#that can come together but can’t ever compare to the original

[crowsyart]

Mizune lore stuff to go along with my witch lore

[storywriter007]

Hi I recently found your page and fell in love with your stories!! I was just wondering if I could request a Percy x reader (maybe Hera’s forbidden child if that's ok) they got together after Percy and Anabeth broke up. And they fight because of Anabeth and how Percy and her are still really close even after the breakup. And reader feels like a second choice and a replacement that can’t compare to the original. something like that but I was hoping that we could get jealous and regretful Percy to

I Needed You - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: ooooh ofc i hope you like this!!

warnings: cursing, toxic relationships

genre: angst

word count: 1k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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requests are closed

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"you're a disgrace to my name and everything i stand for!"

for years, y/n had tried so hard to gain her mother's approval. she had done everything: she studied until dawn, trained like no tomorrow, sacrificed her life and sanity, and defended this wicked woman to her peers.

but it wasn't enough. it was never enough. because to hera, y/n was only her forbidden child. the mistake, the accident, the thing that was never supposed to happen.

"you are the worst thing that's ever happened to me! i didn't want you, i didn't want you to be here!" the angry goddess boomed.

"yeah? well, i didn't want to be here either!" y/n yelled back, tears welling up in her eyes.

"everyday, i ask the fates why the hell did luke castellan die when it should've been you! it should've been you who didn't make it out! it should've been you!" she screamed

y/n went quiet; she could feel the eyes on her. she could see zeus next to hera, looking down at the marble floors with sincerity.

she knew it was low when zeus empathized with her.

"i ask them the same thing mom." y/n said softly, a tear spilling out of her eye.

she took a few steps backward, before turning around to walk away.

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the cruel words of her mother replayed in her head as she made her way to percy's apartment. she was minutes away from a breakdown as she knocked on his door.

no answer.

she knocked again, this time, percy quietly opened the door. his eyes were flooded with sympathy, but it wasn't for y/n. she looked past his shoulder to see annabeth on his couch, her face in her hands.

"sorry y/n, can you come back later?" he whispered. "annie's going through something right now."

"yeah, sure." y/n said calmly, feeling her heart shatter.

what could be so important?

"is she okay?" y/n asked.

"yeah, she's fine." percy continued. "she just got a bad grade on her test, and she's really upset about it. y'know how much this stuff means to her."

"aw, i understand." she lied.

no she didn't. a test grade? seriously? y/n had just had the fallout of the lifetime with her mother, and she had told percy about having to talk to her mother beforehand. but of course, when it came to annabeth, he had to drop everything.

"thanks." he smiled before shutting the door quickly.

y/n walked back to her own apartment, fingers pressed against her mouth to block the violent sobs. as soon as she got home, she collapsed on the floor and cried.

she wondered the same thing she had wondered her whole life: why wasn't she good enough?

was this a curse her mother had placed on her? the overwhelming feeling of inferiority that would follow her everywhere. she hated herself, she hated everything about herself, and everybody returned the sentiment. from her mother to her boyfriend, she was just unlovable.

and the one time she needed percy, he wasn't there for her.

hours passed by as y/n wept, and once it struck midnight, she had run out of tears. she steadily got up and drank a sip of water before sitting on her couch. she brought her knees to her chest as she looked out to the city.

suddenly, there was a knock on the door. she didn't have energy to talk to anyone right now.

the knock persisted and she opened the door to see sea green eyes staring at her. she defeatedly opened the door and let him in.

"sorry it took me so long, annie was really upset-"

"shut up, percy. just shut up!" she snapped.

he paused.

"what? are you okay?"

"no! i'm not okay! i told you that i had to go talk to hera today!"

"oh shit, y/n, i'm sorry, i completely forgot!"

his face changed as the realization hit his face.

"i don't give a fuck! you dropped everything as soon as annabeth showed up, didn't you?" she asked, angrily. "i-i mean i get it, okay? you forgot, that's fine. but i came to your door, barely keeping it together, you could see the tears in my eyes and hear my shaky voice, but you just shut the door and acted like i didn't exist until now!"

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry." he apologized, coming closer to her.

"i don't care that you're sorry! i'm sick of you always prioritizing annabeth over me!"

"i'm sorry, i got caught up-"

"i don't care! stop telling me you're sorry if you're not going to change!"

"y/n, please. i'm sorry i wasn't here before, but i'm here now." he pleaded.

"you should've been here before!" she said. "you should've been here when i needed you to be!" her voice cracked.

"don't cry, please, please don't cry."

"but instead, you were with annabeth. comforting her, choosing her, like you always do!"

"i'm sorry, she was hur-"

"she was hurt? i was hurt when my own fucking mother told me she wished i was dead!"

"oh my gods, y/n, i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."

"stop saying sorry like you care!" she said, tears streaming down her face. "our entire relationship, you've just treated me like the next best thing. the girl you took because annabeth didn't want you anymore. i'm your second choice."

"y/n." he said softly, walking over to her.

"go home percy. i'm sure there's someone who needs you more than i do right now."

"y/n, i'm sorry." he pleaded.

"no, i've had one of the worst days of my life, and i needed you. and you chose to be with someone else." she said through tears. "so now, you're going to chose to be without me."

"y/n."

she didn't say anything. he quietly began making his way to the door, but she didn't spare him a look. she looked outside the window, at the city lights. in the reflection, she could see him. she could see the regret and pain in his eyes. he opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped. his eyes filled with water as he quietly shut the door and left.

[sun-and-moon-mushroom]

AU where, at some point after Bingge gets thrown into the Abyss, SJ decides he’s had enough of the murder accusations and having to listen to teenage attempts to play music and wrote poetry, and decides to fuck off. He tells YQY he’s going into ‘seclusion’ for his cultivation and proceeds to change his clothes, hairstyle, and wear something that covers his face as he starts travelling around as a wandering cultivator under his original name (if asked if he’s related to that Shen, he just tells the truth — he’s an orphan who never knew his family). This eliminates at least 60% of his stress and anxiety since he’s actually able to relax without worrying about insults or keeping his reputation as a cold and elegant immortal master intact.

Time goes on, and eventually Bingge comes back. Hearing that SQQ is away, he figures he’ll just use the time to focus on gathering power and collecting evidence before he can take his revenge. Along the way, he ends up in a small town, where he ends up going to a brothel because Xin Mo is being annoying and he left his wives at home. He steps in the door and — is that Shen Qingqiu???

SJ doesn’t recognise this handsome stranger who’s uncommonly polite to prostitutes. It’s been years since he saw LBH and he was an underfed teenager then, no taller than him. Even the name wouldn’t jog his memory since it’s not like he ever used the little beast’s name outside of the occasional bit of paperwork. So, he invites him over for tea and they talk.

LBH is immediately convinced that this cannot be SQQ because he’s actually being nice to him. He invited him to sit down and have tea! He’s asking for his opinion on the music! He’s smiling! LBH is pretty sure SQQ would rather drop dead than smile at anyone, let alone him! He goes into conspiracy mode: is this a long lost relative? amnesia?? an alternate universe counterpart??? possession????

SJ now has to deal with this strange cultivator following him around, always ‘coincidentally’ visiting the same towns he does and offering to help him on night hunts… because LBH is too curious about this not-Shen-Qingqiu to leave him alone. Eventually, SJ decides the best way to get rid of this stranger is to become disliked by him, something he’s got plenty of experience with. Of course, his entire life story (who’s going to connect it to the Qing Jing peak lord anyway? and it feels surprisingly good to actually tell someone) is the perfect choice.

This has the opposite of the intended effect, as now they’re bonding over their mutually awful childhoods. SJ complains about how at least LBH had a mother, LBH points out that maybe it’s better to never have someone than loose them, and SJ brings up Yue Qi. LBH says he was abandoned in the Demon Realm, because the Endless Abyss is a bit unrealistic for an ordinary cultivator to escape, SQQ points out that he would probably have preferred the Demon Realm to the sect he ended up in, and LBH has to agree. LBH talks about his shitty master and SJ can’t help but compare him to Qiu Jianluo.

Bingge is Bingge, so of course this ends up with them in bed together. In a moment of passion, LBH accidentally calls him Shizun… and SJ realises, and immediately goes into crisis.

[brittle-doughie]

OH GOD THERE'S TWO OF THEM

hiiii Brittle, its me, Blue Bird Anon! I come bearing gifts of cookie sprites! Crowned Cupcake Cookie (based on Runebrave's lovely design) and her brother of my own creation, Royal Icing Cookie. I had a lot of fun designing and drawing them so I hope you and everyone enjoy as well! (pssst also my art blog is scarabeeart ;3)

I saw an anon guess that Royal Icing was the pure opposite of his sister, and while that wasn't my original concept for him, I thought the contrast between the two would be a very funny idea hjggffg him being a totally normal, genuinely good guy while his sister is. like that.

But the idea I had for him was a classic prince charming, but with the levels cranked to 11. Brave, chivalrous, humble, generous, rides a white horse, he's got it all! All he wants is to sweep Y/N Cookie off their feet like in a romantic fairy tale and ride into the sunset for their perfect happily ever after together <3 May let the prince charming thing go to his head as he has a secret hero complex and will often put Y/N Cookie into danger purely just so he can heroically swoop in and rescue them. And while his sister is more physical with her use of force to chase away those who get too close to Y/N Cookie, Royal Icing is more manipulative and unhanded. Not above willing to plant fake evidence on other suitors and use it as a way to turn Y/N against them and only trust him. "These Cookies are merely trying to marry you only to claim the throne, they want to usurp you, your adviser is scheming and plotting against you" and all the other fairy tale tropes. Will never fess up to sneaking around because his perfect prince image is incredibly important to him. You trust him, right? He's your fiance! Your prince charming, your knight in shining armor. Of course he wouldn't lie to you <3

(hehe sorry for writing so much! I've been thinking about this for too long hjgfhjgf)

First of all.

That’s some damn incredible work you made here. You are getting a follow from me!

Crowned Cupcake now actually looks like canon compared to my more simple style! She’s even pulling a Cherry Blossom with that triangle mouth there!

Royal Icing too! He looks just as amazing, definitely the charismatic type that no cookie would doubt has a dark side to him! Both of them are just wonderfully done and I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to do this!

I did think about Icing being exactly like his sister rather than being a kind soul, with him taking the more psychological approach rather then the brute forcing Crowned would do. He’s willing to play any card in his hand to turn it in his favor, even if it meant falsely accusing other cookies if it meant getting them of the picture.

You would trust him more at first. After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong to warrant any kind of suspicion on him! These liars can’t prove anything against your Prince, so you’ll take his side more often then not.

Overall, this is spectacular and I greatly appreciate the work that was done here!

[saltydkdan]

Salty i wanna get into Baki which one do you recommend,the manga or the anime?

Oh you just woke up the fucking beast (I'm so sorry).

I LOVE this question, and as a recent Baki fan myself, I can tell you that getting into the series as a Western consumer can be rough if you don’t have a basic guide to know what you’re getting into…. so that’s what I’m gonna make this post (TEEHEE).

This series has gotta be one of the most insane shonen- actually no- one of the most INSANE PIECES OF FICTION I've ever experienced, and I NEED more people to check it out. Like, LOOK AT THIS SHIT DUDE.

Baki out of context somehow even puts Jojo's Bizarre Adventure to shame. The way I usually pitch it to people is that Baki is as insane as people THINK Jojo is before they read it. Shit is just... MAN LMAO. OBAMA IS FUCKING IN THIS.

Unlike more popular stuff like Dragon Ball and Hunter x Hunter, a lot of this series has just never been officially localized, so knowing where to start, and even how to support the series, is a hard task if you don’t know what you’re doing.

Thankfully THAT’S WHAT YOU HAVE ME FOR. This Tumblr post is gonna be your one stop shop for how to get into Baki as an English speaker (and it’ll give me some space to ramble about one of my latest favorite series).

But uh before we get into the nitty gritty, wanna put some trigger warnings for the series for those who may want to know. Listen, I know how some of these are gonna look to the average person, but this series just be like that sometimes, if you can’t take stuff like this trust me it’s insanely valid. You’ll understand if you choose to take the plunge.

SERIES TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Animated Blood/Violence, some animated gory imagery, Incest (???), Nudity, Urine stuff, Bigfoot/Animal Violence, Death, Uncomfortable looking muscles, and one instance of sexual violence (offscreen)

If you are comfortable with all that (and again, valid as fuck if you aren’t) then let’s talk BAKI!

First off, Manga or Anime?

You would think that either would be fine, but my personal recommendation for Baki as a beginner, is to watch the anime over reading the manga. Simply put: The anime is a lot more widely available and accessible in English speaking territories, and is fairly easy to support officially with its current iteration.

For whatever reason, the manga just never really took off in the West when compared to other series, so it was only ever officially released in English a handful of times, and they only ended up publishing the first few volumes. Theoretically, you can read the first few books to start, but the entire series all together is legit longer than One Piece at a whopping 1,203 chapters, so you are gonna run out of material real quick. The fraction of officially available manga barely scratches the surface of the series.

Even if you’re stubborn about reading the manga and want to try reading fan translations, they come with their own separate batch of issues. Plenty of fan scans you can find online range from wildly outdated, to generally being poor quality at best. There’s even some fan translations that just straight up make shit up and don’t even properly translate the original script. Adding in extra dialogue and slurs randomly to make the text seem way edgier than it actually is.

Full disclosure, I wanna cut through my bias here and say that there are indeed some great scans available on the internet if you look hard enough, especially for the more recent content! But they aren’t super easy to track down with how the series is formatted, and you may accidentally find yourself reading the story out of its proper order.

The watch/read order of Baki is a bit of a toughie for new people, but is actually pretty simple once it’s explained. The story of Baki is split up into multiple different series, kind of similar in format to Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. Though instead of “Parts”, Baki is split up into completely different manga and TV series. This is why many fans get confused initially, especially with the watch order, because it isn’t laid out in an easy to understand way at first glance.

The most well known series are currently streaming on Netflix, but those aren’t the ones you wanna start with. Nope, the story of the Baki anime actually starts way back in 2001, in a TV show that isn’t streaming officially online. Now if you want to watch out of order, I’m not gonna stop you. You can do whatever you want, by all means, but you’re gonna be missing some VERY important story context, and some characters just won’t hold the same weight.

So if you DO want to watch in order, come with me my friend. Let me show you-

BAKI’S SUPER COOL AND NOT AT ALL CONFUSING WATCH ORDER:

Baki the Grappler (2001) (24 episodes)

This is the original 2001 anime adaptation, the very start of serialized Baki anime. You’re gonna wanna start here trust me.

This series isn’t streaming anywhere officially online, but you can find it… places. Seek it out, trust me, because otherwise you’re gonna pay way too much for out of print DVDs on Ebay. Thankfully though you have options! The series is both subbed and dubbed (as well as every series I discuss from this point forward.

This show is the very start of serialized Baki anime, the very beginning of Baki Hanma’s story. Although it’s not in the way you may think. Despite this being the earliest point in the Baki timeline, it’s actually an adaptation of a later story arc from the manga.

Now I know what you’re thinking, “Didn’t you just say this is where I should start? Why is it adapting something from later in the story?”, and yeah it’s valid to be confused. While yes this is the first ever Baki anime, for some reason the staff behind it made the decision to move this later arc up a bit from the original manga. In my honest opinion, I feel like this is actually a great decision.

As you will see as you watch, this honestly FEELS like this should be where the story begins. The escalation of power and storytelling from this point onward feels very natural, and you won’t miss out on anything or spoil yourself whatsoever on later events.

This is the de facto best starting point.

Grappler Baki Maximum Tournament (2001) (24 episodes)

This is effectively the second season of Baki the Grappler. For whatever reason they decided to title it something else, and while this is the norm for the series later on, this name change is weird because it adapts an arc from the original manga just like the first season of anime I just talked about.

Whatever lol.

Anyway this series, much like the previous, isn’t officially available as of now. So your best option is to SEARCH for it. SEARCH on the INTERNET. Or y’know. The good ol’ expensive out of print DVD on Ebay route.

In my opinion, compared to the first season, this one feels a bit slower paced and a bit of a slog at points but HOLD STRONG TRUE BELIEVER. This season is the introduction to a lot of mainstay characters in the series. Many of which you will come to love, even if you don’t know it yet.

BAKI (2018) (39 episodes) (NETFLIX)

This is the modern adaptation of Baki. After the last series ended in 2001, the anime went on hiatus for 17 years before it was announced that it would be coming back with a modern coat of paint.

Contrary to what you may think, this isn’t a ground up reboot. It’s a continuation of the exact point they left off years ago, right after the Maximum tournament. The only thing that kind of sucks about this is that, at least for the English dub, they replaced most of the voice cast. Most of the new VAs do a great job, however you may need to get used to Yujiro Hanma having Shadow the Hedgehog’s modern VA from the games haha.

Thankfully, you can officially support this series easily via Netflix. Normally I’m pretty eh on Netflix as of late, but this being the only way you can support the show officially in the west, I personally recommend it.

Baki Hanma (2023) (39 episodes) (NETFLIX)

This is the most recent anime! It’s also on Netflix.

Me and my friends just got to this on our watchthrough together.

Anyway, this is my list! If after you catch up you wanna hop into the manga and read the fan scans, I’ve heard that you can start on Baki Hanma/Baki Son of Ogre (chapter 183).

Hope you enjoy the funny man punching show! Feel free to report back and tell me how you feel about it (positive OR negative)!

Like I said, I've been watching the series with friends on Discord every night or so when we're free and MAN. Baki is fucking AMAZING WITH FRIENDS. It just never slows down after a certain point, and it just gets stranger and crazier.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

To Make a House a Home

Summary: House hunting in California was proving to be a challenge. Leave it to Bradley to manage to pull off the biggest surprise you’ve ever gotten.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n, can be read as unnamed OC) 

Word Count: 1.6K 

Warnings: smut, fluff, language 

Notes: This was written off the blurb request I got during my TGM Blurb Party by @cherrycola27​. She requested Bradley. Smut/Fluff. House. “You can’t trick me into confessing my secrets” and it ran away from me, so she gets a one shot instead. Hope you like it and that it worth the wait, girlfriend!

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“I don’t think I can handle an open house today, baby. Can we just go back to the apartment instead?” 

The dejection in your voice was clear. You had been on the market for a house for months now that you had relocated to San Diego from Virginia. But the market was nearly impossible right now, and you were dealt rejection after rejection for every single offer you put in. You were renting an apartment on a month to month basis with the majority of your things packed away in a storage unit, and both of you were so eager to get out of the third floor walk up and into a place you could make a home. 

Bradley squeezed your hand before bringing it to his lips as he took an exit off the freeway. It was sunny but not too hot today, and the wind from the open windows made the strands of your hair flutter around your face. “Just one, okay? I have a good feeling about this."

“Just one?” you asked, hesitation and reluctance in your voice. But you would humor him, he knew, because he never asked for much. 

“Just one,” he confirmed. 

You sighed, and Bradley knew you really didn’t want to, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You weren’t happy now, but his own excitement started vibrating under his skin, because he knew you would be. He couldn’t wait to see the look on your face. 

It was only another few minutes before he pulled into a neighborhood. He saw how you sat up a little straighter in your seat and how your brows pulled together out of the corner of his eye; you started to recognize your surroundings, taking them in. You didn’t say anything right away, but Bradley could practically feel the wheels in your head turning. You waited until he pulled into the driveway of a very familiar house before turning to him.

“What are we doing here?” 

The here in question was a house that could only be described as your dream home. It had almost everything your Pinterest Home Goals board could ever imagine, and maybe even a little bit extra, and you had fallen in love with it the moment you saw it during your house hunting more than a month ago. Your eyes had lit up in a way that Bradley had never seen before, only to be stamped out when the offer you had put in before you had even left the driveway was rejected the very next day. It had been hard, but you had simply smiled at him and said you would find another dream home, and that as long as you were with him, it didn’t matter. He knew you were being truthful, but he also knew that every home you looked at afterward simply didn’t compare. When he got the phone call from the realtor last week that it was back on the market after the original buyers had fallen through, he knew he had to move fast. With a little more cash down and a pre-approved loan for the rest, he had managed to sign all the paperwork and get the keys with you being none the wiser. 

Bradley turned the Bronco off and got out. You were still giving him that same confused, skeptical look when he rounded the vehicle to open your door for you like he always did. He couldn’t help but lean forward and place a kiss on the top of your scrunched up nose. 

“Come on,” he said, helping you down and closing the door once you were safely on the ground. “We should go inside.” 

“Bradley, there’s no one else here. And isn’t this house already sold?” 

You sound dumbfounded, and more than a little confused. You climbed the few steps to the closed front door, and Bradley couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. A smile took over his entire face and he dug around in his front pocket until he held his hand out. A shiny, silver key laid in his palm. 

“I..I don’t…what’s happening?” 

Instead of answering, he took the key and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open easily and he gestured for you to go in. You did so slowly, not taking your eyes off of him until you crossed the threshold. You gasped when you looked around. The large open concept living room and kitchen were bare, not a single rug or piece of furniture to be found as of yet. But on one of the walls right there in front of you, your favorite photo of the two of you hung, snug in its frame that had been sitting in your storage unit up until he had retrieved it earlier this morning. You stared at it in shock for a long moment. Bradley closed the front door and wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You turned to look at him, that same look of disbelief on your face, but your eyes were bright with love and awe.

“This is ours?” you asked quietly, like you were too scared of the answer. He nodded. “You bought this?” 

“We bought this,” he corrected, “but yes. We did.”  

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him for a long moment before squealing and launching yourself into his arms. The unexpected force of your body made him lose his footing and sent the both of you to the ground. He braced your fall with his body, but even then, he was laughing. 

“Bradley! This is our house!” 

“It is,” he agreed, looking up at you with the biggest smile on his face. You squealed again before leaning down to kiss him and he returned it eagerly. His hands settled on your butt, squeezing softly through the denim. 

“How did you pull this off without me knowing? You aren’t sneaky!” 

“I’m plenty sneaky when it means surprising the love of my life, thank you very much,” he remarked. You rolled your eyes but kissed him again nonetheless. 

“Our house,” you mumbled against his lips. He hummed in response, nodding. His cock twitched in his jeans. You always had a powerful effect on him, but combined with the way your body pressed against his, wiggling in excitement, and knowing that the happiness radiating off of you practically in waves was because of him, he was almost fully hard in a matter of moments. You could feel it, too. He knew by the way you ground down into him and tugged at his hair. You pulled away after a moment, rolling off of him and climbing to your feet.

He was about to push himself up as well but stopped when you tugged your shirt over your head. His jaw dropped as the material fluttered to the floor beside where he lay. You kicked off your shoes and worked on getting your jeans and panties off next. You returned to him as soon as you were left only in your bra, and you immediately set to work on undoing his belt and pulling his zipper down. 

“Don’t you want to look around?” he asked, even as he was finally getting with the program and raising his body just enough to quickly discard his own shirt. 

“No, I want to fuck you in our house. Right now. And I want you to tell me how you managed to do all of this.” 

He groaned in pleasure when you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers. “You can’t trick me into confessing my secrets. Oh, fuck, baby, god damn.” 

You had taken his length into your mouth with no preamble, sucking and licking him in the sloppy way that you knew he loved. The back of his head hit the hardwood floors as you hollow your cheeks. He cursed your name when you hummed around him. He threaded his fingers loosely through your hair. “Oh my god, you’re so good to me.” 

You didn’t work him with your mouth for too long, pulling off of him after only a minute or two, but he couldn’t bring himself to complain about it when you were climbing up his body and lining him up with your glistening wet pussy. You sank down slowly, and your matching groans echoed off the walls of the empty house. 

“You’ll tell me eventually,” you breathed, clenching around him as he bottomed out. You ran your hands over his chest, your nails scraping against his nipples as you went. His hips jerked up into you at the sensation and he knew you were right; despite what he said, your tricks always worked on him. 

He rolled the two of you so you were on your back below him. He thrusted in and out of you with long, hard strokes, you begging him for more the entire time in that desperate way you always did when his cock was buried inside of you. He wouldn’t be surprised if neither of you lasted long, but that was okay, because you had an entire house to christen.

“Welcome home, baby,” he grunted, slamming his hips into yours and reveling in the sounds you were making for him, echoing around him like music, “welcome home.” 

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Masterlist

Notes: In my head I was picturing the couple from the first TGM one shot I ever wrote, A Change to Everything. You don't have to read that to follow along with this, obviously, but check it out if you haven’t! 

Tag List (please let me know if you’d like to be removed or added!) :  @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun -@avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

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[therabbitthatpostthings]

I admittedly made Nanami a lot less mean than the original post intended. Idk, I just feel like he's better at hiding his emotions, the only person who truly riles him up is Gojo. I just can’t imagine him foaming at the mouth with jealousy in sorryyy

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*

“You never get this dressed up for me.” Gojo dramatically sighed

“And yet, you look extra put together today.” You gestured to his half button silk shirt.

“No need to be jealous, not all of us can look this amazing.” He smirked

You swallowed your come back and turned back to checking your reflection in the passenger window. You took solace that at least Gojo’s ‘extraness’ offset your outfit. Then again, who could outshine Gojo Satoru?

“All this ‘cause your two boyfriends are showing up?” He chuckled

“Nanami finally agrees to come out with us! Can’t I be a little excited!”

“A little.” Gojo scoffed to himself.

Nanami wasn’t having much luck either. Punctual as ever, Nanami stood outside the bar in an off white shirt and slacks, his jacket hung over his arm. Like Gojo, he switched his regular eyewear for tinted glasses. He was already regretting spending his day off like this but couldn’t bring himself to not come. Even after Shoko and Utahime canceled, something pulled him to this outing. Being stuck with you flirting and Gojo non-drunk-drunk ramblings wasn’t exactly an ideal situation but, he couldn’t shake the idea of you being alone and possibly vulnerable with Hasegawa. Something still bothered him about it all. Everything fell too nicely into place. Yaga was very tight lipped about Hasegawa’s sudden inclusion, Nanami was beginning to think that he wasn’t told all the details either. All Yaga would say is that Hasegawa would be working in Tokyo until he had a “suitable” place in Kyoto. He never specified just what kind of work he would need to be so close to both schools but Nanami had a hunch.

He brushed the thoughts away as he heard a familiar voice call out to him. Hasegawa hurried over, “Big city life really isn’t for me.” He wore a black and brown button up over a white shirt. The short sleeves and black pants showed just how skinny he was compared to Nanami and Gojo. With his hair tied back he looked younger. Very different from the disheveled man he was imagining. “Am I late?”

“No, (L/N) and Gojo should be here soon.” Nanami answered plainly

“Fashionably late, that’s (Y/N) for you. They always like this- oh right, you don’t come drinking much do you?” He laughed awkwardly.

“I couldn’t find the time until today so, I wouldn’t know what (L/N) is like.” Nanami replied

“Oh, I guess you two aren’t that close.”

“We’ve drifted apart over the years but I considered them a friend back in highschool. They were my upperclassmen.”

“Ah! No way! That makes me older than you!” He smiled.

His ability to switch attitudes at the drop of a hat was impressive. Nanami was already at a bar he didn’t want to be at and was wasting his day off. The last thing he wanted to do was play mind games with this strange man.

(L/N), just what is your relationship with him?

You and Gojo, mercifully, arrived and stopped the conversation that quickly turned one-sided. You thanked Ijichi and hesitantly stepped out of the car. It was strange seeing you dressed up and outside your normal attire. Not even on the joint missions You and Nanami used to go on were you ever this casually dressed.

“Hope we didn’t keep you two waiting,” Gojo grinned, watching Nanami hold his gaze on you.

“No, I just got here.” Hasegawa replied. He stepped forward towards you, “(Y/N), you never fail to amaze me.”

“At least buy me something before you sweet talk me.” You jokingly rolled your eyes. You turned back to Nanami, “Thank you for coming tonight.”

“It was no problem.” Nanami stated. You two stood there for a moment before Gojo broke the silence and led everyone inside. Not even a single drink down and he already knew this would be an entertaining night.

* ✧ *

It was such a shame that Utahime and Shoko couldn’t make it. Gojo desperately needed someone to witness the minefield he was watching unfold. He could call Mei Mei but it would cost him more than anything she would order. Alas, he had to be entertained all alone. Nanami, suddenly very invested in the stories You and Hasegawa had to tell about the life you lived before coming back to Tokyo. Hasegawa, not at all subtly flirting with you and challenging Nanami. And You, unaware of it all.

Just when he thought this would be another night of complaining about work, he’s treated to a show.

“Excuse me,” You finished your drink and left for the restroom. With you gone, Hasegawa turned to the two men.

“What was (Y/N) like back then, weren’t they your senior?” He smiled nonchalantly.

“(Y/N) hasn’t changed much since then, they’re still the same.” Gojo replied.

“Ah, so still loud and fun.”

Gojo smiled, like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Yeah, they used to go around telling everyone they would marry Nanami one day.”

Nanami took a hard swallow of his drink glaring daggers at Gojo. Gojo returned the favor, peering over the rim of his glasses.

Hasegawa laughed, “That’s funny, (Y/N) barely mentioned you at all. It was so long ago though, you shouldn’t take it to heart.”

His fist clenched around the glass, “Funny. I could say the same for you.”

Before he could respond, Hasegawa got a phone call and excused himself outside.

Gojo whistled once he was out of earshot, “You really know how to welcome a guy to town.”

“Gojo, I wouldn’t advise you to be so casual around someone you just met.”

“Aww are you worried about me.” Gojo teased. “Or worried about, someone else?”

Though Nanami didn’t show it, Gojo knew he struck a nerve.

He continued, “You know, if a stranger is going to be around my students, I’d want to know about it.”

“And what do you know?”

“He was stationed in America a year out from graduating, that’s it.” Gojo said in a serious voice .

“That’s all you know?”

“That’s all I’ve heard.” It bothered Gojo that everyone seemed to know except him. Especially when it came to his student. Of course the higher ups wouldn’t make it so easy. They could risk it. Gojo can’t. For now though, Hasegawa wasn’t a threat to anyone. Well…

“I will worry about Yuuji, I’m his teacher. You should worry about your competition.”

“Competition?” Nanami scoffed.

Gojo smirked. “Isn’t that why you don’t like Hasegawa, Nanamin?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“If you're worried about (Y/N) changing their mind,don’t be. They are still utterly in love with you!”

“Like that’s what I would care about right now.” He was annoyed but the blush on his face betrayed him.

“You deny it?” Gojo smirked.

“We have more pressing issues to worry about.” Nanami stated.

“Right, so Hasegawa can steal (Y/N) away and it won’t bother you? I guess that’s a way to get rid of him.”

Nanami rolled his eyes, “(L/N) can do whatever they want, it’s not my concern.”

“What’s not your concern?” You asked, appearing behind them. Nanami almost choked on his drink.

“About how you were so worried Nanami wouldn’t like your hair-”

“Gojo!” You whined.

“What? Nanamin already knows you love him! Why hide it?”

“I’m not hiding it. Not everyone needs to know.”

“Really? A couple years ago you would have been screaming it from the rooftop. Have your feelings changed so much?” Gojo jokingly gasped.

“My feelings never changed, I will always want Nanami but at least I’m less pushy about it now.” You huffed sitting down, “Nanami, I want you to think of me as a friend, okay?”

“Right..” that was all he could muster.

* ✧ *

The cool nighttime air hit your face as you and Nanami huddled out the bar first. You placed your phone back in your pocket after hanging up with Ijichi. You and Nanami had a higher tolerance but it still concerned you for him to drive home or ride the train alone. Nanami thanked you, of course.

“I sobered up because I knew Ryo would get hammered.” You assured him.

“You two must have gone out a lot.”

“Yeah, but that was years ago,” (Y/N) smiled. “I’m glad you came tonight Nanami. I hope we can still hang out like this.”

“Yeah. Of course.” For once Nanami didn’t know how to speak to you. The air around you had shifted and it felt like you two were on the same plane of existence, finally. The distance he was worried about before suddenly became shorter. He saw you differently. A part of him thought it was ridiculous, come Monday morning you’d be back to your aggressive flirting. Was that really a bad thing though?

Gojo and Hasegawa came hurdling out the door before he could think any further. “(Y/N)-chan!!!!” Hasegawa cheered. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shoulders, “Take me home with you!”

“You’re too old to be acting like this.” You laughed. “I should get him to bed. See you guys later.”

“Get home safe.” Nanami called out. For a moment he saw Hasegawa look back and smirk at him. He’s drunk…

Gojo cleared his throat, “Lighten up, like you’d lose to someone like him.”

“Gojo, please do not make assumptions about people.”

“Oh that is rich coming from you!”

[hislittlestar]

Obey Me

With the Obey Me games coming to an end (😭), I wanted to talk about them.

First off, OG Obey Me >>> Nightbringer. Nightbringer was much more money-hungry and the writing was more kid-friendly and just generally worse. Due to the events in the story, all character development that had happened in the original game was set-back completely and the brothers practically devolved into caricatures of their respective sins. There is one redeeming feature for me with Nightbringer, Time Chronicles, where you can read stories from the original game for free. I’d say it’s worth downloading Nightbringer solely for the Time Chronicles feature. It was a dream-feature for me after I had accidentally lost all my data in the original game when I switched to my current phone.

I started playing Obey Me in late 2020. It was my first introduction to otome games, but also my first peak into the world of demonology. It was also my first time seeing Lucifer portrayed as a character that wasn’t evil, along with the concept of Lucifer and Satan being separate beings. I think it ultimately helped me feel less intimidated to approach Lord Lucifer when he decided it was time for us to start working together.

As I progressed through Obey Me, I grew to love the characters and the world of the Devildom. There is so much potential with them and I hope Solmare really does continue do push out new projects. I’d love a full anime based on the main story of the games. I’d also absolutely looove an Obey Me game meant for adults. I wish Solmare would see the success of Love and Deepspace and realize how profitable the adult market is for otome games. I’ve tried What in Hell is Bad, but that game is objectively… well, bad. Any spiciness that was present in the original Obey Me game was gone in Nightbringer, which left me using Character.ai and reading fanfics (shoutout to you fanfic writers 🫡).

The more I played Obey Me, the more I fell for the game’s Lucifer character. Looking back, the fact that I was crushing on and reading smut about him with the real Lucifer unknowingly watching me is super embarrassing 💀.

I had a bit of a reality shifting phase and Obey Me was the main world I wanted to shift to. I now think Lord Lucifer was actually the one holding me back from successfully shifting due to my purpose being in this world, not that one (though I think it also would’ve been strange for me to be dating someone with the same name and a similar backstory as him).

The games’s Lucifer compared to the deity I interact with are quite different. Looks-wise, the only things they have in common are that they are both hot, well-built, and can have black wings at times. My Lucifer’s hair is more the color of Satan’s and eyes the color of Diavolo’s. As for personality, late-game (in the OG game) Lucifer’s personality isn’t too far off, though I’d say Diavolo’s is a little more similar at times.

I will always hold these characters near my heart and am really hoping to see more with the franchise beyond in-person events in Japan I can’t attend. A couple of years ago, I never ever would’ve imagined the kind of connection I have with the ACTUAL Lucifer. I find it funny that things have worked out this way for me.

[horny4hetfield]

Snow Way to Escape

I originally posted this a while ago, but I think I screwed it up. So, here's a re-write that has become the prologue to several other fics that are in the wings. I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings:  Angst, Sex Suggested

Why did I ever fall for this man?!  Is he talented?  Yes.  Is he good looking?  Damn yes.  Is he great in bed?  Fuck yes.  Is he being a dick?  All holy hells yes.  Has been since he got home from the road.  Am I regretting moving to his place in Colorado?  Right now.  Yes.  His last dig at me has me packing my carry on and putting my computer into my backpack while wiping away the tears I swore I wouldn’t shed.  I can walk away from everything I can’t fit into these two bags.  I looked over at the smart home device for the time.  It’s 3pm.  The notification bar was flashing yellow.  “Computer, what’s the notification?”  The robotic voice responds, “For the Vail Colorado area, the National Weather Service has issued the following weather warning.  A severe winter storm is forecast to begin snowing heavily at 2pm local time with heavy snow levels accumulating to 3 to 4 feet, drifting 6 to 8 feet.”  The rest of the warning went unheard as I grabbed my two bags, the note I’d written, and ran to the front door.  I dropped the bags on the floor, still clutching the note, as I saw my plans end.  Opening the front door I slowly walk outside into the dark, the snow had already been falling.  Big fat fluffy flakes so thick I could barely see the light at the end of the driveway.  Looking over to the garage door, “No, no no no, no!”  The drift was already a good 2 feet tall.  For a split second I thought about taking his damned truck.  It would easily clear that drift.

“What the hell are you doing?” James yelled from the open front door, looking between me and the bags on the floor.

Taking one last glance at the pile of snow blocking the garage door, I turn back to the house, “Well, I was going to leave you.”  I slapped my note into his chest.  Pushing past him, I collected my bags and slowly made my way back to the room that I had claimed as my own a week before.

“What the fuck!?” James yelled just before slamming the front door closed.

I kept walking dejectedly.  Making it back to the room, I tossed the backpack onto the bed and just stood there clutching the carry on.  I could hear James come storming down the stairs.  “What the fuck?  You are leaving me?”  I turned.  His usually glacier blue eyes now a threatening dark blue filled with rage.

“Well, mother nature said no” as I motioned to the now very dark window.  “Not tonight anyway.”

I heard the paper flutter to the floor.  “Why?”  The pain in his voice was natural, not forced.  It pinched my heart.

I turned to him but couldn’t look him in the eye.  “What was the one thing I asked of you when we started dating?”  He just stood there.  Then I did look at his face.  He was obviously thinking.  “I asked you to not compare me to the exes.”  He nodded slowly.  “I am not them and the exes are not me” I raged at him.  The rage fading from his eyes.  “But ever since you got home from the tour, you have been … well …”

“A dick” he finished my sentence.

“Yes” I snapped.  I put the carryon I was still holding on the bed.  “You have done nothing but compare me to them for months.”  I turned back to him, “The final straw was when you started counting your cash.”  His eyebrows knitted together.  “Every night before you go to bed, you count the cash in your pocket, put it in your wallet which you put on your nightstand.  Then in the morning after you shower and get dressed, you count it again.”  His fingers twitched as he processed what I said.  “I don’t need your money.”  He just looked at me.  “I have my own career and my own bank account.”  He continued to stare at me.  “I could have taken your damned $90 thousand dollar truck and left you the Shelby that I paid $125 thousand for.”  He cocked his head but didn’t ask.  I answered anyway.  “Taking your truck I would have gotten pulled over by your state trooper friends in a heartbeat.  That would be a felony.  And you would have no say if I got arrested or not.”  I turned away from him shaking slightly.  “Right now, you are not worth a felony on my record.”  I moved to the desk and sank into the chair.

He looked around the room.  The realization hit him, “When did your stuff get down here?”

I huffed a smile, “James, I moved down here a week ago.”  He looked at me.  “You didn’t notice that I wasn’t sleeping in your bed?”

His hands kinda flapped uselessly, “I thought you were coming to bed after me and getting up before…”

“Thanks for noticing” I said sorta like Eeyore.

His eyebrows knitted together again, “But the sheets got changed.”

“Yes they did” I just looked up at him.

“And the kitchen … the dishes … the laundry …”

“The grocery shopping, collecting the mail, dusting” I looked down at my hands. 

“Why?”

“Who else was gonna do it?” I dug back at him.  “It’s not like you’d do any of those things.”  He huffed a moment but didn’t say anything.  “I wanted to hire a cleaning team, but you went almost mental on me about that.”

“I don’t want someone just rummaging through my shit” he flared.

“I understand that” I tried to stay calm.  “But there are teams that specialize in people of your status.  Plus” I pointed to the monitors on the desk, “I have a job!  One that I enjoy!” my temper trying to flare.  I leaned my elbows on the desk rubbing my eyes. 

He was quiet for a minute.  “Look, this storm is going to blow for a couple of days” he said trying to stay calm.  “Let’s get some sleep.”  I just nodded.  He stepped backwards out of the room collecting the note from the floor, “We can talk in the morning.”  He softly closed the door.

I looked at the closed door.  His cologne lingered.  More than just his cologne.  Him.  The tears started to fall.  I let them.  Sniffling, I decided to take a soak in the tub.  Starting the water, I dumped in some salts from the cupboard, then sank into the hot water.  I mulled over the past 8 months.  The good, the bad.  More tears.  When the water turned cool, I got out, drained the tub and climbed into the bed.  The heat from the soak worked a charm and I was asleep in minutes.

I woke up still wrapped in the towel from the tub soak.  I slipped out of the bed, pulling on jammies and a robe.  I opened the bedroom door.  I could hear that James was in his studio.  It was a super crunchy riff floating through the house.  Smiling to myself, I went into the kitchen.  Pulling out what I needed to make a breakfast sandwich, I looked at the items on the counter.  It’s just as easy to make three as just one.  I left two on a plate in the fridge covered with a paper towel, with “Zap for 30 seconds” written on it.  I left another note on the counter, “Breakfast in fridge.”  Collecting my sandwich, a granola bar and a couple cans of Severed Lime from the fridge, I returned to my room.  Pulling my computer out of my backpack, I logged into work.

My chat window opened:

Boss:  You make the flight?

Me: No.  Got snowed in.

Boss:  You ok?

Me:  Meh

Boss:  Wanna talk?

Me:  Not right now.

Me:  I’m going Marinas Trench.  I need to get the last three chapters done.  They’re late.

Boss:  Understood.  Don’t worry about being late.  I’ll put in a good word for ya!

Me:  Thanks.

I clicked on the Out of Office option.  Then opened the files I needed from the New York servers and ate my sandwich waiting for the computers to synch.  Once done, I launched into where I’d left off.

I had no idea how long I’d been working until there was a soft knock on the door.  “Hey?” came James’ voice.

I turned to the door, “Yeah?”

“May I come in?”

Stretching, “Yeah.”

James came in and leaned against the wall.  “You sleep ok?”

Uncurling my legs from the chair, “Yes, thank you.”  Looking over at him.  “You?”

“Yeah, ok” he said.  He looked like shit.

I cocked a smile at him, “Liar.”

He huffed a laugh, “I don’t think I slept at all.”  He scrubbed his fingers through his silvered hair.  “Thanks for the breakfast sandwiches.”

I nodded, “You’re welcome.”  He kept trying to look at my computer monitors.  “What are you doing?”

“I guess I don’t know exactly what your job is.”

Patting the end of the bed, “Sit” I said.  He sat and leaned forward.  “I’m an editor.”  I rotated back to face the monitors.  “This screen is the book I’m working on” pointing to the monitor on the right.  “This screen” motioning to the one on my left, “are my notes.  The laptop in the middle just keeps me awake.”  I paused the cheesy disaster movie.

“Why the notes?” his curiosity was genuine.

“Well .. here” I pointed to a block of text highlighted on the right screen.  “The author has brought in a new character that has no backstory.  If this character was just in this paragraph it wouldn’t matter, but it shows up several more times.”  Pointing to the text on the left monitor with matching highlighting, “These are my notes back to the author asking about a backstory for this character.” 

James shifted to my left so see the screen.  “And how many notes does this author have from you?”

“On this book” I looked to the page count in the lower left corner of the window, “92.”

“Really?” he seemed shocked.

Stretching out my back, “Yeah, this guy tends to get lost in his own words.  So, I have to try to get him back out of the woods.”  I turned back towards James.  “You have never asked about my job before.  Why now?”

He sat back and looked at me.  “Because your note is correct.”  He rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs, “I haven’t taken any interest in you … outside of the bedroom.”

I heaved a sigh, “I probably should have edited my own writing.”

“No” his eyes popped up to my face.  “No.  You were right.  You were probably pissed as hell when you wrote that note.”  He ran his hands through his hair – which he did when he was nervous.  “But every word was true.  I have treated you like a whore.  I have compared you to the exes.  I have not discovered you … about you.”  His shoulders slumped some.  “I am sorry.”

That hit my heart.  Hard.  I rested my fingers on his knees.  “James.  I can accept your apology.”  His glacier blue eyes found mine.  “I can see that you mean it.”  Those gloriously blue pools now filled with doubt.  “But you will have to work on the forgiveness.”  I withdrew my fingers from his knees slowly.

Nodding, “I completely understand.”  His smile slightly lopsided.  “Will you please give me the chance to earn that forgiveness?”

I watched him a moment.  Then, smiling back at him, “Yes” I said softly.  His eyes brightened along with his smile as he stood.  “By the way” I looked up at him – damn but he’s tall.  “I really liked that crunch you had going this morning.  It sounded amazing!”

Incredibly, his eyes lit up even more, “You really liked that?”

“Yes” I smiled up at him.

“Thanks.”  He fidgeted.  “Uhmm, what would you like for dinner?”

“What time is it?” I asked looking at my computer screen.

“It’s like 3pm.  But since you made breakfast, I thought I’d make dinner.”

Nodding at him, “I will leave that to the chef.”

Nodding as he moved towards the door, “You like your steak …?”

Smiling at him, “Medium Rare.”  He closed the door with a grin.  My head was laughing Of course it would be steak!  My laptop pinged.

Boss:  Surface to Marianas Trench…. (I love my boss!)

Me:  evening.

Boss:  How’s it going?

Me:  Half way through last chapter.

Boss:  And the other thing…..?

Me:  Perhaps there is a chance here.

Boss:  ????

Me:  He just invited me to dinner.

Boss:  I thought it was snowing there still.

I took a picture out the window of the thickly falling snow and attached it to the chat.

Boss:  So?

Me:  He’s making me a steak.

Boss:  Ahh.  Well, then you need to go get ready!

Me:  Right after I finish this chapter.  Then I’m all caught up on this book.

Boss:  Fine. 

Boss:  Hope it goes well!

Me:  Thanks!

I finished the last chapter fairly quickly since it was not a complete chapter.  Saving both files to the servers and sending the links to the author – with the boss cc’d on that email – I closed down my computer.  Standing up and stretching, I moved to the bathroom.  I decided to take a shower and wash my hair.  If James was going to put in the effort to change, so could I.  No more being a slob.  I sat on the bed drying my hair when there was a tap on the door.  I popped up and grabbed the robe.  “Yes?”  No answer.  I opened the door.  There hanging on the light fixture in the hallway was a garment bag.  A postit note stuck to it.  Dinner at 6pm.   Smiling, I collected the bag and closed the door.  Laying the bag on the bed I opened it.  I only got about 6 inches open when I gasped.  Inside was a dark green velvet gown with beaded trim around the scoop neckline.  It was the dress I’d told him about.  I’d even made him watch the movie.  James had had it made.  He’d threatened to have it made for me to wear to the next awards show.  But I never thought he’d do it.  That was just a month or so after we’d started dating.  I looked at the clock.  5pm.  I had time.  I went back into the bathroom and did some tidying up.  Did my makeup and pinned up the hair.  I knew that he loved my long hair, but this gown … the hair had to be up.  Going back to the bed, I pulled the gown from the bag.  I slipped into it.  With the plunging back to just above my ass, I was completely commando beneath it.  I went to move the garment bag and it felt heavy.  Patting it down, I discovered a pair of heels.  They glittered with the same rhinestones as the trim.  Just as I slipped them on, there was a single tap at the door.  I opened the door.  The hallway was empty.  But there was a pink post it note on the floor.  Squatting down – if I’d bent over the gown would have slipped off me – I picked it up.  There was a doodle on it.  I couldn’t figure it out.  But looking up the hallway was another post it.  Another doodle.  As I walked to the stairs, there were more postit notes.  Each with a doodle.  I climbed the stairs and turned into the living room.  There stood James.  In his Brioni tux.  The sight took my breath.  Damn!  He looked good!  And he was holding another postit note, a crooked smile on his face.  He held it out to me.  The doodle on this one was a rose.

“Oh!”  I held out the ones I’d collected, “These are rose petals!”

Blushing, “Yeah, I couldn’t go get a real rose, so I improvised.”

I gently collected the one he held, “It’s lovely.”  I looked up into his eyes, “Thank you.”

James held out his hand to me – which I took – and he slowly spun me.  “I should have given this to you ages ago.”  He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it.  “You look stunning.”  I just blushed.  James tucked my hand into his elbow and gently led me down the hallway away from the kitchen and into the formal dining room.  He’d set the table.  There were candles on it and two place settings.  He pulled out the chair for me and scooched it in when I sat.  “The staff seems to have not reported to work this evening, so I will have to substitute” he said in a really bad French accent.  I giggled.  His eyes lit up.  “I shall return madam.”  I giggled even more.  James disappeared into the kitchen.  I put the pile of post it note petals on the table.  He returned with two plates.  Each bore a steak, a pile of green beans and a large slice of bread smothered in butter.  I smiled.  He was trying.  I cut into the steak and took a bite.

“How is it?” James asked.

Swallowing, “Perfection” I said.  He dug into his own.  I took a bite of the green beans.  A couple were still pretty frosty.  I didn’t say a word, but just smiled.  The bread was a garlic sourdough that I loved.  The butter was a bit much, but again, I wasn’t going to complain.  James had obviously put some thought into making dinner and I wasn’t going to ruin it.  I’d had worse meals. 

“The weather is forecasting that this snow will last another 48 hours or so” James said.

The weather.  A safe place to start.  “I haven’t listened to the weather or news today.”

“Did you get your book done?” James leaned towards me.

“I did.”

“How many do you edit?” his blue eyes clear and piercing.

“Uhm.  I have about 20 items in the wings to work on.”  I took a sip of the Squeezed to Death Orange in my glass.  He’d used champagne flutes for the sparkling water.

“Why so many?” James looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“Some are just articles.”  I put my fork down, “It all depends on release dates.  The one I worked on today is supposed to release after the New Year.  The others have release dates after that one.”

“It has nothing to do with whom the author is?”

Pushing my plate away and leaning on the table, “Sometimes.  All depends on the author and release dates.”  I looked at him.  He was genuinely interested.  “If it’s big wig author and the release date is close, then that file gets bumped to the top of the pile.”

“Who is the biggest author you have edited?”  His smile was slightly crooked.

“I don’t get the Mitchell’s or the King’s”  I grinned.

“Why not?”

“My boss says that I’m too brutal with my notes” I slow blinked him.

James sat up.  “Yeah, you can be.”  He used his napkin on his lips.  “But perhaps they need those brutal notes.”  He smiled at me.  “As a recipient, I can attest that it kicked my ass into changing how I think.”  He held out a hand to me.  I laid my fingers into it.  “And I thank you.”  I didn’t know what to say.  He simply laid his other hand over my fingers and smiled at me.  Then he popped up, “Dessert” he said collecting our plates.  I squirmed in my seat.  My thoughts ranging all over the place.  He had totally messed me up.  Again.  Just like he had when we’d met.  He returned with two small plates.  Piled creatively on each were four sandwich cookies held in place with cake frosting and topped with whipped cream.  He set them down with great flourish, “Tah dah!”

Trying my best to not snort out a laugh, “I’m sure that the patisserie chef labored all day to create these delicacies.”  James did snort out a laugh.  Which made me burst out in laughter.  I picked up one of the cookies and happily munched it.  James retook his seat and tucked into his plate.  “Seriously, these turned out pretty good” I said licking whipped cream from my fingers.

“The frosting isn’t too much?” James asked seriously.

“No.  It’s just the right amount” I said scooping the last bit up on my finger.

James grabbed my hand and gently sucked the frosting from my finger.  I didn’t retract my hand but did go a little stiff.  He kissed the back of my hand before pushing it back tenderly towards my body, smiling at me.  “I’m sorry” he said kindly.  “Just a little too soon.”

Looking down at my now empty dessert plate, “Maybe not” I said softly.  I knew he couldn’t see it, but my thighs squeezed together tightly.

“Perhaps I should escort the lady back to her room” he said looking down at his plate, “before I make a compete fool of myself.  Again.”  He smiled at me as he stood, offering me his hand.

I took his offered hand, collected the postit notes and stood.  He tenderly tucked my hand into his elbow and walked me back to the room I’d claimed as mine.  I turned at the door, “That was lovely James.”  I again slow blinked him, “Thank you.”  I wiggled his bow tie, then let my hand rest on his chest, “You look very handsome in this suit.”

He gently cupped my face and kissed my forehead.  “Thank you” he said softly.  His hands gently ran down my shoulders then arms to my hands, “I can’t wait to see you in this gown again.”  He lifted both my hands to his lips and kissed them.  “Good night.”  He took several steps backwards before turning.  I turned and opened the bedroom door.  I put the post it rose petals on the desk.  I kicked off the heels and then shrugged and let the gown slip off.  I stood there naked.  My desires wanted to race up to his room and let him have his way with me.  My integrity said no.  My curiosity wanted to know what James would do next.  Hanging the gown up, I decided another soak was in order.  I unpacked my waterproof vibrator on the way into the bathroom.

I was sound asleep.  I felt his hand on my shoulder, “Kira” he said softly.  He shook me slightly, “Kira, wake up.”  I opened my eyes to find James standing by the bed holding my robe.  “There’s something I want to show you.”  I fumbled out of the bed.  James helped me into the robe and then tucked me into his side, his left arm draping from my right shoulder down to my waist on the left side.  Wearing a huge coat and scarf, he guided me to the big sliding doors to the upper patio.  “Here, put these on.”  He guided my feet into a pair of fuzzy boots, then put on his own mukluks.  He opened the door and led me outside.  It was bitterly cold, trying to suck the air from my lungs.  James lifted the collar of the robe to cover my mouth, “Here this will help.”  It did make breathing easier.  I looked up and he had the scarf wrapped around his own mouth.  He opened his coat and his arms gently held my back close to his chest.  Then he pointed.  I followed his finger.

The clouds had parted and the sky was filled with stars.  The landscape was a blanket of white snow as far as I could see. The bitterly cold temperatures had crystalized the top of the snow.  The moon was rising.  It was reflecting on the frozen crystals making them glitter.  It looked like diamonds had been scattered over the ground.  “Here it comes!” he whispered excitedly into my ear, his breath warming my ear and neck.  I shivered.  My nipples hardened painfully.  Then the Aurora flared into life.  An undulating ribbon of greens, blues and purples danced into the sky.  I gasped.  The frozen snow below reflected the colors of the Aurora.  James wrapped his arms around me, one around my shoulders the other around my waist.  I leaned back into his warmth watching the magic of nature unfold in front of me.  I have no idea how long we stood there speechless at the beauty.  As quickly as it started, it ended.  “Wow” was all James said.

I leaned back into him, looking up at his chin, “Thank you for waking me.”  He hugged me tighter.  “That was stunning.”

His hands patted my body, “I am glad I shared it with you.”  He nodded towards the distant pass “And here comes the next round of snow.”  The clouds looked black and nasty in the now darkened sky since the Aurora had faded.

James kissed the top of my head.  “Now, you are shivering.  Let’s get back inside.”  He rotated us, his arms still wrapped around me.  We walked – a little awkwardly – back into the house, closing the big glass door behind him.  We both kicked off our boots.  He backed us into the sofa, pulling me down into his lap.  He reached over and pulled up a blanket.  He wrapped it around us.  I curled up into his arms shivering, my head resting on his chest.  His fingers gently stroked my hair.  Sleep reached up and grabbed me.

I woke up on the sofa with the blankets tucked in around me still wrapped up in my robe.  I could hear James in the kitchen.  I sat up.  “Morning sleepy head!” he chimed cheerily.  “Coffee?”  All I could do was nod.  He brought over my favorite mug filled with coffee.  I took a sip.  It was super sweet.  “Too much sugar?”  I nodded.  He went to pull the mug from my hands but I wouldn’t let it go. 

Instead I took a couple of huge slugs from it, “Now, just put more coffee into it and it will be fine.”  James went to the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot bringing it back to me.  He filled my mug.  I swirled the mug and took a drink.  Smiling, “Yum” I beamed.  I looked out the window.  More snow had fallen over night.  The sky was still filled with grey snow clouds, but not snowing.  At the moment.

James collected his mug and sank into the sofa with me.  He flipped on the TV and tuned in the local news.  There were the stories about roofs collapsing under the weight of the snow, power lines down, cars sliding off the roads – one accident ending in a death.  “I’m glad you were smart enough to not drive that night” James whispered to me.

“Me too.”

I looked into his eyes.  The passion I saw there made my knees weak.  I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his head, pulling him to me.  I kissed him gently.  His eyes widened.  He cupped my head and kissed me back just as tenderly.  “So how are we going to spend the next day or so?” I asked teasingly.

James tightened his arm around my waist pinning me to his body, “I can think of a way” he rubbed his hands on my hips, “or two.”  He gently pushed me back, “Only if you want to.” 

I could tell that although his voice was joking, his eyes said that he’d changed.  I was no longer just a fuck buddy.  I was a woman that he wanted to spend time with.  In more ways than one.

“I’d like that” I purred.  “Just remember, you are still working on my forgiveness.”

He showered kisses all over my face, slowly pulling me towards his bedroom, “I know a way to start working on that” he growls softly at me. 

I just smiled and willingly let him lead me.

[kutner-elegist]

this will be kutner related bc i love my idiot indian man. make him make thirteen eat spicy food. she dies. kutner doesn't even have a particularly high spice tolerance thirteen is simply white

apologies for not following your request exactly but lest we forget Kutner was raised by white parents eating white people food and to me Kutner is likely Gujarati and/or Punjabi gleaning from his late parents' names and also the fact that Kal Penn is Gujarati and those regions have less spicy foods compared to southern India and also Thirteen seems like she can take some spice (for a white person) so this is gonna be a bet (Hot Ones style if you've ever seen them) that comes close but Kutner wins only because he is more committed to the bit and masochistic than Thirteen (the end part got sad just so you know)

Kutner and Thirteen sat across from each other, both their countenances intense. They each had ten pieces of buffalo wings neatly lined up before them, with cold bottles of beer on the side for palate cleansing. In the center were ten different bottles of hot sauce. Quiet severity emanated from their staring match.

House towered over them at the head of the table. Foreman, Taub, Wilson and Cuddy were on the opposite side.

Foreman broke the silence. “What exactly are they doing again?”

Taub tilted his head, his eyebrows still raised. “They’re playing chicken with … chicken wings, I guess.”

“Hot wings,” Kutner emphasized.

“Kutner is Kutner, but why are you doing this?” Foreman said to Thirteen.

“He thinks I can’t handle spice because I’m white.”

“Why do you care—”

“Ask questions later,” House cut him off. “The game is on. Ante omnia, we must ensure that they haven’t used any performance enhancing drugs. Their blood was screened for painkillers, and Wilson watched them until the results came back all negative. If they used local anesthetics that might be undetectable such as Cetacaine, its effects should have worn off by now, but we still need to make sure.”

“You let them do blood tests for this?” Foreman asked Cuddy.

“They paid for it.” Cuddy shrugged.

“Shush.” House scolded Foreman. He then commanded, “Kutner, say ‘Imagine an imaginary menagerie manager managing an imaginary menagerie.’”

“Imagine an imaginary menagerie manager managing an imaginary menagerie,” Kutner obliged effortlessly.

“Now Thirteen.”

“Imagine an imaginary menagerie manager managing an imaginary menagerie,” Thirteen glided through the tongue twister as well.

House held up one of the hot sauce bottles, the label facing the spectators. “We shall begin with Cholula Original, around 1000 in the Scoville scale. On your mark, get set, eat!”

They bit into their chicken wings. In the blink of an eye, they were both holding defleshed bones.

“This isn’t even spicy.” Kutner put down the bone.

“It’s regular stuff,” Thirteen agreed.

They raised their beers, clinked their bottles together and took a small sip.

“Next up, Valentina Black Label, 2100 SHU. On your mark, get set, eat.”

They quickly ate them up again, and licked the sauce off their fingers.

“This is nothing,” said Kutner.

“Nothing,” Thirteen repeated.

Again, they had a sip of beer just to cleanse the palate.

“Third, Tapatío, 3000 SHU. On your mark, get set, eat.”

“It’s alright,” said Kutner.

“Uh-huh,” said Thirteen.

Thirteen drank a little more beer than Kutner.

“Tapatío is hot,” said Taub. 

“To you.” Kutner looked at Taub with his smug grin.

“Quaker Steak Buckeye BBQ, 5000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

Kutner devoured it quickly. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Thirteen took a little longer, but finished it soon enough. She held her sip of beer a little bit before swallowing it.

“Tabasco Habanero, 7000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

“Ooh, it’s starting to hit,” said Kutner.

Thirteen’s pale skin was flushed, but she remained composed. They both had a gulp of beer.

“We are only halfway there. The sixth is Crazy Jerry’s Brain Damage, 11,000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

“Why are you eating something called Brain Damage?” Foreman stepped forward. “It will certainly hurt your GI system.”

“Only a little, and temporarily at that. These are all FDA approved for retail,” said House.

Neither Kutner nor Thirteen responded to Foreman. They managed to finish the wings, but not as easily. Kutner silently drank his beer. Thirteen fanned her face with her other hand while she drank hers.

“You can stop anytime you want, you know,” said Kutner.

“You wish,” Thirteen retorted, but she was a little out of breath.

“Dragon Repellant Knightmare, 15,000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

Thirteen hesitated before biting in. Kutner gobbled it up, as if he wanted to get it over with as fast as possible. They emptied their beers, and House replaced the empty bottles with new ones. Thirteen fanned her face with both of her hands. The redness spread to her neck. Kutner was getting flushed as well, just not as noticeable on his deeper complexion.

“They’re FDA approved for a little dip, not whole chicken wings covered in them.” Foreman approached Thirteen. “Remy.”

Thirteen dismissed Forman with the wave of her hand. “I can take it, okay?”

Foreman turned to the rest of the spectators. “This is stupid!”

“Which is why it’s funny,” said Taub.

Wilson nodded in agreement.

“Why are you allowing your employees to endanger their health?” Foreman asked Cuddy.

“They’ll do it even if I tell them not to, and I’d rather be present in case damage control is needed.”

“Foreman is trying to dissuade Thirteen, which is only going to motivate her more. He’s interfering with the competition by giving unfair advantage to one side,” said Kutner.

“Yes. Foreman, shut up. Taub, say something discouraging to Kutner to make it even,” said House.

“I don’t think the guy who willingly electrocuted himself can be discouraged from anything,” said Taub.

“True, and that statement would have the desired effect, so good enough. Blair’s Jalapeño Death, 20,000. On your mark, get set, eat.”

“Whoa.” Kutner recoiled after eating it, breathing rapidly. He chugged the cold beer. He took off his hoodie.

Thirteen coughed. She tried to drink beer to cool down, but ended up choking on it a little. Foreman leapt toward her. House barred him with his cane. “No entering the ring if you’re not playing.”

“You know what,” said Thirteen, coughing and breathing heavily. “You win, Kutner. I give up.”

“Technically, he has to complete the next round to win. Otherwise, it’s a tie.” House looked at Kutner.

Kutner’s face was distorted with agony, but he muttered, “Bring it on.”

“Very well. Blair’s Original Death, 30,000. Whenever you’re ready.”

Kutner took some time to regain his composure, and ate the ninth chicken wing. He immediately washed it down with the rest of his beer.

“We have a winner!” House exclaimed.

Wilson and Taub clapped and cheered. Cuddy rolled her eyes. Thirteen finally calmed down from her coughing fit and she kept drinking the beer. Kutne, however, remained seated. His eyes were fixed on the last remaining wing on the plate.

“Come on, you won. It’s over.” Taub tapped Kutner on the shoulder.

Kutner reached for the last hot wing. Everyone felt their own bodies growing tense as he painfully finished it off. House handed him another beer, and he chugged it down. He panted, and his skin glistened with sweat.

“You’re insane!” Thirteen yelled.

“That one was called Pain 100%, 40,000. This proves my hypothesis that you are a masochist.”

“I’m not a masochist!” Kutner protested between gasps.

House leaned over toward Kutner. “You already won. You didn’t have to touch that last one. You love to gloat, but right now you’re in too much pain to do that. You want pain more than you want victory.” House stepped away from the table and walked over to Wilson.

“This wasn’t as entertaining as I thought it would be,” Wilson said to House.

“We didn’t do it for your entertainment,” said Kutner. He was still recovering from Pain 100%.

“What did you do it for?” Taub asked.

“It’s not a dare if there’s a purpose,” Kutner replied.

“So you did it for nothing.”

“Pretty much.”

Taub sighed. “Have fun digesting all that. I’ll see you tomorrow, unless you need a sick day.” He walked out.

“At least this is over,” Cuddy grumbled before she left.

House and Wilson left as well. Kutner and Thirteen cleaned up the table. Foreman stayed behind to help.

“It’s still pretty impressive that you lasted as far as you did.” Kutner’s gloating smirk was back.

Thirteen laughed. “My insides are already burning.”

“I’ll finish cleaning up. You go get some rest. Drink water,” said Foreman. His eyes followed Thirteen through the window until she was out of sight. Then, he hissed, “Why did you put her up to this?”

“House and I ironed out the details, but having a match was her idea.” Kutner shrugged, his eyes wide open.

“You provoked her first.”

“I didn’t mean to provoke her, okay? It was an off-handed joke.”

“You should have said no when she wanted to do a match! You know she has—”

Foreman stopped mid-sentence because Kutner stepped closer, almost getting in his face. “She has a fatal neuromuscular degenerative disease. You think you know where it goes because you’re a neurologist, but you don’t. Neurologists just refer them to rehabilitation and follow up every now and then. You don’t even do that, because you work for House now. You confirm a diagnosis and your work is done. I did my residency in rehabilitation medicine. I’ve seen where it goes, many times over. Lifestyle changes are helpful, but it doesn’t change the destination or the course. It hardly even delays the inevitable. If she wants spicy chicken wings, she’ll have the goddamn spicy chicken wings. I’ll do whatever she asks to make her day exciting. I care about her. Maybe not in the way that you do, but I do. I won’t apologize for her decisions to you.” Kutner stormed out of the room.

Foreman continued to wipe the already-clean surface of the table.

[f0rlorn]

hi! i literally love your treech fics so much! do you think you could write a treech x mentor!reader where she goes to see him at the zoo the night before the games (a bit like coryo and lucy gray)?

kiss of life → treech

treech!tbosas x reader

notes → in which love and life are fleeting as you say your final goodbye to treech. (i stole dialogue directly from the book for this LOL)

warnings → not edited & uploaded via iphone.

     “treech?” you whispered out into the dark. faint hints of moonlight peeked in through the clouds, becoming the only source of illumination in the pitch black of the night. falteringly, you crept closer to the bars of the monkey house, eyes scanning for a sight of your tribute you had grown rather fond of.

     “y/n,” he answered, and you followed the sound of his voice, which had turned far more gravelly since the last time he had spoken to you. once you had located him, you scampered over to the boy, eyes lighting up.

     “thank goodness you’re okay,” you cried, placing a hand to his face. you hadn’t gotten to see him after the explosion in the arena, and you wanted to make sure that he was alright. “gosh, i can’t believe they’re still making you go in there tomorrow!” tense, heavy air settled between the two of you.

     “i’ll be alright. me and the pack got a plan,” he reassured you as your fingers snuck into his hair, which had become rather matted since his arrival in the capitol.

     “just… don’t trust them too much. keep a good distance, please. i have a feeling they’re just going to use you.” you cautioned him, voice unsteadied by worry. the pair from four scared you the most. they had fierce determination in levels you had never witnessed before. while it was admirable, it was rightfully daunting.

     “thank you. for what you’ve done for me. i really have a chance now, ‘cause of you.” although his expression was blank, you could see in his eyes that he meant what he had said. pangs of guilt struck you, as you felt there was so much more you could have done for him. nonetheless, a tender smile made its way across your face.

     “it’s my job. i can’t let you die in there, you mean too much to me.. not just as my tribute, but you. you matter to me. you’re the most incredible boy i’ve ever met.” you confessed, eyes beginning to brim with salty tears, devastated that you would have to part with him when the night came to an end.

     “don’t cry over me, y/n. especially because i’m going to win. for you.” treech promised with certainty. the immense wholeheartedness of his tone brought you an ounce of optimism, and you couldn’t help but add on.

     “i’ll be there in the arena with you. we’ll win together. and once you’re announced victor and i get the plinth prize, i can buy you and your family a way into the capitol,” you suggested. a rather farfetched idea, but desperation and maybe even love had clouded your vision and infiltrated your thoughts. you shouldn’t allow your fantasies to get the best of you, but they all seemed too real as treech became an honest contender to win the tenth annual hunger games. he humored your idea, even though it may not have been possible, as he reached for your hand, squeezing it firmly. his calloused palm, having seen years of labor and hardships, juxtaposed against your softer one. the feeling truly highlighted the difference in your upbringing compared to his own. never had your living conditions led you to have to get a job, or even consider it. you couldn’t imagine having to do so for years in order to make ends meet. it hurt you that treech was not able to make the most of his childhood.

     you and treech had come a long way since the first time you had met him at the zoo. two weeks may not have been that long of a time, but it seemed like an eternity to the two of you, as each day you grew closer to the boy. he seemed to warm up to you more and more with each gift and lingering touch you had left him. originally, treech was quite cautious of you. he didn’t think he could trust you, knowing you were capitol, supposedly endorsing the very systems that wanted to kill him, while still claiming to want to help him. but over the course of the twelve days treech had spent in the capitol, more vulnerable than ever, he realized that not every citizen there had as much ill intent as he once believed, or at least, you didn’t. you too discovered that the district people were not at all like the animals your family made them out to be. they were humans, like yourself. of course, you had been wary when your parents made claims of the district people drinking blood and turning to means of savagery, but it had always lingered in the back of your mind. that was, until you met your tribute. the boy like quality of his aura diminished any doubt you had left of the children being bestial, replaced by guilt that you had ever felt that way in the first place.

     as his hands entwined with yours, you managed to slip your silver bracelet onto his wrist, something you had been waiting for the perfect time to do. treech looked at you with confusion. “it’s my good luck charm,” you explained, as he inspected the jewelry. “it may just be like a placebo effect or something, but it helps me feel better. i want you to have it. as a loan. you can return it to me once you win the games.” you claimed, ever so confident of your statement.

     “you’re all i’m going to think about in there.” treech admitted. in that moment, your temptations overcame you, and you gave into the desire to kiss the boy. sure, it was rather uncomfortable for the both of you, necks strained as you both tried to reach the other through the bars, but none of that mattered the moment his lips met yours. the feeling alone sent sparks through your body. you felt reenergized, now more than ever as his kiss breathed new purpose into you. when he pulled away, you were left hungry for more.

     “we can pick this back up after the games,” treech promised you, giving you one last knowing glance before the two of you parted ways. the games would commence, but underneath all of your anxiousness, a flicker of hope had sparked.

[caitchercatlady]

Ranking Anime I Watched in 2024

The Apothecary Diaries (Fall 2023, Winter)

Where’s the Replay button?; Jinshi is boy wife material; I love him! Maomao is also beast FL I’ve ever seen. Her sarcasm and sudden happy moments make me laugh every episode. I think we finally found a mainstream anime that is actually worth the name of anime of the year. Characters are actual characters instead of tropes or stereotypes. The stories are unique to themselves. The animation is beautiful. What more could you ask for? I also watched this anime under the English dub, and it’s actually pretty damn good. Whoever voices Maomao was destined to be that character. Furthermore, the animation itself is straight up gorgeous! Studios OLM and TOHO animation really did a number on this one, especially in the last episode. They announced a season 2 and I’m stoked for it.

Dungeon Meshi (Winter)

Where's the Replay Button?; I originally had no interested in watching this show at the time, but then the English dub came out and I found out that Damien Haas voiced one of the main characters, so I changed my mind super quickly. Hell, when I found this out, I even surprised my boyfriend with the revelation. As far as the show itself is concerned, I think this is the best anime of the year, and I can’t believe it was released so early. While we’ve been returning to the traditional fantasy settings without the help of reincarnation or isekai, we’ve also been blessed with a hilarious and dramatic show involving cooking monster meat. I never thought I would be interested in a show like t his, but all of the characters and the plot are so intriguing.

A Sign of Affection (Winter)

They Got the Bag; I’ve seen a lot of comments about Yuki being infantilized for her disability, and when I see those comments from both the anime and manga pages, I thought people meant Itsuomi was the one doing that, but that turned out not to be true at all. In fact, Itsuomi is the dreamiest ML in any shojo romance I’ve ever seen. He does everything to make sure that Yuki was both seen and heard throughout the entire show. You know, like normal human beings? The only person who seems to infantilize Yuki is that son of a bitch childhood friend of hers, Oushi. He wasn’t written great in the manga either, and the anime seems to continue the tradition. I think what the series is trying to do is show the audience that Oushi is a tsundere who secretly has a crush on Yuki, but all it does is show the audience that Oushi feels that Yuki being deaf is a burden to everyone rather than just a condition she has, which Itsuomi does the complete opposite of. So for people who still think that this series is disability bait, actually look into this and think again.

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (Winter)

Good For What it Was; I watched the drama before jumping into the anime adaptation. Perhaps it has to do with the timing and how many episodes because this anime is way more funny and better paced than the drama was. The only thing going against it is how not great the animation is. I mean, it was a BL, so I wasn’t expecting much, but in more recent years, BL anime have been better animated as if they were mainstream series. After doing quick research, I found out this series was animated by Satelight. You might be familiar with their previous works: Shuga Chara, Macross, partially worked on Fairy Tail, Log Horizon, Nanbaka, and the AKB48 anime series. The majority of the series this studio worked on are unknown or they didn’t do so well in gainly public praise, so maybe I should’ve seen that coming. However, if you look past the animation, the show is actually very heartwarming. Adachi and Kurosawa are adorable together. So were the side couple Wataya and Tsuge. If I had to compare this anime to the live drama, the side couple were a lot more appealing in the anime because they had more chemistry expressed, and I highly appreciated that. THAT ENDING THOUGH! I ACTUALLY CRIED!

Nijiyon Animation Season 2 (Spring)

Good for What it Was; Still just your typical mini series to the main Nijigasaki girls. Nothing special, but the fluff was fun.

I’m Home, Welcome Home (Spring)

Where’s the Replay Button?; This is the first time that anime has tackled an Omegaverse manga story. If you don’t know what Omegaverse is, it’s way too much to explain it here, but I will tell you that this is the most wholesome of the Omegaverse stories you’ll ever find in the entirety of Japanese manga. I’ve been wondering when I’m gonna find the cutest anime of the year, and Tadaima, Okaeri is it. For some reason, I was surprised that this anime was made by Studio Deen, but at the same time, I should not have been because this is the same studio responsible for Sasaki and Miyano, one of my favorite BL series of all time.

I’ll Become a Villainess Who Goes Down in History (Fall)

Wanted to like but it has eh?; This is my very first villainess isekai series, so perhaps I should treat this as a villainess isekai for beginners type of series. It doesn’t specify much about the main character’s life before becoming Alicia, but it pretty much describes the world of the game the MC played prior to being isekaied into the world. While the setup is how you expect the game’s story to go and how Alicia will change up some things, we also start realizing that the game is not following the script not only due to Alicia’s decisions, but because everything is not exactly what it seems in the game. This story had a lot of good elements that could’ve worked in the story, but I think Alicia’s two plots in taking Liz down and helping out this poverty-stricken village don’t seem to mix much at all. Perhaps I’m missing something because this show is based off of a series of ongoing light novels, and this is supposed to be the season one of the whole thing, but even with that being the case, I feel that some characters, especially those who are supposed to be the meat of the plot, are not crafted well, and it’s very hard to tell what Alicia actually wants to do and who she wants to be. I know in game logic, the character of Alicia is supposed to be stubborn, passive aggressive, and confident beyond belief, and there’s only a few moments in which we see the MC actually falter at times. We don’t really see what MC’s end game is supposed to be. Like why is she doing this after being isekaied into the game? Yeah, she wants to be the best villainess in the world, but what exactly does that mean? Again, maybe that’s the point as the source material is still going, but I would like to know more than just that. As a first season, it definitely solidified that I wouldn’t watch the next one if it ever comes around.

Acro Trip (Fall)

Good For What It Was; This series had all the amount of cornball that I needed out of a magical girl parody. I don’t think it’s the perfect parody of the genre, but it was enough its own story to keep me invested in Chizuku, Chroma, and Berry’s character arcs. Chroma is MegaMind levels of hilarious, and I love him so much. I feel that with more episodes that this show could’ve been expanded more, but considering how long it took for even the show to get made in the first place (I think this thing was announced back in 2022!), this was probably the best we were going to get. I found out before posting that this was Studio Voil’s very first series, so it kinda makes sense why it took so long to make. Animation quality is pretty good for a first show though. The first episode did indeed get me invested, and the show kept me invested.

Love Live Superstar Season 3 (Fall)

Where's the Reply Button?; I don’t know what the producers took but the music for this season is a vast improvement compared to season 2. It makes me feel like I’m reliving season 1 all over again. The member plot points feel more fleshed out now than they did last season. The biggest improvement was Natsumi, who we finally get her reasons for why she acts the way she does now that her sister, Tomari, is in the picture. Also, thank you show for writing Keke less like a dick. All of us at the Love Live fandom appreciate that. Shiki is still best girl. The songs are at their peak this season, which is a massive improvement from Season 2, thank the lord.

[xypheris]

Reader → Writer → Reader-Who-Writes: The Evolution of Your Soul (and sanity)

When you're just a reader:

Books are magic, reading them your favorite part of the day.

You demand:

Flaws in characters (because perfect is boring).

Angst (because why read if your heart doesn’t shatter?).

Villains with original motivations (What hurt you, bestie? ).

Slow burn romances (It’s been 300 pages; when will they kiss?).

Character development arcs that make you believe people can change (even if you, personally, never get your life together).

But you’re blissfully ignorant about pacing structures, how chapters are crafted to leave you on a hook, and whether this author stayed up till 3 a.m. crying over word choice.

When you become a writer:

You pick up your pen (or keyboard) and say, I’m gonna write the book of my dreams. And you do! You Frankenstein together

Every lesson you’ve learned from ALL the books you’ve ever read.

You learn that writing isn’t just about having good ideas. It’s about technical precision. Now you’re suddenly obsessed with:

How to “show, not tell” without overwriting.

Making sure every scene does something—advances the plot, develops characters, or builds tension (or else, out it goes).

Dialogue tags. Is “said” too boring? Is “hissed” too dramatic?

The three-act structure. Is your Act 2 sagging under its own weight?

Planting foreshadowing so subtle you’re practically cackling, “They’ll never see this coming.”

Finding unique metaphors that aren’t “her eyes were like stars” but also aren’t so weird they confuse people.

Suddenly, it’s not just about creating a story—it’s about engineering one.

When you’re a reader AND a writer:

Congrats, you’ve ruined yourself. You’re now incapable of just enjoying a book because:

You're side-eyeing every exposition dump like, “Did they really have to say that here?”

You’re noticing foreshadowing five chapters before the Big Reveal and muttering, “Ah, clever, but not subtle enough.”

You analyze dialogue for subtext and wonder if the author got lazy on this one line.

You obsess over pacing: “Was the subplot resolved too soon? Did this conflict arc lose momentum?”

You spend five minutes dissecting how a metaphor hit just right and then cry over the brilliance.

The opening line? You scrutinize it. Did it hook you? Was it memorable? How many versions did the author rewrite before settling on it?

You compare POV choices: “This story wouldn’t work in third person omniscient, but I bet it would’ve slapped in first person present.”

Adverbs. You’re counting every single one, and instead of enjoying the action scene, you’re like, “Hmm, a bit too many ‘quickly’s in here, don’t you think?”

Reading for fun? Gone. Now you read like you’re studying for finals. Every book is a masterclass, whether it’s good or bad.

What’s left of your soul:

You love books more than ever but now from a different perspective. You can’t unsee the machinery of storytelling. You read with equal parts awe and despair, thinking, “Wow, this is genius. I’ll never be this good,” and ��Oh god, this is terrible, but I get why they made these choices.”

Being a writer has fundamentally altered your relationship with stories. And yet… you still crack open books because no matter how you read them, you love them—flaws, angst, and all.

[strixamans]

Sune in Furs

(an original poem by Astarion)

The other evening, while we were out walking, you spotted a pair of boots you liked in the window of a shop, so we went in for you to trythem.

A beautiful leather, glossy black, up to your knees. Perfectly constructed. I said you had to have them; you insisted they were too expensive.

But I saw how your eyes lit up, and you know I won’t take “too expensive” for an answer, darling. I do have my ways.

You didn’t even pretend to be angry with me when I brought them to you— quite the opposite, in fact. I hope you don’t expect for me to change.

I can’t help myself, besides. You may not lust after fine things the way I do, but when there is something you desire, you must have it. I insist. It may be my calling, to indulge your secret vanity, and there’s nothing so chic as a wild beauty like you in fine clothing. No fashionable lady, no courtesan can compare.

But I do love the way you look in almost anything.

I love the way you look in your armor, leather or spider silk; the strong silhouette of your shoulders, or the jagged flash of infernal metalwork over your breasts, like iron petals. A fearsome thing, you are, in all your armor.

I love the way you look in all your other leather, too, in all the softer, supple stuff that melts to every contour of you, each perfect contour of your body, in my hands. And I love the scent of leather on you, darling.

I love you in a fine silk, too, of course; the way it drapes over your breasts, over your hips. Silk so inviting of my eyes, and of my hands.

And I love the way you look in an easy linen shirt, when you’re out frolicking barefoot, in the wild.

I love it when you let me dress you, almost as much as I love undressing you. Perhaps just as much. I love it when you let me pick out something for you to wear, when you let me put it on your body with my own hands; let me admire you, and fuss with your hair.

And I love it when you wear the fur coat that I made for you, more than anything— Gods, how I love it. You have no idea. Or perhaps you do. I think you might.

Last night was a fantasy, nothing less.

We were finally going to visit the temple of Sune, and decided to make an occasion of it. You woke up in the late afternoon. You drank your coffee while we took a bath together. Then we almost made love—I said I would be quick, but you said I had to wait, since you were clean.

You did let me dress you, though. So I dressed you in pale blue silk, fit for Sune. A little dress of Amn, cut above the knee in the front, wrapping around your breasts and over your shoulders to tie in the back. Rather sheer, too—I thank the gods everyday that you’re not modest.

It’s been warm, every night that we’ve been here. But last night, with winter approaching, it was just a little cooler. Just enough.

You feigned a shiver and gave me a smile. Didn’t have to tell me twice— I went to fetch your fur coat, while you held your arms out, and I wrapped you up in all my love to warm you. Then, I stood back to look at you.

In furs, you are something divine. A sacred animal. You stood before me, so elegant and terrifying; regal, like you were queen of all the animals.

The vision of you there, in all your fur, and silk, and leather— you can’t possibly understand, what it did to me. Or perhaps you do. I think you must.

I was helpless before you. I had to touch you, to know that you were real— so I begged, and you let me come up close.

You let me wrap my arms around your waist, beneath the fur. You let me run a hand down your bare flesh, beneath the silk. You let me bring my lips to kiss your neck, beneath your hair, and I was lost there to the scent of all your blood, beneath your skin.

I wanted to sink my teeth into you so badly, right then; get even closer, ever closer, taste you as a wild god and feel everything inside you, inside me.

But you said I had to wait, and so I did. I put on my best jacket and we went out at dusk, to the temple of Sune.

Your beauty is all your own; it doesn’t belong to me. But I can’t help but feel that swelling of pride when we walk through the streets, side by side.

I love the way that people look at you, and look at me, all awe and envy.

I love to touch you in public, too, to put my arm around your back, let my hand fall a little lower— pull you in close, give you a kiss, and feel you smile.

So that’s just what I did, at the gates of the temple. Blame the goddess herself for my ardor.

We strolled through the gardens, at the temple of Sune; lovely, although you found them over-manicured. I might have argued with you in the past, but I have found I’ve come around to all your tastes for wild things.

There were calm pools, too, and gentle fountains, their waters clear and shimmering, each one softly aglow with enchanted light. Lovely, although my own eyes preferred the tempests found in yours.

And there were women everywhere, at the temple of Sune. Sculptures of women, partially dressed or undressed, in white marble; gracefully posed, for all of time. Priestesses, too, in pale silk, like you. Lovely things, but not one had your fur coat.

Not one—no other woman of flesh or stone, no man, no god has the audacious grace of your body, the feral elegance of your eyes, like twin storms, your perfectly unkempt hair, or the ferocity of your blood, coursing hot as your heart beats beats beats; all wrapped up, inside the fur coat that I made for you.

And so, lovely as it was, I couldn’t wait to leave the temple of Sune and return to this room here, that we share.

We walked back through the streets, while your heart beat beat beat, and I listened, and I waited, and I stared.

When we got in, you sat in the little chair by the door. You were going to take your boots off but I told you not to just yet, and I knelt at your feet to clean the streets from them, instead.

I was fascinated by the place where the leather met your skin, so I let my fingertips rest there, then my lips, at that juncture; against the muscle of your calf, your flesh so warm, beneath the leather. And then you got up and stood before me again, in your silk, and your leather, and your fur.

My goddess of wild love, wild beauty; there can be no act of worship to befit you, to suffice. But all the same, I knew I had to try.

You let me come up close again, and I touched you, beneath the fur. I felt silk, beneath my hands; silk with nothing underneath it, only you.

I found myself on my knees again, lips pleading to your thighs, soft and strong; growing warmer as my lips moved even higher. Higher and higher, all the way to your wet heavens.

The way you are a storm, my love; never deprive me of the bounty of your rains.

I pushed you back and back until your body came to rest upon this desk, while I crawled after you like an animal. Crawling, like an animal, to devour you.

Your voice, my love, the maddening sound of it, each gusting outburst of your landfall made upon me; how I swell again, just thinking of it now.

The downpour of your love, my love, to my lips, your maddening cloudburst; how it sates my thirst and drives me wild with hunger.

And so, last night, after that sweet act of worship we both love so well, I stood up to undress before you, feverish.

Then I felt leather on my skin, as you wrapped your legs around me, as I wrapped my arms around you, under your furs, as I felt your breasts pressing to my chest, and I pushed up all the pale silk of your dress.

You let me set myself upon you ravenously.

You let me taste you as a wild god, your blood; let me fill myself with you, while I loved you, and I loved you, and you screamed.

And once I’d filled you up with all my wild love, and you were slick from loving everywhere, I knelt again to take your boots off; stood again to slip your coat off, and I hung it on the back of this chair, here, where I sit now. And then I picked you up and carried you off to bed.

But as we lay there, and you kissed me, and you smiled, and you touched me, I found suddenly, I had more love to give.

So give I did. And then, I held you until you fell asleep, earlier than usual—it was still dark outside.

It must be exhausting, being so beautiful. Or perhaps I just tired you out, loving you so much. In any case, once you were asleep, I got up to write of your beauty at this desk that smells of you, your altar, with the whisper of your fur coat at my back.

That was hours ago. It’s morning, now. The curtains are heavy but I can see the light peeking at our love from behind them, while every dove in Athkatla coos for you.

I’m growing tired, myself, and anxious to return to you. I think I’ll do that, now.

But what a sweet night it was, in the temple of Sune with you, my wild goddess in her furs.

On ao3 here, with the rest of Astarion's oeuvre.

Venus in Furs "Kneeling Woman", Salvador Dali

[littencloud9]

hi. have my current mtp thoughts.

the moriarty siblings genuinely devastate me what the fuck. albert, who’s ridden by remorse since the day he committed his ‘original sin’, who feels his mere existence burdens william, who sees their relationship as his selfish desire and thus remains guilty for years.

and then william, who tries to carry all their sins alone, for he doesn’t want to drag albert or louis with him, even though they’re a team. he is so kind, shockingly so when you compare it to the crimes he’s committed, and he carries his sins until he can’t bear it, and EVEN THEN!! even then he only lets albert see him like this because while they’re not blood brothers, they’re bonded by their shared crime. AND YET. and yet william sees his own vulnerability as a burden on albert’s shoulders, and thinks he should’ve kept it hidden, just to ease his conscience.

and thats not even mentioning LOUIS!! [head in hands] he stays in his brothers’ shadows this whole time, simply following their plans or taking care of the mansion. and yet he’s just as capable as his brothers. AND HE LOVES THEM SO MUCH. they protect him so much but all he wants is for them to take care of themselves, and he KNOWS they’re sinking under the weight of their responsibility but he isnt ever able to reach them. and when the final plan comes in, he can’t follow through. ARGH!!!

u know what. the group dynamic made me emo too. the way none of them wanted william to die, that all of them knew there was another way, but william felt that that was the only way he can atone to his sins. that it was his destiny set since the day he was born. and they all reacted so differently—louis and fred went to sherlock for help (and when you remember that louis was ready to eliminate sherlock the moment he was no longer useful to william, it makes that moment all the more better. because thats when you (and louis too) realise that sherlock isnt a pawn in the game, never was, and instead hes a friend. and a friend was who william needed at his lowest). there was moran who couldnt bear his own betrayal (it isnt betrayal. it was his heart.) and swore his life to carrying on william’s legacy. and albert who fell back into the shadows that he once was in before meeting the others.

do u ever think how william is so shrouded in darkness and his crimes and everything. and yet he was everyone’s light. how sherlock was london’s beacon of hope, but to the lord of crime group, it was william. to sherlock, it was william. to everyone who knew him well, william was their sunshine. HEAD IN HANDS

and sherliam’s dynamic. you werent just a pawn in my game, william says. you werent just a puzzle for me to solve, sherlock says. the words you’re a friend, you mean more to me than i ever thought, i want to save you, do you feel the same? go unsaid. the game of hide and chase throughout the story. how william’s entire plan, his whole DESTINY, was to die, and how when falling off the bridge together, sherlock tells him to live. let’s live together, he says. cling onto life, cling onto the people around you, we love you, don’t go. and that care is what surprised william the most—sherlock came as a friend, he feels the same.

the way sherliam are equals in every sense, yet different, yet the same. they have the same height and mind and kindness deep in their hearts. william is london’s darkness and sherlock is london’s light. yet william has light hair and sherlock has dark hair—there’s kindness in evil and evil in kindness.

the inherent intimacy of mr. holmes to sherlock to sherly, and professor moriarty to liam. and i think it’s interesting how sherlock skipped to the nickname stage so much faster than william. for it shows that he was more comfortable with the idea of getting close than william was. william remains more guarded, not wanting to drag sherlock into madness (i didnt think he’d kill a man this early), so only in his final moments does he say sherly. only then does he accept it.

anyway. im not even done with the manga LMAO. [on my knees] this story is so well-written and so hurtful and every arc was beautiful but the characters truly hooked me. every one of them and their dynamic is so lovely (i didnt touch on sherlock and john but i LOVE them and the scene of sherlock promising to take better care of himself for john was so great and also he never got to attend john’s wedding and im gonna go cry) and real. sorry if u read through my babbling mess. xoxo 💓

[eliotquillon]

would you be kind enough to give us some chameron spoilers for your time loop fic?

(sorry i’ll never stop pulling out this screenshot from my original rough draft outline)

so full disclaimer that one of the reasons why it’s taking me so bloody long to update/get stuff written is because chameron are giving me PROBLEMS!!! which is very fitting i suppose. the vision is that the fic ends not with chase and cameron ‘officially’ together, but with the understanding that things will be heading in that direction if cameron doesn’t immediately fall back into her old pre-loop habits — i am very, very fond of the way they get together in canon in the s3 finale, so it will be pretty similar to that in some ways. i am just having a little trouble getting them to that point. but as for a rough outline:

cameron sleeps with chase again pretty early in the loop - so far it’s looking like this’ll happen in chapter 4, but i might switch things around a bit and stick it at the end of ch3 instead - but this is mostly as another last ditch attempt to fix the loop. this, duh, is not going to work. (also, apologies to anyone expecting smut from me: this will be fade to black soz. this fic is consuming my life as it is without me having to teach myself how to write passable hetero smut for the first time LMAO.) things are going to be ROUGH for a little while after that — remember their screaming match in chapter 2? yeah there’ll more where that came from because cameron is going to be playing the most admirable game of emotional hide and seek you’ve ever seen. but the setup of the loop does, (un)fortunately, make chase one of the best people for cameron to confide in: he is already concerned about her from the moment she walks in. he already knows something is up. he’s willing to distract foreman and house to get her alone and see if she’s okay. obviously he’s still thinking in terms of meth aftermath, but he’s also perceptive enough to realise that something is still up with her even when cameron goes through her song-and-dance ‘everything is fine’ routine with him, and that starts to wear her down eventually.

it’s tempting for cameron to confide in chase, because even when she gets more into the groove of things…she’s still in a time loop. she’s still scared. she wants to find a way out. it’s all the same reasons she slept with him on meth. he’s offering her the chance to talk it out every single reset, and then when she does cave and tell him and he immediately BELIEVES HER…cameron freaks. because what the hell! foreman didn’t believe her! neither did wilson! he doesn’t have any memory of telling her he wants to be someone she can confide in all the way back in the second loop, and yet he’s putting his money where his mouth is. and then she has to grapple with the fact that, well…she keeps coming back to him for a reason. she slept with him on meth for a reason. she’s telling him about the loops for a reason. there are a few loops where she does enough prodding and poking to get him to admit that maybe he doesn’t just want things to be a one-off, and then she has to work through that and confront the fact that, well, yeah. maybe he’s onto something. and tbh being in a time loop is great for this because again—she can’t run away. the closer to the end of the loop she gets, the more upset she is that he doesn’t remember what they talked about the day before. that’s really the start of the breaking-free process, tbh. cameron’s actually pretty careful in what she does in the loops compared to, say, phil in groundhog day—she’s permanently paranoid/hopeful that the loop will break tomorrow, and doesn’t want to completely risk ruining the future—but the chase thing is a real crossroads because she has to be vulnerable with the very real risk of it not paying off and then the action maybe sticking if the loop breaks. She’s really normal!!

anyway. they do fumble their way to a happy ending, or at least the possibility of one! it’s slowburn and there’s a lot of repression on cameron’s end (and a fair bit on chase’s) so it’s not PACKED with intense hot moments or whatever, but there will be something for everyone. they do get there in the end.

and bonus extract from ch3: