’ve frozen in place, already having taken a pre-rolled blunt out of his pocket and lighting it. “Need a drag to help you out?” he asks, offering you the blunt. 

Though you tremble and feel your heart shake, you decline the offer, especially after having already drunk. “No,” you exhale. “I’ve got this.” You pass the bottle you’re holding to Dabi and give him a reassuring smile to which he returns with an encouraging wink. Go get ‘em. 

And so you do. You walk over to Keigo who is still making his rounds, smiling and laughing with everyone, making them feel welcome. You feel as if you’re moving underwater, the tide rough and making you move slower than you realize.

But Keigo is like the warm sun rippling across the water, guiding you toward the light. Anyone he touches or talks to seems to react to his warm energy and beaming smile, laughing at his jokes or telling him about how amazing his party is. Your brain scrambles for something to say to him once you finally make it to him, your mouth dry and tongue heavy. 

“Hey, Hawks!” an unfamiliar, high-pitched voice suddenly giggles. You and Keigo both look to the far side where two unfamiliar women in mini-dresses sit, excitedly waving Keigo over. Keigo walks over, his friendly, Colgate smile still plastered on his face. You stop in your tracks, standing frozen as you watch him waltz over to his guests.

You’re close enough where you can hear them talk, but not enough where they can see you. “Hey, ladies,” he says. “You two havin’ a good time?” 

One of the girls, with long black hair down to her back and a mole on her chin, smirks up at him. “Mmm, now we are,” she purrs. Her friend, a redhead with fluffy cat ears and a tail swishing behind her, stands up with her drink and grabs his arm. “You’re back! Now you can give us that dance you promised.” 

Keigo goes to protest, but the girls whine and pout, both taking him by the arm. “Come oooon, you promised us,” the redhead whines.

“Just one dance, Hawks,” the black-haired woman says, that seductive smirk still on her face. “Let’s see how you move those sexy ass wings.” 

Keigo looks like he wants to say no and maybe toss in an excuse, but then his eyes trail across the room to meet yours. Your brain turns to fuzz and your body freezes like you’ve been hypnotized into doing so. He stares at you for a good couple of seconds that feel like hours to you, his golden eyes burning a hole in you.

Then he turns to the girls and smiles at them before letting them lead him to the dance floor. You watch, your mouth slightly agape and feeling stupid for not taking that drag of Dabi’s blunt when he offered. 

Keigo stands in between the two girls as they dance on either side of him, one taking the front while the other grinds into him from the back. You watch, anger slowly creeping inside of you at the sight of their hands on his hips and the redhead’s ass grinding into his groin.

As if drawn to you alone, his eyes come back to yours, scaling over every other person nearest to him. Then you realize it: he’s trying to make you jealous. But two can play at that game. 

Immediately, you begin scouting for your own conquest and find him standing by the bar with his friends. He is tall, handsome, and sporting tattoos. Perfect.

You strut over to him, titties bouncing and feeling like the sexiest woman alive, especially knowing that Keigo is watching. “Hey,” you call, gaining the stranger’s attention, especially after he gets a look at you. His friends stop dead in their tracks too, staring at you in awe.

“You wanna dance?” You give him a small, sexy smile as if a dance isn’t all you want. “With you?” he chuckles. “Hell yes.” 

You grin and take his hand in yours, dragging him over to the dance floor. You stand across the floor from Keigo, only a couple of bodies separating you. You face away from Keigo as you begin to dance with the stranger, not touching at first. You only stand in close proximity to each other, moving in tandem with one another. It is fun and he can keep up, moving his body closer and closer to yours.

Finally, his big hands grab your hips and you let him, hoping Keigo sees. Against your better judgment, you turn your head as if flipping your hair and peer over at your friend in the corner of your eye. 

There, you see Keigo slide his hands around the redhead’s hips, coaxing her to press her ass even farther into his hips. His eyes once again meet yours, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. ‘Oh, this bitch,’ you think.

Your blood has turned into liquid fire, heating up your body and warming the inner pits of your stomach. You can feel the alcohol and the thump of the music taking more of an effect now, causing you to turn around in the stranger’s arms. 

Now you’re facing Keigo while your back presses against the stranger’s front. The winged hero is still sandwiched between the two girls who giggle and grip him like he is theirs, but all of his attention is on you.

His eyebrows are knitted together, creating a crease between them, and his feathers have become frazzled. Meaning he is very, very agitated. You smirk at him despite this, something you wouldn’t do if you weren’t tipsy. You love that you’re getting to him. 

‘I told you two can play at this game,’ you think. You turn back around to face the stranger, noticing how hooded and dark his eyes have become as they rake over your form. “You know, you can really move,” he whispers. “What are you doin’ after this?” 

You know exactly what that meant. And you think about it for a moment, wondering if you should take this stranger up on his offer for a night of pure, unadulterated, meaningless sex. No strings attached. No thoughts of Rei or Keigo or anyone else but you.

But when you think of your golden-haired friend just across the room watching you, you open your mouth to give the man a polite “thanks but no thanks”.

However, someone beats you to it. A hand gently grasps your shoulder, making you turn around to see Keigo standing in front of you. “Mind if I get the next dance?” he huskily asks. 

Your heart leaps at the sight of him there and you don’t realize that a joyful smile has curled onto your lips until your cheeks begin hurting. You’re so glad he’s here. You go to give him a definite yes, but the stranger steps in front of you, a glare on his face. “Yeah, I do,” he snaps. “You see me dancing with her, don’t you?” 

You see Keigo’s expression change immediately, darkening to the point where you’re frightened. You think of him that night at the club and plead with him with your eyes to not go down that road. The stranger turns his back on Keigo to begin dancing with you again, but Keigo stops him by forcefully whirling him around to face him.

The very angry, winged hero steps to him, anger radiating off of him in waves that you can feel. “Listen,” he says, his voice dipping down an octave, "I’m not havin’ a good night as it is, so I suggest you don’t make it worse for me or yourself. I’m not the nicest when I’m pissed.” 

His wings ruffle and then, all at once, each feather sharpens to a point as if he is carrying dozens of knives on his back. The stranger’s angered expression melts into one of fear and intimidation as he stares at Keigo’s wings. “Back up,” Keigo growls, his eyes turning to slits. “She’s mine.” 

This is all it takes for the stranger to finally back off of you and slink away from the dance floor. When he’s gone, Keigo composes himself. His eyes switch back to their normal size and color and his feathers soften. When he finally looks back down at you, all you want to do is kiss him. “Think he got the picture?” he asks jokingly. 

You don’t speak. You don’t even think you can. For a moment, you both stand there in silence, the music and noise swelling around you. But none of that matters to you. Nothing matters to you but him right now. “So you came back,” he states, sounding surprised. His eyes travel over your form as if he can’t believe that you’re really standing there. And wanting him. 

You swallow, finding your voice to speak. “I did,” you reply matter-of-factly. You place your hands impatiently on your hips and raise an eyebrow at him, feeling emboldened by the alcohol and what just transpired. “And I need to talk to you,” you continue. “Can we go somewhere alone?” 

His eyes widen an inch at your bold response and question, but you also see a spark behind them. He is absolutely down for this. Though he still looks confused at your intentions, he agrees. “Sure,” he replies, already taking your hand and whisking you away. When his fingers interlock with yours, your body sings and your stomach flips excitedly from his touch. “I’ve got a place. Follow me.” 

You let him lead you away from the party and through the venue to a staircase leading up upstairs to the second floor. There, he then leads you away from the guests occupying the second floor to an empty balcony. He let you step out into the night first, the cool air refreshing and the sky starry and clear above.

He shuts the door behind him and stands near it so no one will try to come out and interrupt…whatever this is. You aren’t even sure what this is: your apology? Your confession? All you know is that you have many words left unsaid that you need to release, and you won’t leave here tonight until Keigo knows just how you feel for him. 

He stands in front of you now, arms crossed and not looking too thrilled to be here. “Why’d you come back?” he asks, getting right to the damn point because fuck beating around the bush at this point. “Things go bad with Rei so you come runnin’ to me?” 

You wince slightly at his harsh tone and words, but you know you deserve it. He has every right to be pissed at you. And you have every reason to be honest with him.

So you take a deep breath and speak: “That’s exactly right,” you confess, and you nearly laugh at his bug-eyed reaction. “Keigo, I’m not here to convince you that we belong together or to tell you I’m sorry in an effort for you to take me as more. I’m just here to tell you that you were right.” 

For a moment, Keigo pauses, processing your words and your intentions. He then raises an eyebrow, silently telling you to elaborate. With the silence, stars, and cool air encouraging you to speak, you do so. 

“I realized that Rei can’t make me happy the way I wish to be,” you continue. “I need to be with someone who sees me for the messy, complicated person that I can be. Who makes me want to do and be better just because of their love for me. Who accepts me for who I am and doesn’t ask for anything more.” 

You smile lovingly at him, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. “I’ve known for a while that this person is you,” you confess. “You’re the one I’ve been searching for. The partner I’ve been hoping to find. The man of my dreams.”

Your voice cracks slightly as all of your emotions begin to flood over you: your love; your pain; your sorrow; your want and need for the man standing before you. “I love you, Keigo,” you tearfully confess. “And I’m sorry it’s taken all of this for me to realize it.” 

You watch, in under a minute, as a dozen expressions and emotions register across Keigo’s face: Confusion. Mild Irritation. Joyfulness. Relief. You continue to speak, refusing to let this be the end of your relationship.

“You don’t have to take me if you don’t want me, and I’m not going to convince you to. I’ve put you through so much and you deserve to be with someone who isn’t going to do that to you.” Tears begin to drip from your eyes, falling down your cheeks. “But I knew if I didn’t come here and tell you face to face, I’d never be able to look you in the eye again.” 

And then you’re full-on crying. All of your hurt and guilt begin to tumble down, making all of your walls crumble. All of your layers peel back before Keigo, revealing the deepest, ugliest parts of you. Your neediness. Your need for him.

“I just want you in my life, Kei,” you sob. “I don't care if it’s just as friends or whatever the fuck. I just want you here. I need you here with me.” 

And as you cry and embarrass yourself in front of your friend, he peels back every layer of himself as well. He shows you all of him as his eyes grow glassy and wet. “I need you too,” he whispers. “I’ll always need you, Y/N. That’s never changed.”

He then takes only two strides towards you and wraps you up in his arms and his wings, blocking you out from the outside world. 

A needy, desperate gasp leaves your lips as you feel him wrap himself around you, engulfing you in a warm, tight embrace that fills you with joy and relief. You feel released from all the sorrow, guilt, and frustrations inside you.

None of that matters anymore. Not when your friend, your man, is here, feeling so warm, and solid, and real. So you hug Keigo back, pressing your face into his chest. He begins to stroke the back of your head, pressing you farther into his body. 

When he finally pulls away, his eyes and lashes are wet with tears. “So is it safe to say I told you so?” he teasingly asks. You smile up at him, a joyful giggle leaving your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. “If you kiss me, then yes,” you whisper before you stand up on your toes and your lips finally find each other’s. 

If fireworks are to appear somewhere in the distance tonight, this would be the perfect moment for them. The kiss you share with Keigo is explosive, pleasurable, and leaves you breathless. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close as your lips dance together.

The more his soft lips move against yours, the more you fall deeper and deeper in love with him. You love kissing him. You love holding him. You love him. 

A sudden bright flash of a camera ruins the moment and you two jump apart to find Rumi, Dabi, Yu, and Nemuri watching from the balcony door.

Rumi squeals happily, waving her phone around, very drunk. “Ha, ha, you crispy bitch!” she shouts proudly, bumping Dabi with her hip. “I told you so!” Dabi sighs, trying to look pissed but is obviously happy. “So much for the $50,” he sighs. 

Keigo rolls his eyes, shielding you and your embarrassment from your friends with his wings. “Do y’all mind?” he barks. “I’m trying to show my girl some love and I need you drunk freaks watching.”

Yu is the one to hustle everyone away from the balcony. “Don’t mind us!” she giggles. “Please go back to your love fest.” She drags Nemuri away while she groans in protest. “Aww, but they’re so cute!” she whines. 

You two are finally left alone and you begin to laugh together. “That picture is probably gonna end up on an IG story somewhere,” Keigo sighs.

You nod, agreeing and knowing how horrible Rumi is. “Just as long as it’s a private one,” you giggle. “But even if it isn’t, I don’t care.” 

Keigo raises an eyebrow, a sparkle in his eyes that reminds you so much of sunken treasure. “And why is that?” he huskily asks, sending a shiver down your spine.

You stand up on your toes and stay a centimeter away from his lips, inhaling his cologne. “Because I want everyone to know that I’m yours,” you purr. “And you’re mine.” 

A hand then encircles the back of your neck and all words cease to exist as Keigo presses his mouth to yours once more. 

[rowan-of-waterdeep]

Not sure I'll ever use this in a fic, but the scene has been niggling at me for a couple of weeks, so I caved and wrote it down. 🤷‍♂️

Dessert

I walk over to Wyll’s tent. He’s standing, his weight mostly on his right leg, swirling a glass of wine, staring at it in contemplation, a slight smile on his face. When he hears my footfall, he looks up, and his face brightens.

“Well met!” he says, his voice soft. Am I imagining a caressing tone creeping into the simple welcome?

“Hi,” I say, flopping onto a cushion and sprawling on the ground. “How are things going for the famed Blade of Frontiers?”

“Apart from being branded as a faithless warlock for all to see, you mean?”

“Mmm. Apart from that tiny detail,” I agree, twitching an eyebrow as I look at him sidelong.

He chuckles, sitting on the ground next to me, heedless of his clothing. “Well enough, I suppose,” he says. “I have everything I need. That village held a few bottles of wine the goblins didn’t manage to plunder. How about you?”

“The same, without the wine. But we all know that a bottle of wine and a goblin to slay is all the Blade needs to stay happy,” I say, elbowing his knee gently, curious to see if I can get a rise from him.

He takes the hint and reaches into his tent, snags another glass, pours me a generous measure of wine.

“My thanks,” I say, sipping slowly. “I can always rely on you to share your stash.”

He turns to me and his mouth opens a little as if to question me, his eyes wide with curiosity, but then a curtain draws closed over his face, his mouth shuts, and he turns his head away.

“What is it?” I ask, keen to dig under the calm facade that Wyll presents to the world.

“It’s nothing.”

“Then ask,” I say, smiling. “For the sake of making conversation, if naught else.”

“Am I so bland a conversationalist, then?”

I shake my head. “A little quiet, yes. But you’re soothing. What’s your question?”

“What did I do? Why do you like me least?”

I sit up and swivel to stare at him, aghast.

“You’re right, I should shut up,” he says, drawing his legs in to stand up. “Blame the wine.”

I lean forward and put out a hand to touch his, hoping to keep him in place. “Will you stop for a moment? Why in all the hells would you think such a ridiculous thing?”

He frowns. “I’m not offended. I’ve clearly done something to bother you that caused you to always visit me last on your rounds. Been too annoying. I thought you might give me an opportunity to mend my ways. It has been a while since I’ve travelled with companions, you know. Too much time on one’s own can send a person peculiar, I know.”

“Wyll.”

“What?”

“You’re a very silly man.”

“I’m not sure how to rectify that character flaw.”

I laugh so hard I fall off the hard cushion, while he stares at me with bemused eyes. Eventually, I calm and wipe my face of the tears of hilarity that rolled down my cheeks while I was lost in the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“I suppose I’m glad to have amused you, though I’m not sure I grasp the joke.”

“Ask me why I always visit you last, when I make my nightly check-ins with everyone.”

“I don’t think I appreciate being the butt of your joke.”

“Ask me.”

He heaves a sigh, and I can see him decide that humouring me is the fastest way to get this over with. “Why do you visit me last?”

“Because I like to finish my evening with something sweet. Someone undemanding, who will sit with me, offer me a glass of wine, and ask how I am feeling. Wyll, you’re not a chore. You’re my dessert.”

He stares at me. “I’m your what?”

“The sweetness that lingers after the work and stress of the day is done. That rewards me for the harshness of effort. That follows me down into my dreams, to lighten my sleep.”

He blinks, slowly and carefully, and puts down his wine glass. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Why the hells would I do that if I dislike you?”

He frowns, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head as his understanding of our entire relationship is upended. “You don’t dislike me, then.”

I press my lips tight together to keep another burst of laughter inside and shake my head.

“Why do you keep laughing?”

“Because I’m a fool. I thought – when I sat down with you at the end of the day, in preference to all others – I thought I was making something clear.”

He tilts his head, watching me.

“Shit,” I say, frustration roiling inside my chest. “You’re actually going to make me say it, aren’t you.”

“Considering I find myself at a loss to follow this conversation, I think I must insist.”

I sigh. “I’m developing quite a fondness for you, you oblivious twit.”

A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. “And you thought calling me an oblivious twit was a good way to start courting me?”

Laughter bursts from me, and this time Wyll joins in. 

“Clearly I’m not the only twit here,” he says, picking up his glass again and sipping, letting the smirk play over his face.

“Hmm. At least we have something other than an illithid parasite in common.”

“Oh? You’ve been looking?”

I nod, taking a gulp of the wine. It’s harsh, but the sear in my throat distracts me from the embarrassment threatening to close me down. “It’s a little difficult, getting to know you. You’re a little…” I shrug, unwilling to be critical.

“Impressive?” he asks.

“I was going to say –”

“Heroic?”

“I mean…”

“Larger than life?” 

I look up from the wine glass to see a grin on his face. He’s teasing me. “The Blade of Frontiers is taunting me?” I ask, carefully placing the wine glass on the ground next to me. “I am devastated! Agonised! Bereft!” I clutch my chest melodramatically and fall backwards into a sprawl on the ground. I crack open an eye to see Wyll bent over, laughing so hard he’s actually spilt his wine.

“You’re sillier than I realised,” he says, still chuckling, holding out a hand to help me back up to a sitting position.

“Ditto,” I say, smiling at him. “You know…” I trail off, wondering if he headed me off earlier because he doesn’t want me getting to know him better.

“Go on,” he says, sobering.

“I would like to get to know you better,” I say, slowly. “But if you’d rather just be part of the team, not complicate this by making friends, maybe more, I understand.”

The smile that spreads over his face is pure sweetness, like the first new honey after a hard winter. “All you had to do was ask.”

[ivory-lamps]

A05: The Vanished Brother's Memorial

Characters: Toi, Daniel & Ryui Location: Hama Summary: Toi agrees to help the protagonist if they help him find his brother. The protagonist decides to do so as they cannot ignore his request.

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ📍 Location: Angel Eye

Momiji / Kaede: …Fate?

Toi: Yes.

Daniel: T–This sounds real fishy…

Toi: Pardon my rudeness, but you two are here because you have a request to ask me… right?

Momiji / Kaede: Yes.

Toi: And I also have a favour to ask of you two… Don’t you think that feels predestined…?

Momiji / Kaede: I–I suppose…

Toi: If you’ll agree to help me in my search for my brother, then I'll do everything I can for your request. That, I promise.

Momiji / Kaede: Um, did you find that out through your divination?

Toi: Yes. I don’t know the specifics of your request, though.

Momiji / Kaede: (I can’t believe that’s also achievable through divination. Or is it because being the head of a noble family allows you to do special divinations too…?)

Toi: Please… I beg of you.

Momiji / Kaede: (Toi-kun, he’s pretty serious… I can’t just ignore the request of someone who needs help…)

Daniel-san.

Daniel: Ugh, don’t make me make the decisions. Just do whatever you want. I bet it doesn’t even matter what I say – you’ve already made up your mind, right?

Momiji / Kaede: Thank you.

Toi-kun, please allow us to search for your brother with you!

Toi: Y–You mean it!?

T–Thank you! I’m so happy…! Thank you so much…!

Mashiro, I actually did it – I asked them!

Mashiro: I was watching from the other side! I’m happy for you!

Daniel: Anyway, tell us what he looks like or give us some clues.

Toi: Right! I have special episodes that will tell you about my coolest brother in the world – I carefully selected them just for this moment!

Momiji / Kaede: Hm? Special episodes…?

Toi: Sigh… they’re all perfect and would fit right in a video game. Here is the first one…

Toi: (Ani-sama… he’s not here yet… This is where we’re supposed to meet, right?)

Ryui: Oh, you’re here… I just had some minor stuff to take care of. Sorry for being late.

Toi: No, it’s okay – I didn’t wait much!

Ryui: Yeah? …By the way, Toi, those clothes.

Toi: Huh? What about my clothes?

Ryui: They look great on you. Enough to make angels run away in bare feet. Oh wait, I guess they’re always barefoot, huh. Haha.

Daniel: I–I’m getting the chills…

Momiji / Kaede: Looks like his intimacy level’s already at max, huh…

Ryui: Hey, Toi, you’re wandering off again… I already told you to follow behind me, didn’t I?

Toi: Sorry. The smell of the castella cakes was too enticing…

Ryui: Geez, alright… You’re always so clumsy, so I can’t take my eyes off you for a second.

…Here, we’ll hold hands. Don’t get lost now.

Momiji / Kaede: Clumsy, huh. That’s a pretty standard line.

Daniel: They can just call each other if they get lost, right…?

Momiji / Kaede: (Actually, it’d be better to get some information about him, like his height or where he’s likely to go…)

Mashiro: Toi, you didn’t explain the important part!

Toi: Ah, you’re right! Oh, no!

Toi: Ani-sama… can I come closer to you?

Ryui: …Yeah.

Toi: …

Ryui: …

Toi: (Hold his hand…)

Ryui: ……! You…

Toi: (Oh, he tightly squeezed back… I want to touch him more!)

Ryui: W–What’s wrong with you? You’re really aggressive today… Hey, where are you touching…!? Damn it, I’m not gonna let you do whatever you want…!

…I can touch you back, right?

Daniel: This is definitely seen through rose-coloured glasses or something…! If there was a sandbag here, I would’ve punched the living daylights outta it while yelling at the top of my lungs.

Ryui: …Oh, uhh, have you been having some nice dreams lately?

You’re the one… I’m most worried about in this world.

If you’re not, then I’ll stay with you until morning.

…You know what that means, right?

Daniel: ……

Momiji / Kaede: (There’s a dead look in Daniel-san’s eyes…)

Toi: That Ani-sama was soooo cool! You think so too, right, Mashiro?

Mashiro: Of course – I have the image saved in my mind! It was the best Ani-sama for sure~!

Toi: Right~? I think so, too!

Momiji / Kaede: R–Right… Anyway, I guess he’s a really nice brother…?

Toi: And… oh, no – it’s already this late!

Momiji / Kaede: What’s wrong?

Toi: Actually… There's one more person who will lead me to my brother.

All three of you have to be together at a certain place by 11PM.

Momiji / Kaede: (There’s only an hour left…!)

Let’s hurry and get ready! Do you know where that place is?

Toi: Yes. It’s in Hama and it won’t take us that long to get there.

Sorry for being so flustered. I’ll go change so please wait in front of the store.

Daniel: Man… to think there’s supposed to be another person involved. And there’s all this fate stuff too.

Momiji / Kaede: Yeah. But don’t you feel a bit excited?

Daniel: You think this is exciting? I don’t believe in divination – it’s all just a big pain in the neck.

Toi: Thank you for waiting!

Momiji / Kaede: Oh, Toi-kun… wait.

Toi-kun… didn’t you attend Ev3ns’ Omotenashi Concert?

Toi: Huh?

Daniel: What? Did you two actually know each other?

Momiji / Kaede: No, I didn’t directly speak to him. I just noticed him in the crowd.

I think I was patrolling the venue then, but I remember since he really stood out.

Toi: I did attend their concert. D–Don’t tell me…

Are you part of… Chii-sama’s… Ev3ns’ management…!?

Momiji / Kaede: Yeah.

Toi: I–I–Is that true!? Oh, my god! I can’t believe I got to meet someone who works closely with Chii-sama!

Momiji / Kaede: (Woah… Toi-kun’s eyes are sparkling…!)

Toi: Chii-sama is a gifted person who only exists once every one thousand years! His fan-service is amazing and his dance is the best!

Chii-sama is someone who was born to be an idol! I’ve always been such a huge fan!

Mashiro: Stop right there, Toi. Things will get troublesome if your grandfather learns of this.

You should head off quietly.

Toi: Oh… you’re right. Sorry.

Momiji / Kaede: It’s fine, I don’t mind.

Daniel: Ugh… we’re doing overtime into midnight tonight…? What a drag. I can come to work late tomorrow, right? Like eight hours late?

Momiji / Kaede: No, you can’t.

Toi: Alright, Mashiro, look after the place while I’m gone.

Mashiro: Leave it to me!

Momiji / Kaede: (Still… to think that Toi-kun is Chihiro-kun’s fan and even came to the concert.)

(Tonight’s all about fate, huh… The place we’re about to head to is in ward no.18, too.)

(I have a feeling the encounters we’ll have next will be connected to the formation of the Night Group… Yeah, I can definitely feel it.)

(After all, it’s a fateful night…)

Daniel: Hey, what’re doin’ just standing there. It’s this way.

Momiji / Kaede: Right!

(I’m starting to get excited…!)

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[turnupswritessometimes]

13 questions about books

Tagged by the wonderful @holographiccs - thank you! <3

1. The last book I read:

I finished reading Fright Bite by Jennifer Killick this morning - very good, very fun middlegrade horror. Each book has different mutated animals, and this time round it was rats! We love to see it!

2. A book I recommend

So many, but The Shadow Glass by Josh Winning. What if the puppets from Labyrinth/The Dark Crystal came to life in our world? Fun shenanigans! It's a real love letter to the Jim Henson company.

3. A book I couldn't put down

The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. Yes, it's only a hundred pages or so, but I read it in one sitting. Those boys!! Those boys and their relationships and coming of age! The ending!

4. A book I’ve read twice (or more)

The Black Magician Trilogy (I know I'm cheating) by Trudi Canavan. I love the world and the characters and the magic system. The Novice is the best one because of Dannyl's arc. (We love finding out you've been using magic to suppress the fact you're gay for literal years! I'm sinking my teeth into that plot line.)

5. a book on my to-be-read

I have nearly 100 on my Goodreads to read list, lol. But I'm very interested in These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong. Romeo and Juliet but in 1920s Shanghai? Incredible!

6. a book i’ve put down

I don't often not finish a book, but 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' by Paul Alexander. You cannot make those kind of sweeping, certain claims about James Dean's life without proper referencing or a proper bibliography!

7. a book on my wishlist

'Poison in their Hearts' by Laura Sebastian, the final in the trilogy. Very Game of Thrones fantasy political intrigue, but with strong female characters who are actually well-rounded and well-written! And use their smarts in most situations! Very intrigued to see how it will all finish up.

(But I have the first two in paperback, so I really need to wait for this one to be in paperback too.)

8. a favorite book from childhood

Anything by Jacqueline Wilson, but I do have a soft spot for 'Candyfloss.' Wilson just has a way of capturing what it's like to be a child really authentically. I did also love that each chapter had a page of illustrations that fit together to hint about what was going to happen.

9. a book i would give to a friend

Lost Boy, by Christina Henry. A dark Peter Pan from Lost Boy Jamie(who wears a red pirate coat! Hint hint!)'s perspective that fits perfectly within the original book. It will make you cry!

10. a fiction book i own

Way too many...Descendent of the Crane by Joan He was one I hugely enjoyed. Very twisty Asian Fantasy with a really good romance and a great female lead.

11. a nonfiction book i own

Last Night at the Viper Room by Gavin Edwards. A really good biography of River Phoenix's life that's well researched and really highlights who he was. (And how weird everyone was about him!)

12. what i am currently reading

I'm slowly trudging my way through 'It' by Stephen King and 'Tinker Belles and Evil Queens' by Sean Griffin. Both are very good but Tinker Belles and Evil Queens requires a lot of thinking to get through. (And It has a lot of Kingisms to brace yourself for.)

13. what i plan on reading next

I've just collected 'Rumblefish' and 'That was Then, This is now,' by S.E. Hinton from the library, so I'll be devouring both of those over the next couple of days at work. I love the sense of time and place in them. There's a sparseness to the prose, and yet real depth in the characters.

I'm tagging @lizziebennetss (thank you for the follow btw! <3) and @howtotrainyourmerlin (if you feel like it)

[littleragondin]

i wanna hear your wheel spins

PLEASE

OMG 🙈 well, thank you for asking and sorry in advance for the potential word cascade... the wheel spins are done using the wonderful tool made by @lovesickfolly (thank you for this 💜💜)

I have NO self control so I ran the wheel with three different actors lol

First I picked Pawin because he is my favorite plus he's pretty versatile and I want him in everything. The wheel picked Pepper. Both are 27 so I would love an out of school setting for them please. Pawin I'm confident could make it work with anybody (still salty about his aborted crumbs with Satang). I think I'd like something a little more serious/dark for those two, something about grief or guilt maybe? Very "two person who shouldered heartbreak and trauma and responsibilities too early find each other and, in the midst of it all, find comfort in the other and, perhaps, get a chance to start healing" kind of story you know? It would probably need an ensemble cast (at least one of them needs a family with siblings - mostly bc I'm a sucker for siblings and the emotional weight they can bring). There would be a lot of crying. A lot of warmth, too. Specifically I would like a hopeful but not fairytale end. I think I'd really like to see them get a shot at two very hurt, very scarred people trying to build something together.

And then I picked Pod because I saw him get the 2nd lead treatment in the Wandee Goodday's trailer this morning and thought he deserved to get the boy somewhere today xd. For him, the wheel gave me Ford. Was a little unsure at first, but you know what? they could give me a nice age-gap romance. Not necessarily something groundbreaking, but Ford has such a soft and charming presence he would do great in a very classic tropey romance. Maybe something about a slightly jaded and over worked Pod (who works from home) learning to love again (maybe he's out of a bad divorce, or he's just generally disappointed by love) with the adorable new neighbor (they meet because Ford has lost his cat (a grumpy thing as old as he is) and tries to see if the neighbors saw him. The beast has been hanging on Pod's sofa for the last week and a half). Something cute and fluffy, a little comedic (while I have my reservations about his character, Pod was very funny in Tonhon Chonlatee). There will be a "taking care of the other when he gets sick" scene. Ford has to sing somehow. And wear an apron (he wants to cook something to thank Pod for taking care of the cat. It fails catastrophically. Maybe Pod could teach him next time? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Finally, I picked Mike (like you kfdsaj;kla) because. I just always find him delightful in everything I see him in. The wheel gave me Phuwin - because apparently the wheel said it's an age-gap day lol. And while they are not that far apart in age, my mind immediately jumped to Beyond Evil for some reason. So while I don't think I'd want something as dark for them, I think it could be fun to see them in some sort of thriller with Mike as a competent but a bit 'out there' detective (the leather jacket and bike are a must, I make the rules here) having to work with a straight laced, brilliant and young ... either detective or lawyer or SOMETHING for Phuwin (who has to wear glasses, again my game, my rules) and see them learn to tolerate then appreciate then love each other, including a climax involving one of them almost dying in the other's arms. Who nearly dies I leave to chance, throw the dices about it. There would be so much bickering. Some wound tending, obviously. Phuwin's character clinging to Mike's for dear life the first time he takes him on the bike. Protecting each other. Yeah I would love to see that actually.

This makes me realize, once again, how branding pairs robs me (yes, me, personally) of so. many. options. (even if the only branded pair actor in my selection is Phuwin, my comment still stand xd)

[shmowder]

Two dollars?? Whoa. I'll keep an eye out for a sale. Based on screenshots, it seems like P1 has more dialogue and more opportunities to get to know the characters better? I love the P2 art style so much though so it might be hard to get used to the original. I know some people have the opposite problem and are unhappy with some of the redesigns.

We like the same aspects of yandere <3 Oh I need to rant for a second. There's nothing wrong with legitimately enjoying the violence and kidnapping aspects, but I do feel like there's sometimes too much emphasis on making sure readers don't think you're (general "you") romanticizing yanderes. Like intellectually I know it's unhealthy you don't have to tell me every other sentence that this is wrong and bad and that the reader insert isn't supposed to like it! 🤧 ... Ngl I love willing!reader 🫣🫣 Anyway. Rant over :)

I'll never get over actually being asked for my thoughts?? Thank you, even though I often feel out of my depth lmao. Please tell me about yandere Aspity!

In addition to what you said, I think Maria would be prone to jealousy too but unlike Katerina, would feel more of a sense of entitlement and is more prone to lashing out at others and at you occasionally. Katerina is more likely to internalize perceived rejection and be self-destructive about it. They'd both want to dress you up and do your makeup (even if you don't normally wear any) like a doll >:)

Lara and Peter might be the clingy/obsessive type, would latch on to the idea of you as a lifeline to pull them out of their despair. Lara would try to prove herself to you through acts of service; you'd be the inspiration for Peter's art and he'd give you little gifts all the time.

Victor would be overprotective, treating you like glass and like you've said before, wanting you to feel you can come to him, only, with your troubles. Would also randomly ignore you occasionally lol :( He can't help it he's too lost in thought! Big Vlad would spoil the ever loving fuck out of you *and* intimidate everyone else away.

Btw. I read your Andrey x reader hcs last night and they were really good! I don't really feel anything for this guy but it seems like you've got his personality just right :) I've never wanted piercings in my life, why is that part speaking to me 😭 (ok, that's a lie, I did want snakebites when I was seventeen :o)) I liked the little bit about sketching diagrams afterwards, too. Your smut is so good forreal

🐿️ anon

Delicious juicy food delivered straight to my inbox for FREE? I am in heaven and ascending even higher rn.

I want to let you know that this concept lived in my head rent-free for the past week. Each time I came to answer this ask, I'd get distracted by the brief yandere drabbles you wrote and get lost in the fantasy. Especially the overprotective Victor one, it's my favourite. Oh god, you're a genius. Tell me more I beg!

And yes P1 had a lot more dialogue which is nice because it explains the story a lot more. Especially characters like Aglaya who get a lot of backstory and other things revealed about them. It's a game that does the best it could with the very very limited technology it had at the time, and despite the graphics it's beautiful in some areas.

The music is its crowning gem however! P1 soundtrack literally blows P2 soundtrack out of the water. It's like the devs know the graphic and everything is lacking in P1 so they more than made up for it with fire music that gets you in a trance of how amazing it sounds.

I think the major flaws are how the charactersation and story is slightly different. Some characters like Victor and Aglaya remain the same but other characters like Alexander Saburov are massively different. Also as a majority everyone is more of an asshole in P1, especially Artemy and Daniil at times.

Eva and Andrey are more slutty... do with that what you will.

Yulia in P1 feels like a younger Yulia who's still lost and figuring out life. Like a freshly out of college Yulia. While in P2 she's more of a jaded full grown up who knows how the world works but is displeased by it. I love both versions <3 She is one of the very polite characters in P1... which are surprisingly sparce. P1 is also more funny and silly with the dialogue, it's more whimsical with more realistic options too. Also you get a lot of opportunities to break the 4th wall while in P2 you can only do it while talking with the rat prophet, the replacement Artemy and endgame Mark.

And I agree with you about the yandere thoughts. The horror ones are fun but sometimes I want romanticised obsession and devotion yk? Like a yandere ready to move the earth and bring down the moon for their beloved. Where the conflict is more focused on the emotions and intenal turmoil rather than the murder or horror aspect. Even when it comes to the reader, I enjoy a little toxic reader too 👀 Like someone who encourages their yandere behaviour or doesn't mind it, someone who is okay with the obsession or someone who actively goes out of their way to make it worse. A reader who's a full fledged character rather than a damsel in distress, someone who takes actions and can effect the world around them.

But don't get me wrong! I do like a damsel in distress... as a kink. It's kinda hot to be a useless fawned upon princess that everyone is looking to save and please.

Yeah, I feel you so much on the "Don't have to tell me this is wrong every sentence." Like, oh my god, dude! I hate when stories treat the reader like they're an idiot. You have to have faith in them, especially when your content is marked for adults that they will be able to read between the lines. Like you don't see murder or serial killer stories saying how this is wrong every sentence?? Yandere is just a mix of horror, romance, and smut! It's just an archetype with interesting concepts and maybe even a fetish.

Why do people have to psychoanalyse every kink someone has??

I'll get back to the other characters in a bit, let's focus on the overprotective Victor for example! bc the brainrot is real i legit haven't stopped thinking about him for one second.

In one of his dialogue trees he has this line:

5.Victor Kain: ...If I'd learned about this earlier, I would have torn his head off already. Now give me thirty-five seconds of silence, please. I need to think.

It's when you inform him about the chemist who's helping people hide their dead. The same one who buys body parts from Artemy, he apparently also works for tha kains but manages to hide his shady businesses right under their nose.

And his reaction is just odjwofjwofkwk So Delicious? Like that chemist posed a real threat to tramble down on the fragile castle the Kain built with their reputation, start a domino effect which exposes them as law breakers for the townfolks which they absolutely cannot have.

You see him angry, even if it's just a small glimpse. He could've worded it more elegantly, used so many different expressions. But no, Victor chose the phrase "tear his head off"

THE FERALITY! THE POTENTIAL MY GOD. This man is so good at making himself a safe and trustworthy pragmatic person so much you forget there's a wide awake tiger with deadly focus behind those melancholic eyes, weighting your every word and soaking in all the information you unawarly expose to him. Memorising all the names you mention, drawing a map in his brain of your social circle and connections. Saying so little himself just to get you to keep talking and telling him more and more until a secret or two spill out without you realising it.

The way he's briefly quiet before snapping, composing himself, and holding back the flood of rage in his brain from bubbling to the surface. "I would've torn his head off" only scratches the surface of what he really wanted to do and say.

Even this simple sentence from someone usually so polite and level-headed paints a gruesome picture of a predetor's sharp teeth tearing apart a person's brain, completely dislocating the head from the shoulders and tearing the skin off with one bite. The crunching of the skull as it caves under the pressure of the tiger's jaw.

AND THEN YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE AND TELL ME HE IS AN OVERPROTECTIVE YANDERE!! I love you so much.

All that anger directed towards anyone who wishes you harm. It's like you struck a match inside him and now he simply cannot help but watch out for your well being from behind the curtains.

His obsession stems from thinking of you as... lesser to put it kindly. Of course you will never be aware of this condescension nor how he views you as a fragile thing unfit for the real world, a glass figurine that needs to be handled with delicate gloves so you won't crack.

Non the wiser, you think he's just a really good listener. So when he invites you over for tea, you oblige and just spill your heart out to him. Telling him how your week went, talking about the boring details and your hobbies, mentioning the mundane things like your trip to the grocery store.

And he never interrupts, at first you thought it was a little creepy how he'd have you over just to listen to you talk. Only answering with questions and dismissing any questions directed towards him ir his well being, saying he'd rather know about you more.

But with time you warmed him to him, I mean it is Victor Kain? He has never done harm to anyone has he? Sure the Kains have some screws loose but Victor always seemed the calmest one amidst his eccentric family.

You think that maybe he is just lonely and needs company or a friend! He's definitely awkward when it comes to normal conversation, so you're understandable when all he wants to talk about is you.

As far as you're concerned, that's as deep as youre surface relationship goes. It starts with afternoon tea and ands just after the sun sets down when he walks you home, ever the old school gentleman. Strange tho, he never walks anyone else home and lets Maria run loose at any hour of the night. But you've never given it much thought.

You poor sweet thing, so unaware of the monster you're feeding. The obsession you're helping nurture whenever you oblige to his request or head his advice. The rush of satisfaction that runs through his veins when you come running to him to vent after a particularly hard day, the addicting euphoria flooding his system when you thank him for listening, saying how he's the only person you trust with these embarrassing things.

Victor who's pulling strings when you're not looking. Taking over your life and holding power over every aspect of it so he can fine tune it, surgically decide every small detail like he's tinkering with the delicate inner-machinery of a clock.

Making sure he is your sole support system. Coincidentally, the friends you make are offered jobs back at the Capital and have to move away. The grocery near your house relocates, and the closest one is right next to the Kain's resident.

Whichever job you held is deemed too dangerous for someone as helpless as you and he takes it upon himself to talk to someone who talks to someone else who persuades the owner into getting you fired or at least you're out of business if it's privately owned. No one wants your services, they all deeply admire the Kains and would run to please him at the drop of a hat.

No one but Victor who so kindly extends a helping hand. If you refuse chairty money then he immediately suggest working for him instead, he needs a helper you see. No matter what excuse or response you have prepared, he has already accounted for all of them and has a convincing counter-argument.

You don't have to know that in reality, he just thinks the world is too dangerous for you to freely roam and get a job. If you want to play pretend as boss and employee then he will indulge your childish antics and offer you a job, either way the end is the same with you slowly migrating more and more under his wing and care.

Stripped of your income, support system and any opportunity for growth. Once Victor has you in his claws, he will make sure you never slip through his fingers.

Tbf he is content with you just being around, as long as you're safe and sound under his watch he will even if you just see him as a friend and nothing more.

Because while helping you is enthralling, not knowing where you are is the worst withdrawal he has ever experienced. And that man lived at the Capital before, do not let his grown up facade tirck you, he's probably even tried coke and all drugs under the sun at some point in his youth out of sheer boredom or curiosity.

It ircks him thinking you're vulnerable and bare outside for anyone to grab, it makes his brain ache to see you in a situation outside of his own control. He needs you to live in a world of his own making for all of eternity or he feels like ripping his hair out.

Zero expectations are set upon you to do anything. He isn't looking for a slave or a housewife, he just wants to be reassured no harm will ever befall you and keeping you under his watchfull gaze is the best solution he could come up with.

So what if you're basically a glorified pet? You still have your freedom... although limited. You can pursue your hobbies, indulge in his money and even befriend his two kids if you feel like it.

If you get really desperate for company other than his own and the Kains, then maybe he will think about letting you socialise with the other utopians every now and them. The mostly do not pose any dangers but some of them (caught Andrey, Eva and Vlad the Younger) Do really test his patience and boil his blood with jealousy from the shameless sexua advances and romantic propositions they throw your way as if he wasn't in the room.

Still, the utopians are your toys to play with until you're content. Didn't you ask for friends?

But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't thinking of more... forgive his brain, humans are inherently flawed and he cannot help but think of you in rather scandalous ways at times. Animalistic desires of lust and love rearing its head. Whenever you lean too close to him, pat your beautiful eyelashes or call his name out with a faux whine.

He's more than open to a seemingly "normal" relationship with you. As long as you get used to his busy schedule and periods of ignoring the world around him while in deep thought. He lives in his own brain most of the time and you rarely if ever guess what's going on in his life at any give day.

He remains an enigma while settling for nothing less than your whole heart laid bare before him on a silver tray. Proding at the fragile organ, never causing it any harm as he caresses it with gentle fingers. Feigning ignorance of the way his mouth waters, salvia dripping down the sharp fangs.

But again, he's down to compromise. You can only go places if he's by your side, even his own brother, the judge, he doesn't trust to accompany you alone.

-

God that was a fucking treat to write and think about. Talking with you is always so fun, I can just let go and say everything on my mind. When writing fanfics or sharing my thoughts to others I always trim the edges and make sure I'm not repeating myself yk? I have to put in effort to make my thoughts presentable and tied nicely with a bow, compress it down to bite sizes.

But man i am living the dream! A wall of text! my purpose in life! I wrote so much in such a short time that my fingers actually hurt.

Anyway I have more so let's keep going!

-

YANDERE BIG VLAD MY BELOVED.

He'd also fall on the overprotective category but not possessive controlling like Victor Kain. No, He'd want you to genuinely be happy.

Spoils you rotten, without decorum or an excuse. Literally buys you anything and everything, even the things you don't ask for he will get you just because he thought you might like them.

The softest thing with you despite how harsh and uncaring he is with others.

Don't get him wrong. He is still a ruthless businessman with shady and amoral practices, he simply does not care. The only things worth it in this life are the people you love, and he loves his family the most.

Including you! Surprise! He starts considering you part of his family. His love is definitely not just platonic however but he does hold the most shame when it comes to getting together with someone after his dead wife yk?

Especially if you're younger, oh my god he lacks morals yes but this is just humiliating. He gets over it easily.

If you want someone who is extremely self-aware and the guilt of lusting after a young adult really eats him up to the core, then look at none other than Alexander Saburov. Not only is his wife still alive so triple the shame and guilt, but also you're a 20/30 something cutie and he well past middle age. He is getting his ass beaten by his conscience inside his own mind and having a moral crisis.

Anyway, back to Big Vlad. I think he'd try to make you get with his son as a way to coerce you into joining the family, especially if you say he is too old for you.

Try saying Victor Kain is too old for you and that old man 404 errors on the spot then quickly recovers pulls up the shady "well the passage of time is subjective and age does not define a human's mind as long as they are a sound adult" argument. I don't think he himself remembers the fact he is almost 60. Age and time is just a suggestion to the Kains.

However Big Vlad would never pull the "becoming your boss" move ever. He wants you to see him as someone close and in an intimate light, that move will just ruin everything he has built. If he wants to throw money your way then he will shamelessly do it without tact and no one can stop him.

You do get your own worms bodyguards and nice herb brides who watch over you courtesy to him however.

Alexander might be the biggest simp in yanderes but he will hesitate before doing something which conflicts with his convictions.

Big Vlad however, will not.

Your suggestions are heard and the changes you demand in his treatment of the kin are immediately obeyed. He tries his best to please you and make you happy, you literally have this man wrapped around your pinky.

A single kiss would have his brain haywire, all it takes is a pat of your pretty eyelashes and a cute pout and all the complaints fizzle from his brain. You immediately win the argument by default.

While sex is good and all, I feel like he is more of a romantic at heart. Genuinely a big doofus in love and would melt over something as simple as hand holding or having you sleep against his chest. He lives for the early morning breakfast where your eyebrows are scrunched from being so sleepy, as you walk over and sink into his arms.

If Victor Kain treats you like a glorified pet and Alexander Saburov like the temptation & sin incarnate then Big Vlad treats you like royalty, a literal prince/princess fallen into his lap and he's the king who will ensure you have the most pampered and spoiled life ever.

You're not helpless in Big Vlad's eyes, he doesn't infantilise you like Victor Kain does. If anything you're the most capable and talented person in the entire world, which is why you deserve everything good and sweet in it.

-

I have so many more ideas and concepts! I love your idea of Maria and Katerina treating the reader like a doll and dressing you up then making out with you- Like you're just a beautiful thing to them to cuddle with as they fall asleep and string along on dates.

Yandere Maria wouldn't care what you have to say, she never begs or asks, she just takes. The day she decides you are here doll, everyone acknowledges that you are off limits because who in their right mind would oppose Maria??

And while Katerina doesn't hold much power, her husband is the leading authority over the town criminal and justice system. He is also the biggest simp to her and is 100% okay with being a cuck if it means his wife is happy.

If having you as her precious doll to dress up, smooch, and play with will put a stop to her morphine addiction, then he'd step over his own morals and look the other way.

YANDERE ASPITY MY LOVE. She has potential! I adore non-humans obsessing over a human. You're not like other humans, you're full of surprises and she wants to test and study you more. You make her see worth in her life and the world beyond the earth and why she was born.

I also like the implication that since she is literally a piece cut from boddho's heart and moulded into a person like clay, that if she falls in love with you then the earth itself would too. With Yandere Aspity you get a Yandere Boddoh and the entirety of the kin for free!

Maybe even possessive Aspity who doesn't want to share you with the earth, who refuses to hand you over and wants you to be hers. A piece of the earth defying its original self, establishing herself as her own person by choosing to love you and never share you.

But my food already went cold, and my fingers are growing numb, so I will cut it short for now.

Ha. Short. I say while having written the entire front page article of a gossipy small town's newspaper.

Do tell me about your thoughts! I love hearing them and reading what you write! Be it your thoughts about other yanderes or your opinions of what I have written. Or even an entirely different concept in general.

Lastly, thank you so much for the praise! I'm glad you liked my Andrey fic. He was a bit challenging to write because as you can see I specialised in romanticism and down bad old men and he's a fuck boy with anger issues and a renaissance man. So I had to conceade that no, he won't take you on picnics but he will take you to get your nipples pierced and maybe get a matching set of his own.

I'm happy you like my smut! I struggled a lot with figuring out how to write it ironically- I stuided romance and fluff I didn't take any good dick courses! So I only improved through trial and error, I changed my smut style so many times ah- The current one is the one I like most!