#the plan was to start today but even if it WASN'T all the art is making me so nostalgic :(((

[auriidae]

you guys i can't take it anymore i'm going to reread homestuck

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[just-ornstein]

[JK]  My first job was as an Assistant Producer for a video game company called Interplay in Irvine, CA. I had recently graduated from Boston University's School of Fine Arts with an MFA in Directing (I started out as a theatre nerd), but also had some limited coding experience and a passion for computers. It didn't look like I'd be able to make a living directing plays, so I decided to combine entertainment and technology (before it was cool!) and pitched myself to Brian Fargo, Interplay's CEO. He gave me my first break. I packed up and moved out west, and I've been producing games ever since.

[JK] I loved my time at EA. I was there for almost a full decade, and learned a tremendous amount about game-making, and met the most talented and driven people, who I remain in touch with today. EA gave me many opportunities, and never stopped betting on me. I worked on The Sims for nearly 5 years, and then afterwards, I worked on console action games as part of the Visceral studio. I was the Creative Director for the 2007 game "The Simpsons", and was the Executive Producer and Creative Director for the 2009 game "Dante's Inferno".

[JK] I haven't played in a long while, but I do recall that after the game shipped, my wife and I played the retail version for some time -- we created ourselves, and experimented with having a baby ahead of the actual birth of our son (in 2007). Even though I'd been part of the development team, and understood deeply how the simulation worked, I was still continually surprised at how "real" our Sims felt, and how accurate their responses were to having a baby in the house. It really felt like "us"!

Now for some of the development and lore related questions:

[JK] So I ended up in the incredibly fortunate position of creating the shipping neighborhoods for The Sims 2, and recruiting a few teammates to help me as we went along. 

Around the same time, we started using the Buy/Build tools to make houses we could save, and also bring them into each new build of the game (correcting for any bugs and incompatibilities). With the import tool, we could load Sims into these houses. In time, this "vanguard QA" process turned into a creative endeavor to define the "saved state" of the neighborhoods we would actually end up shipping with the game.

On playtesting & the leftover sims data on various lots:

Basically, we were in the late stages of development, and the Save Game functionality wasn't quite working. In order to test the game properly, you really needed to have a lot of assets, and a lot of Sims with histories (as if you'd been playing them for weeks) to test out everything the game had to offer. So I started defining a set of characters in a spreadsheet, with all their tuning variables, and worked with engineering to create an importer, so that with each new build, I could essentially "load" a kind of massive saved game, and quickly start playing and testing. 

It was fairly organic, and as the game's functionality improved, so did our starter houses and families. 

The thought process behind the creation of the iconic three neighborhoods:

I would not say it was particularly planned out ahead of time. We knew we needed a few saved houses to ship with the game; Sims 1, after all, had the Goth house, and Bob Newbie's house. But there wasn't necessarily a clear direction for what the neighborhood would be for Sims 2. We needed the game to be far enough along, so that the neighborhood could be a proper showcase for all the features in the game. With each new feature that turned alpha, I had a new tool in my toolbox, and I could expand the houses and families I was working on. Once we had the multi-neighborhood functionality, I decided we would not just have 1 starter neighborhood, but 3. With the Aging feature, Memories, a few wacky objects, plus a huge catalog of architectural and decorative content, I felt we had enough material for 3 truly distinct neighborhoods. And we added a couple of people to what became the "Neighborhood Team" around that time.

Later, when we created Strangetown, and eventually Veronaville, I believe we went back and changed Pleasantville to Pleasantview... because I liked the alliteration of "Verona-Ville", and there was no sense in having two "villes". (To this day, by the way, I still don't know whether to capitalize the "V" -- this was hotly debated at the time!)

Pleasantview:

Anyway, to answer your question, we of course started with Pleasantview. As I recall, we were not quite committed to multiple neighborhoods at first, and I think it was called Pleasantville initially, which was kind of a nod to Simsville... but without calling it Simsville, which was a little too on the nose. (There had also been an ill-fated game in development at Maxis at the time, called SimsVille, which was cancelled.) It's been suggested that Pleasantville referred to the movie, but I don't think I ever saw that movie, and we just felt that Pleasantville kind of captured the feeling of the game, and the relaxing, simple, idyllic world of the Sims.

Pleasantview started as a place to capture the aging feature, which was all new to The Sims 2. We knew we had toddlers, teens, and elders to play with, so we started making families that reflected the various stages of family life: the single mom with 3 young kids, the parents with two teens, the old rich guy with two young gold-diggers, etc. We also had a much greater variety of ethnicity to play with than Sims 1, and we had all new variables like sexual orientation and memories. All these things made for rich fodder for a great diversity of families. Then, once we had family trees, and tombstones that carried the actual data for the dead Sims, the doors really blew open. We started asking ourselves, "What if Bella and Mortimer Goth could be characters in Sims 2, but aged 25 years? And what if Cassandra is grown up? And what if Bella is actually missing, and that could be a fun mystery hanging over the whole game?" And then finally the "Big Life Moments" went into the game -- like weddings and birthdays -- and we could sort of tee these up in the Save Game, so that they would happen within the first few minutes of playing the families. This served both as a tutorial for the features, but also a great story-telling device.

Anyway, it all just flowed from there, as we started creating connections between families, relationships, histories, family trees, and stories that we could weave into the game, using only the simulation features that were available to us. It was a really fun and creative time, and we wrote all of the lore of Sims 2 within a couple of months, and then just brought it to life in the game.

Strangetown:

Strangetown was kind of a no-brainer. We needed an alternate neighborhood for all the paranormal stuff the Sims was known for: alien abduction, male pregnancy, science experiments, ghosts, etc. We had the desert terrain, which created a nice contrast to the lush Pleasantville, and gave it an obvious Area 51 vibe.

The fact that Veronaville is the oldest file probably reflects the fact that it was finished first, not that it was started first. That's my guess anyway. It was the simplest neighborhood, in many ways, and didn't have as much complexity in terms of features like staged big life moments, getting the abduction timing right, the alien DNA thing (which I think was somewhat buggy up until the end), etc.  So it's possible that we simply had Veronaville "in the can", while we put the last polish on Pleasantville (which was the first and most important neighborhood, in terms of making a good impression) and Strangeville (which was tricky technically).

Veronaville:

But my personal favorite was Veronaville. We had this cool Tudor style collection in the Build mode catalog, and I wanted to ship some houses that showed off those assets. We also had the teen thing going on in the aging game, plus a lot of romance features, as well as enemies. I have always been a Shakespeare buff since graduate school, so putting all that together, I got the idea that our third neighborhood should be a modern-day telling of the Romeo and Juliet story. It was Montys and Capps (instead of Montagues and Capulets), and it just kind of wrote itself. We had fun creating the past family trees, where everyone had died young because they kept killing each other off in the ongoing vendetta.

[JK] You know, I have never seen The Lone Gunmen, and I don't remember making any kind of direct references with the Strangetown Sims, other than the general Area 51 theme, as you point out. Charles London helped out a lot with naming Sims, and I'm pretty sure we owe "Vidcund" and "Lazlo" to him ... though many team members pitched in creatively. He may have had something in mind, but for me, I largely went off of very generic and stereotypical ideas when crafting these neighborhoods. I kind of wanted them to be almost "groaners" ... they were meant to be tropes in every sense of the word. And then we snuck in some easter eggs. But largely, we were trying to create a completely original lore.

[JK] Well, I think we kind of pushed it with The Sims 2, to be honest, and I remember getting a little blow-back about Bunny Broke, for example. Bunny Broke was the original name for Brandi Broke. Not everyone found that funny, as I recall, and I can understand that. It must have been changed before we shipped.

We also almost shipped the first outwardly gay Sims in those neighborhoods, which was bold for EA back in 2004. My recollection was that we had set up the Dreamers to be gay (Dirk and Darren), but I'm looking back now and see that's not the case. So I'm either remembering incorrectly (probably) or something changed during development.

In general we just did things that we found funny and clever, and we just pulled from all the tropes of American life.

[JK] The alien abduction started in Sims 1, with a telescope object that was introduced in the "Livin' Large" expansion pack. That's when some of the wackier ideas got introduced into the Sims lore. That pack shipped just before I joined Maxis in 2001; when I got there, the team had shipped "House Party" and was underway on "Hot Date". So I couldn't tell you how the original idea came about, but The Sims had this 50's Americana vibe from the beginning, and UFOs kind of played right into that. So the alien abduction telescope was a no-brainer to bring back in Sims 2. The male pregnancy was a new twist on the Sims 1 telescope thing. It must have been that the new version (Sims 2) gave us the tech and flexibility to have male Sims become pregnant, so while this was turned "off" for the core game, we decided to take advantage of this and make a storyline out of it. I think this really grew out of the fact that we had aliens, and alien DNA, and so it was not complicated to pre-bake a baby that would come out as an alien when born. The idea of a bunch of guys living together, and then one gets abducted, impregnated, and then gives birth to an alien baby ... I mean, I think we just all thought that was hilarious, in a sit-com kind of way. Not sure there was much more to it than that. Everything usually came from the designers discovering ways to tweak and play with the tech, to get to funny outcomes.

[JK] Possibly we were just testing the functionality of the Wants/Fears and Memories systems throughout development, and some stuff got left over.

[JK] I can't remember, but that sounds like something we would have done! I'm pretty sure we laid the groundwork for more stories that we ended up delivering :) But The Sims 2 was a great foundation for a lot of continued lore that followed.

--

I once again want to thank Jonathan Knight for granting me this opportunity and taking the time from his busy schedule to answer my questions.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

What the fuck is a PBM?

TOMORROW (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Terminal-stage capitalism owes its long senescence to its many defensive mechanisms, and it's only by defeating these that we can put it out of its misery. "The Shield of Boringness" is one of the necrocapitalist's most effective defenses, so it behooves us to attack it head-on.

The Shield of Boringness is Dana Claire's extremely useful term for anything so dull that you simply can't hold any conception of it in your mind for any length of time. In the finance sector, they call this "MEGO," which stands for "My Eyes Glaze Over," a term of art for financial arrangements made so performatively complex that only the most exquisitely melted brain-geniuses can hope to unravel their spaghetti logic. The rest of us are meant to simply heft those thick, dense prospectuses in two hands, shrug, and assume, "a pile of shit this big must have a pony under it."

MEGO and its Shield of Boringness are key to all of terminal-stage capitalism's stupidest scams. Cloaking obvious swindles in a lot of complex language and Byzantine payment schemes can make them seem respectable just long enough for the scammers to relieve you of all your inconvenient cash and assets, though, eventually, you're bound to notice that something is missing.

If you spent the years leading up to the Great Financial Crisis baffled by "CDOs," "synthetic CDOs," "ARMs" and other swindler nonsense, you experienced the Shield of Boringness. If you bet your house and/or your retirement savings on these things, you experienced MEGO. If, after the bubble popped, you finally came to understand that these "exotic financial instruments" were just scams, you experienced Stein's Law ("anything that can't go forever eventually stops"). If today you no longer remember what a CDO is, you are once again experiencing the Shield of Boringness.

As bad as 2008 was, it wasn't even close to the end of terminal stage capitalism. The market has soldiered on, with complex swindles like carbon offset trading, metaverse, cryptocurrency, financialized solar installation, and (of course) AI. In addition to these new swindles, we're still playing the hits, finding new ways to make the worst scams of the 2000s even worse.

That brings me to the American health industry, and the absurdly complex, ridiculously corrupt Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs), a pathology that has only metastasized since 2008.

On at least 20 separate occasions, I have taken it upon myself to figure out how the PBM swindle works, and nevertheless, every time they come up, I have to go back and figure it out again, because PBMs have the most powerful Shield of Boringness out of the whole Monster Manual of terminal-stage capitalism's trash mobs.

PBMs are back in the news because the FTC is now suing the largest of these for their role in ripping off diabetics with sky-high insulin prices. This has kicked off a fresh round of "what the fuck is a PBM, anyway?" explainers of extremely variable quality. Unsurprisingly, the best of these comes from Matt Stoller:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/monopoly-round-up-lina-khan-pharma

Stoller starts by pointing out that Americans have a proud tradition of getting phucked by pharma companies. As far back as the 1950s, Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver was holding hearings on the scams that pharma companies were using to ensure that Americans paid more for their pills than virtually anyone else in the world.

But since the 2010s, Americans have found themselves paying eye-popping, sky-high, ridiculous drug prices. Eli Lilly's Humolog insulin sold for $21 in 1999; by 2017, the price was $274 – a 1,200% increase! This isn't your grampa's price gouging!

Where do these absurd prices come from? The story starts in the 2000s, when the GW Bush administration encouraged health insurers to create "high deductible" plans, where patients were expected to pay out of pocket for receiving care, until they hit a multi-thousand-dollar threshold, and then their insurance would kick in. Along with "co-pays" and other junk fees, these deductibles were called "cost sharing," and they were sold as a way to prevent the "abuse" of the health care system.

The economists who crafted terminal-stage capitalism's intellectual rationalizations claimed the reason Americans paid so much more for health care than their socialized-medicine using cousins in the rest of the world had nothing to do with the fact that America treats health as a source of profits, while the rest of the world treats health as a human right.

No, the actual root of America's health industry's problems was the moral defects of Americans. Because insured Americans could just go see the doctor whenever they felt like it, they had no incentive to minimize their use of the system. Any time one of these unhinged hypochondriacs got a little sniffle, they could treat themselves to a doctor's visit, enjoying those waiting-room magazines and the pleasure of arranging a sick day with HR, without bearing any of the true costs:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/27/the-doctrine-of-moral-hazard/

"Cost sharing" was supposed to create "skin in the game" for every insured American, creating a little pain-point that stung you every time you thought about treating yourself to a luxurious doctor's visit. Now, these payments bit hardest on the poorest workers, because if you're making minimum wage, at $10 co-pay hurts a lot more than it does if you're making six figures. What's more, VPs and the C-suite were offered "gold-plated" plans with low/no deductibles or co-pays, because executives understand the value of a dollar in the way that mere working slobs can't ever hope to comprehend. They can be trusted to only use the doctor when it's truly warranted.

So now you have these high-deductible plans creeping into every workplace. Then along comes Obama and the Affordable Care Act, a compromise that maintains health care as a for-profit enterprise (still not a human right!) but seeks to create universal coverage by requiring every American to buy a plan, requiring insurers to offer plans to every American, and uses public money to subsidize the for-profit health industry to glue it together.

Predictably, the cheapest insurance offered on the Obamacare exchanges – and ultimately, by employers – had sky-high deductibles and co-pays. That way, insurers could pocket a fat public subsidy, offer an "insurance" plan that was cheap enough for even the most marginally employed people to afford, but still offer no coverage until their customers had spent thousands of dollars out-of-pocket in a given year.

That's the background: GWB created high-deductible plans, Obama supercharged them. Keep that in your mind as we go through the MEGO procedures of the PBM sector.

Your insurer has a list of drugs they'll cover, called the "formulary." The formulary also specifies how much the insurance company is willing to pay your pharmacist for these drugs. Creating the formulary and paying pharmacies for dispensing drugs is a lot of tedious work, and insurance outsources this to third parties, called – wait for it – Pharmacy Benefits Managers.

The prices in the formulary the PBM prepares for your insurance company are called the "list prices." These are meant to represent the "sticker price" of the drug, what a pharmacist would charge you if you wandered in off the street with no insurance, but somehow in possession of a valid prescription.

But, as Stoller writes, these "list prices" aren't actually ever charged to anyone. The list price is like the "full price" on the pricetags at a discount furniture place where everything is always "on sale" at 50% off – and whose semi-disposable sofas and balsa-wood dining room chairs are never actually sold at full price.

One theoretical advantage of a PBM is that it can get lower prices because it bargains for all the people in a given insurer's plan. If you're the pharma giant Sanofi and you want your Lantus insulin to be available to any of the people who must use OptumRX's formulary, you have to convince OptumRX to include you in that formulary.

OptumRX – like all PBMs – demands "rebates" from pharma companies if they want to be included in the formulary. On its face, this is similar to the practices of, say, NICE – the UK agency that bargains for medicine on behalf of the NHS, which also bargains with pharma companies for access to everyone in the UK and gets very good deals as a result.

But OptumRX doesn't bargain for a lower list price. They bargain for a bigger rebate. That means that the "price" is still very high, but OptumRX ends up paying a tiny fraction of it, thanks to that rebate. In the OptumRX formulary, Lantus insulin lists for $403. But Sanofi, who make Lantus, rebate $339 of that to OptumRX, leaving just $64 for Lantus.

Here's where the scam hits. Your insurer charges you a deductible based on the list price – $404 – not on the $64 that OptumRX actually pays for your insulin. If you're in a high-deductible plan and you haven't met your cap yet, you're going to pay $404 for your insulin, even though the actual price for it is $64.

Now, you'd think that your insurer would put a stop to this. They chose the PBM, the PBM is ripping off their customers, so it's their job to smack the PBM around and make it cut this shit out. So why would the insurers tolerate this nonsense?

Here's why: the PBMs are divisions of the big health insurance companies. Unitedhealth owns OptumRx; Aetna owns Caremark, and Cigna owns Expressscripts. So it's not the PBM that's ripping you off, it's your own insurance company. They're not just making you pay for drugs that you're supposedly covered for – they're pocketing the deductible you pay for those drugs.

Now, there's one more entity with power over the PBM that you'd hope would step in on your behalf: your boss. After all, your employer is the entity that actually chooses the insurer and negotiates with them on your behalf. Your boss is in the driver's seat; you're just along for the ride.

It would be pretty funny if the answer to this was that the health insurance company bought your employer, too, and so your boss, the PBM and the insurer were all the same guy, busily swapping hats, paying for a call center full of tormented drones who each have three phones on their desks: one labeled "insurer"; the second, "PBM" and the final one "HR."

But no, the insurers haven't bought out the company you work for (yet). Rather, they've bought off your boss – they're sharing kickbacks with your employer for all the deductibles and co-pays you're being suckered into paying. There's so much money (your money) sloshing around in the PBM scamoverse that anytime someone might get in the way of you being ripped off, they just get cut in for a share of the loot.

That is how the PBM scam works: they're fronts for health insurers who exploit the existence of high-deductible plans in order to get huge kickbacks from pharma makers, and massive fees from you. They split the loot with your boss, whose payout goes up when you get screwed harder.

But wait, there's more! After all, Big Pharma isn't some kind of easily pushed-around weakling. They're big. Why don't they push back against these massive rebates? Because they can afford to pay bribes and smaller companies making cheaper drugs can't. Whether it's a little biotech upstart with a cheaper molecule, or a generics maker who's producing drugs at a fraction of the list price, they just don't have the giant cash reserves it takes to buy their way into the PBMs' formularies. Doubtless, the Big Pharma companies would prefer to pay smaller kickbacks, but from Big Pharma's perspective, the optimum amount of bribes extracted by a PBM isn't zero – far from it. For Big Pharma, the optimal number is one cent higher than "the maximum amount of bribes that a smaller company can afford."

The purpose of a system is what it does. The PBM system makes sure that Americans only have access to the most expensive drugs, and that they pay the highest possible prices for them, and this enriches both insurance companies and employers, while protecting the Big Pharma cartel from upstarts.

Which is why the FTC is suing the PBMs for price-fixing. As Stoller points out, they're using their powers under Section 5 of the FTC Act here, which allows them to shut down "unfair methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

The case will be adjudicated by an administrative law judge, in a process that's much faster than a federal court case. Once the FTC proves that the PBM scam is illegal when applied to insulin, they'll have a much easier time attacking the scam when it comes to every other drug (the insulin scam has just about run its course, with federally mandated $35 insulin coming online, just as a generation of post-insulin diabetes treatments hit the market).

Obviously the PBMs aren't taking this lying down. Cigna/Expressscripts has actually sued the FTC for libel over the market study it conducted, in which the agency described in pitiless, factual detail how Cigna was ripping us all off. The case is being fought by a low-level Reagan-era monster named Rick Rule, whom Stoller characterizes as a guy who "hangs around in bars and picks up lonely multi-national corporations" (!!).

The libel claim is a nonstarter, but it's still wild. It's like one of those movies where they want to show you how bad the cockroaches are, so there's a bit where the exterminator shows up and the roaches form a chorus line and do a kind of Busby Berkeley number:

https://www.46brooklyn.com/news/2024-09-20-the-carlton-report

So here we are: the FTC has set out to euthanize some rentiers, ridding the world of a layer of useless economic middlemen whose sole reason for existing is to make pharmaceuticals as expensive as possible, by colluding with the pharma cartel, the insurance cartel and your boss. This conspiracy exists in plain sight, hidden by the Shield of Boringness. If I've done my job, you now understand how this MEGO scam works – and if you forget all that ten minutes later (as is likely, given the nature of MEGO), that's OK: just remember that this thing is a giant fucking scam, and if you ever need to refresh yourself on the details, you can always re-read this post.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen

Image: Flying Logos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Over_$1,000,000_dollars_in_USD_$100_bill_stacks.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[giannaln4]

Silly Little Bet

lando norris x artist!reader

summary: You were an artist and Lando loved to do what you did best with you, even if he wasn't very good at it. (917 words)

warnings: this turns into a make out (not heavy, very short), use of y/n

a/n: hi lovelies! i know i said i was going to take a little break, but honestly i just need to not think about quali today (still crying about it idk what to tell you). anyway, this is incredibly short so i’m sorry but i still hope you enjoy it! pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻 i also wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me and sent support ❤️‍🩹 ily all so much, i really appreciate it!!

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Quiet nights were your absolute favourites. Getting to spend time with your boyfriend without having to worry about some schedule one of you had to stick to was perfect, to say the least. You always found a way to occupy yourselves, doing anything and nothing at the same time. 

Tonight, though, you got to do one of your favourite activities: art. You were an artist, a professional one, and of course he loved that about you; he loved seeing you in your element, so focused on what you did best, and even though he didn’t know yet, you loved dragging him with you so you could see him struggle a bit to at least not be the worst artist the world has ever seen.

Now, he was extremely talented, and if he weren’t a racer, he would be somewhat of an artist; he’s said it himself many times, but that was before he met you, because compared to you, he would never say that about himself, no matter how many times you have said it to him. 

Right now, you found yourselves sitting on your shared bed, facing each other, trying to win a silly little bet you made earlier. It was simple, really. You were supposed to draw the other person, and whoever loses would have to come up with a plan for dinner, which the both of you already knew would end up being a homemade meal, eating it on the couch, and watching some dumb show. This really worked out for him because, as talented as he was, he still struggled to draw real people, and he knew he was setting himself up when he accepted.

You knew that too, and you also knew he only gave in so he could have another one of your drawings of him. But that was okay, because another one of your favourite things was to admire his focused expression while he tried to replicate someone on a blank piece of paper. 

If he was being completely honest, the top reason he loved doing some type of art with you was because you would always come up to him and help with something, holding and guiding his hand or just being really close to his face as you explained something, so he would never say no to that suggestion.

“Okay, so I do you and you do me. Do I have to paint it as well?” He asked as you poured some of your art supplies on the bed.

“No, just a quick sketch,” you replied, scanning the bed as you carefully chose the pencil you wanted to use. “I’m starving, anyway.”

You started sketching each other; you were faster (and probably better) than him, but you couldn’t help but blush any time his eyes fixated on your face for too long, studying every aspect of you to try to draw it. After several minutes, you were done, just finishing up a few details before placing the paper on the bedside table next to you, away from him so he wouldn’t see it yet.

“How is it going?” You asked.

He looked up at you and yelled, “Don’t move!” When you started to get up.

"Sorry,” you whispered, going back to your previous position.

You stayed like that for a while, watching as Lando looked at you repeatedly and then back at the paper, occasionally erasing stuff. He was almost done, but there was one thing holding him back. “I can’t get it right,” he sighed, dropping the pencil.

“What can’t you get right?”

“Your lips. They look too big or too small, and now the paper looks worn out from erasing so much.” He was clearly frustrated.

“Can I see it?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lando asked you with an embarrassed look.

“Of course I’m not going to laugh; why would I do that?”

“You are a real artist, Y/N. You finished a while ago, and I’ve been stuck here trying to fix it, but I’ve only made it worse.”

“Lando, you are actually talented; I don’t make you do art with me because I wanna have a laugh. C’mon, show me.”

He sighed again and slowly turned the paper, showing you the drawing. “It looks terrible.”

Your eyes set on the paper, and an endeared smile appeared on your face. “It looks great, baby.”

"No, it doesn’t; as I said, you’re an artist, and you know exactly what’s wrong with it.”

“I mean it." You whispered, leaving your spot on the bed and sitting next to him, “Maybe the proportions are a bit off, but it does look great, I promise.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a smile, a moment of silence filling the room as you both stared at the drawing. “You know, maybe I just need to take a closer look at them.”

“Oh- I guess that would be helpful." You turned your body to face him, cupping his cheek and brushing away a few curls that rested on his forehead. “Do you want help?”

He nodded and broke the distance between you, locking his lips with yours as he pulled you onto his lap and his hands fell on your hips to intensify the kiss. You got closer and closer, pausing when your bodies couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other even if you tried.

“You know I can actually help you,” you said against his lips and in between kisses.

“Uh huh” Lando replied, not really thinking about the drawing anymore.

[feltit-wroteit]

Spoiled and Loved

Art Donaldson x Fem!Reader

In every way, you were the person that made the college experience that much better for Art. You, on the other end, were still struggling to find your place at Uni.

Watnings: inscure reader, lost reader, small angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader has rich parents, one s3x joke

There he was. In your usual spot in the cafeteria eating a lunch that his athletic nutritionist must've assigned him to eat. God was your boyfriend beautiful... "Baby?" He called you out of your trance and you smiled at him. "Come?" He motioned for the chair in front of him with his head. You walked toward it and sat down with your lunch that was healthy but certainly not planned. "Hey!" You said. You started eating and asking how his morning practice was and he smiled throught it all. After finishing his lunch and while explaining his morning, he drew mindless doodles on your left hand with a pencil. One was a tennis racket the other a heart and another a paint brush. Once he was done, silence had fallen and Art looked up at you, stopping his drawing. "Y/N?" Art asked while looking for your gaze. "Hmm?" You answered still looking at your left hand. "Look at me." He asked and lifted your head up with the help of his palm on your jaw. You looked at him and smiled. "How was your day so far, baby?" He then asked with certainty. You sighed and went to look down again, only to feel your boyfriend rubbing your jaw and hearing him hum no. When you met his gaze again you felt it.

The need to tell him the truth.

"Art?" He nodded at your interpellation, waiting for you to continue. "I don't think I belong here." You had felt like this for a while, but your boyfriend's joy at being here made that feeling simmer down a little.

That was until yesterday.

"That's Donaldson's girlfriend, right?" A girl said behind you during your history of the arts lecture. You normally tuned these type of conversations out, but today your ears decided that it was a mighty fine time to do as they wanted. "She play any sports?" The girl, Jenny from what you heard her friend call her earlier, proceeded to ask her friend, Luna. "Not that anybody knows of. Not to his level at least." The other girl answered with a certain turn in her voice. It wasn't a nice one at that. ""But she must do something else around campus for her to be with him, right?" Jenny continued her interrogations. "The only place other than her lectures that people see her at are Donaldson's games. She just does those two things that includes school life. People have said and know that she doesn't even have a major yet. She just does classes until she finally finds something that makes her spark. It's pathetic really." Luna said and chuckled with her friend who fired back : "Why would he want to be with her? If I were Art Donaldson-" And you never heard the last of her life hacks, because your ears decided you had been tortured enough as it was. The notes you had started taking were the only ones you took for the rest of the 3 hour lecture. Well, what was one more exam failed?

You would stay in this godforsaken place until you found a stupid major to work in life with.... Why bother studying right now? Your parents paid for your acceptance at Stanford. Your life was as corrupted as that.

"What do you mean Y/n/n?" Art asked with a concerned look and rubbed his tumb over your jaw. "I don't know what I mean by that. But that's also a problem, I never know..." you tried to explain but it was still unclear to him. He only wanted to comfort you and make you feel at ease at all times, but right now he couldn't understand you. That made him mad at himself. "I don't know what I am going to major in, I don't know why I went to college in the first place and I don't know what you find in me. Before you start to argue that point, I have to tell you that I don't doubt your love, I doubt my ability of being loved right now. I am a mess Art... I can't do it anymore! The only thing I do know, is that I'm going to end up like I always feared..." You continued to elaborate on your feelings while he was listening. "Baby... I love you for who you are. I'm sure what you feared for your future isn't even that bad-" you cut him off on that and laughed while letting some tears flow. "Oh yeah, it is. I will end up as every other rich kid who doesn't amount to nothing and will live off my family's money for my whole life." You said and removed his hand from your face. You didn't feel deserving of his touch right now. "Stop." He said sternly. How could he have left this go this far? How couldn't he have seen you were feeling like this? How bad of a boyfriend was he? "Y/n, you are not messed up. You are beautiful and intelligent and you are worth more than your family's wealth. You are important. Not only to me but to a lot of people. Listen, college isn't for everyone, baby. I know it 's easier listening than believing, but please don't pull away from me." He had tears brimming his eyes now.

What did you do to deserve him?

"I love you, Art. I'm sorry for upsetting you..." You explained and held his hand that had been squeezing the edge of the table. "Don't, baby. You do not have to appologize. I should appologize for not seeing how you had been feeling. Please... talk to me about these things. I want to be there for you like you are for me." He took your hand back in his to play with it lightly. "Okay." You said and smiled softly at him. "Okay?" He asked smiling softly too while looking into your eyes. "Yeah. I'll talk to you more about my feelings, baby." You nodded and affirmed.

As you both walked to your last class of the day that you shared, the girls of your history of the arts lecture passed you. They were looking at you and art with sadness. It was then you realized what they had been doing. Only wallowing in their jealousy because:

Art had chose you. Not them.

His heart was set on you and that made them mad. Some part of you felt like you could see them. Maybe you were loved by someone like they wanted to be, but you were also envious of how these girls would be graduating in Teaching in less than two months likw you wanted to be graduating.

Everybody was jealous of somebody in this world.

"Art?" You asked while going closer to his side. "Hmm?" He had answered when wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in even closer. "I think I'm jealous of you." You confirmed while giggling. "Oh yeah? How come, y/n?" He smiled at your randomness. "You have a massive dick. I want that." You said in the most serious tone you could master in that instance. Art burst out laughing and admitted that he was jealous of you too. "How come, Art?" You copied his sentence. "Imagine being as pretty as the one and only Y/n Y/l/n under sun rays. I'll pray for that to happen one day." You looked up into his eyes and stopped walking for a second. You smiled at him and went up to kiss him on his lips. The kiss was slow and full of love, just how you prefered then to be.

"I love you, baby. Even if you are a spoiled little brat sometimes." He said and tried to cover his head before you shoved his head to the side playfully.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Daisychains

Marta Torrejón x Caroline Graham Hansen x Child!Reader

Summary: Caro's nervous

It wasn't that Caro hadn't met you before. Before you started school, you would often be at practice with Marta but it's not like you were ever properly introduced. You knew each other in passing.

To you, Caro was someone on your Mama's football team, a co-worker. To Caro, you were her girlfriend's little girl.

You kept to yourself most of the time and Caro had been seeing less and less of you since you started school so it was a little strange to see Marta running late for practice and stepping out of her car with you on her hip.

"I heard the school got broken into last night," Patri gossips to Pina," I overheard Ale on the phone with Marta earlier. They decided to just shut down for the week until it was all sorted."

"Who breaks into a school?" Pina scoffs," I doubt there's anything valuable there."

Caro tunes out the rest of their conversation, wiping her hands on her shirt to get rid of the sudden bout of sweat that lingers.

Today was the day that you were meant to be meeting her properly. Marta and she had talked about it and decided it was time. Caro had a plan, gifts ready to give you but they were all at home, waiting to be picked up for dinner tonight.

She hadn't expected this at all.

Marta looks frazzled and stressed as she sets you up on the side of the pitch with your arts and crafts.

"Conejita," Caro hears her say," Will you be okay here?"

You nod but you're pouting so Caro doesn't quite know if you're being truthful. "There's no daisies," You say softly as you stare at the pristine grass.

"I'm sorry. It's not like the field at school but here, you have some flower charms. Why don't you make us all some bracelets?"

"Okay, Mami."

"Good girl." Marta presses a kiss to your temple. "I'll be over there if you need me."

"I heard about her school," Caro says as she falls in step with her girlfriend," It got broken into?"

"We didn't even get the email until I had already pulled up to drop her off. I'm sorry that the plan has been pushed up earlier."

"It's fine." It's a complete lie because Caro is quaking inside. She had a plan and now the plan is worthless.

You sit on the edge of the field the entire time, a morose look on your face when you have to substitute real flowers for flower charms. You don't seem very happy at all, still in your school uniform as your clumsy little hands thread some string through your beads and charms.

This is the most nervous Caro's ever been and she's played in Champion's League finals. The plan is ruined and all Caro can do is practice smiling like she did last night in the mirror.

"What's wrong with you?" Mapi, ever blunt, asks," You look like you're constipated."

Caro's failure of a smile drops and she busies herself with drinking.

"Nothing," She says," Nothing at all."

Mapi shrugs, dumping her empty bottle onto the floor before she beams at something over Caro's shoulder.

"Hola," She says," How many of those are you collecting? You will have no room on your arms soon."

Ingrid appears, beaming as she teasingly shakes the multitude of bracelets that adorn her wrists.

"You know I can't say no to her. She's too sweet. She was very upset there were no real flowers she could use."

It's clear to Caro who they were talking about and she spares a glance back to where you're sitting. Your pile of bracelets have dwindled, almost all of them now on Ingrid's arms while you're handing the last one over to Marta.

The rest of practice somehow crawls by slowly but also races by quickly. All too soon (and not soon enough) Caro is standing by Marta's side with that stupid failure of a smile on her face.

You're looking up at her nervously, shifting your feet around as you stare.

"Hola," Caro manages to get out, trying to widen her smile but all it seems to do is unnerve you further.

"Conejita," Marta says," Do you remember I told you you we were going to meet someone special later?"

You nod, still warily eyeing Caro.

"Well, this is Caro."

Your voice is absolutely tiny and soft. "I know Caro. She's on your team."

Caro tries smiling again, showing her teeth but you take a little step back.

"Caro is my girlfriend," Marta explains," That's why she's special."

Caro tries to put you at ease. She tries to look welcoming but you just look more and more distressed the longer she looks at you, feet shuffling you back until you've hit the wall.

"I...Er..." Your eyes dart around wildly like you've suddenly been caught in a trap and are desperately looking for an escape. You can see no other options so you crumble to the floor and burst into tears.

Caro flinches, tearing her hand from Marta's and she hurries to put distance towards.

"Caro-" Marta calls but she shakes her head.

"It's fine," She says even though none of this is fine at all and all Caro can feel is her heart shredding itself in her chest," Maybe it was too soon for her. It's fine."

"Caro, just give me a second. I'm sure-"

"We can try again later," Caro says," Go. Be with her."

Caro doesn't cry. She's never really been a big crier but breaking down in the safety of the locker room is all she can seem to do, sitting in her cubby and sobbing into her hands.

She didn't even check if anybody was still in there before the sobs racked her body.

"Caro?"

There's not many people that Caro doesn't want to see. She has no ill will towards anyone but there's something about Ingrid that is just no help in this situation.

Not Ingrid with her perfect smile and her wrists adorned with bracelets from you.

"Go away."

"Caro, seriously, what's wrong? Is it about..." Ingrid trails off, clearly not wanting to pry further as Caro sobs without restraint.

Caro doesn't speak but it's enough to tell Ingrid what she needs to know. It's uncanny just how easily she can tell what Caro's thinking.

"It's a shock," Ingrid says," And it's been a tough day. Her routine is all messed. She probably didn't even mean whatever she did. It's been a tough day and I'm sure that it's all just catching up to her now."

"She was scared," Caro finally gets out," I scared her."

"Caro-"

"I had a plan, you know. Marta told me she likes flowers. I was going to pick some up on my way over tonight. I was going to help her with her bracelets. I...I think she hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," Ingrid assures her," It's just been a long day. You can try again later."

"I don't want to try again later. I wanted to make a good impression today."

Ingrid sighs. "Caro, she's a little kid. She's going to have bad moods. You must have just caught one today."

Caro stands up, halfway to pulling her hair. "First impressions are everything!" She laments," I want her to like me! I want to stay in her and Marta's life! Ingrid, I really wanted her to like me."

"She will."

"I want her to like me today."

"She likes flowers," Ingrid says," And she likes making bracelets. If you really want to try again today then help her do both."

Ingrid's words are at the forefront of Caro's mind as she knocks on Marta's door that evening. She'd texted ahead to let her girlfriend know she wanted to try again but she still felt the steady thrum of nervousness as she waited for Marta to swing the door open.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Marta says," It was a long day earlier. You don't have to push yourself. You don't have to force yourself-"

"I want to," Caro insists," I...I brought her something?"

"You didn't have to buy her anything."

Caro laughs awkwardly. "I didn't."

Marta gives her an intrigued look before smiling. "Conejita? Caro is here to see you."

You're sitting in the lounge, cross-legged on Marta's shaggy rug and gently working on threading more beads on some string. You turn your head to look at your Mami and her girlfriend, a little furrow in your brow.

Your voice is a tad more confident than earlier but you still look a little nervous.

Caro feels the same, practically thrusting the bag in your face. It's just a simple plastic one that her groceries had been delivered in last week.

Briefly, she wonders if she should have used a different bag.

"You were sad about daisies earlier," Caro blurts out," I got you daisies."

She'd spent nearly two hours in total going to the parks in her area, picking daisies from the glass to put in the bag.

You peer into the bag, just to check and a smile splits your face and Caro can finally breath again.

"I know you like making bracelets too so I though you could use them to make daisychains."

"I don't know how to do that."

"Would you let Caro teach you, conejita?" Your Mami asks," I'm sure she'd be very happy to."

Shyly, you reach out for Caro, wrapping your whole hand around one of her fingers.

"Will you teach me please, Caro?"

Caro smiles at you. Not that practiced smile in the mirror. A proper smile.

"I'd love too."

[taiyeoki]

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘? | 𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐎

↳ Kashimo + Reader

Genre . Smut

Warning . 🔞Minors do not interact | Contains breeding/impregnation, face fucking, nipple play, fingering, cancelled orgasm

Synopsis . Kashimo doesn't always show vulnerable emotions but when a man comes around fancying you, his wife, that wall comes crashing down with the simplest jealousy. Now he just wants to fuck you till tomorrow. Maybe putting a baby in you will make sure you're his.

A/N . This was supposed to be finished way sooner but I got too caught up with some other work, causing me to sleep at 4-5am for weeks straight and it physically affected me so I got body ache and inflammation. Turns out I got covid. And then afterwards, which is currently, I'm focusing a lot on art lmao.

You had no plans today but to lay around on the couch all day long. Kashimo didn't mind since he's used to the woman staying at home during his time period anyway. The only difference now though is that you weren't even doing any chores. He never forced you to do them though, but seeing you sprawled out on the couch with a bag of chips next to you had him pushing you to get up.

Which is why you were here now, going into stores around the city. No way is Kashimo Hajime going to let his wife laze around all day. He cared about his wife's wellbeing and he knew the negative effects of being cooped up at home. However, this time he wasn't one bit pleased at all. He just regrets taking you out in the first place.

Your husband held a scowl on his face. He always looked fierce to begin with but this was different. You could feel his stare boring holes into the back of your head.

Going to the counter to order takeaways, the cashier held a rather innocent looking expression. The bright smile and friendly service wasn't fooling Kashimo though. He knew the cash register's true intentions weren't just to serve you.

"That'll be $15.70 ma'am," the man's smile widened in an attempt to be 'friendly'. It felt so disgustingly fake to your husband though. You replied with a polite "thank you," as you took your food, smiling in return but Kashimo saw how he purposely brushed his hand onto yours when serving you your order. He knew that you were too kind for your own good so it wasn't your fault for reciprocating the polite gesture but it pissed him off how anyone would try to fancy his wife.

Unfortunately for him, the cashier initiated a little conversation with you.

"I hope you enjoy your food. You've got great taste based on what you ordered. As expected from a woman such as yourself," his eyes darkened with intent staring at your frame, the smile he held wasn't going to fool Kashimo though.

"Do you come here often? I would love to help serve you again," his tongue darts out to lick his lips, almost as if he's moistening his lips to prolong more conversation.

"Oh, thank you. I guess I'm starting to become a usual customer here huh?" Chuckling, you replied noticing that you do come here more often than you think, appreciative of his kind offer.

"Great! That gives me even more reason to come to work," he laughs a bit at his joke but keeps his eyes on you. It was even more apparent now that he's leaning closer to you, close enough that he could take in your sweet scent which was supposed to be reserved for Kashimo only.

"Aren't you here to do your job? Or are you being paid to flirt with customers?" A smooth, velvety voice cuts in. Kashimo swiftly moves in front of you before you can pay for the food. He wasn't going to let this man touch you a second time, dropping the cash on the cashier's hands without even an inch of being near him so he wouldn't have to touch this 'thing'.

"T-thank you. You must be—"

"Her husband," Kashimo scoffed, a smug smile tugged on his lips handsomely. His agile movements snaked his arms around your waist, wrapping you right next to him to show who exactly you belong to.

Kashimo's presence only made the man look smaller than he was with your husband's dominating height towering over him. At least he wasn't dumb knowing how much more muscular your husband is compared to the guy working behind the counter trying to flirt with a married woman. His eyes zero in on Kashimo's strong hold on the small of your back and it was clear how possessive he got. You aren't bothered, leaning into Kashimo to envelope yourself in his comforting scent. The sight only made the man nervous with fear. He knew you were taken seeing from the beautiful blue ring that decorated your soft finger, both you and Kashimo having matching rings. Just by the looks of it he could tell how expensive it must've been and yet he still had the confidence to try and sway you— right in front of your husband too, who surely made more money than him with his part-time cashier job.

"Come on hun, let's go," Kashimo glances softly at you and his tone is gentle. Much different compared to this stranger who's just grateful that your husband decided to stay civil for the sake of his wife. He wears the look of horror when Kashimo turns around to face him once more.

"We'll be leaving now. I wouldn't expect a guy like you to be keeping their job for long if this is how you work."

Arriving home only meant that you had to deal with the little ordeal that happened, inquiring Kashimo about it. "What was that about? You didn't have to be rude you know."

Your beloved husband only scoffed when you reminded him of what happened. Seeing the sour expression on his face told you how annoyed he was, plus the deep scowl on his lips presented how pissed he was too. He pushes you against the kitchen counter, caging you between his strong arms as his lips latch onto your neck, kissing aggressively. You whine softly from how rough he's being, sucking on your supple skin creating hickeys everywhere while your fingers intertwine with his cyan locks. Your breaths are labored, he knows your body better than you do. He knows your sweet spots and your favourite positions, how you like it done and the perfect pace to do it.

Letting go, his saliva connects to your now bruised skin and he admires it.

"Pretty little mark. Should give you more don't you think?"

"Hajime, were you jealous?" You teased, giggling but your smirk is taken away when you feel his rough hand unclasp your bra, the other pulling your shirt up right above your breasts. Your sensitive skin exposed to the cold air causes your nipples to harden more than it needs to. Seeing this has blood rushing down to his cock as he flicks and tugs on your erect nipple, twisting it with the perfect pressure of his thumb and playing with your tits. Your head tips back with a moan, holding onto the kitchen counter for support while your husband ravages your body as he please.

Suddenly you feel his hot breath against your sensitive mounds. His lips wrap around your hardened nipple, sucking sensually producing lewd sounds from the wetness of your skin. His right hand continues to give attention to your left breast while he sucks on the other. You could feel Kashimo's calloused hand massaging your chest, the roughness of his thumb causing more friction against you as he twists and presses your nipple. God— his hands are too good. The man is skilled in pleasing you, he knows the perfect amount of pressure needed to have you over the edge.

Kashimo's free hand pushes your panties down, rubbing your already wet folds to get you prepped. He pushes a prodding finger against your walls, curling his finger just enough to hit the right spot. The sensation of his long finger abusing your sweet spot while his thumb circles your clit has you instinctively opening your legs further for more. Both his hands working you and his mouth sucking and lapping on your erect mounds already has you feeling like you're about to explode.

Your thighs shook in excitement as Kashimo's fingers slid inside of your already drenched cunt, and you moaned loudly, fingers scraping on the table under you with how your body is attacked by all this pleasure. Kashimo could feel your walls tighten around his digits. He knew whenever you needed to cum but as cruel as he is, Kashimo removes himself from your pussy, walls aching to release the familiar buildup in your abdomen.

You whined from the loss of sensation, feeling empty without him. "Hajime, why'd you st—"

He cuts you off, putting his pussy drenched finger inside of your mouth. "Lick it clean," His smooth, husky voice demanded. You couldn't deny how that turned you on more, sucking and lapping on your own juices off of his finger, making erotic sounds from it.

"There you go, see? Not so hard being a good little slut now right?"

He was enjoying the sight of your pretty lips wrapping his fingers, tasting yourself from it. Now his head was full of perverted thoughts on how you would look if you had your lips wrap his dick instead. If he had you sucking and choking on his fat cock.

Kashimo removes his finger from your mouth, too impatient to have you gagging on his dick. He kept his cyan eyes down on you while he licked his own fingers clean and it made you feel small and honestly inferior, submissive to him.

"Kneel down."

He had a mix of dominance and lust, greed hinted at the edge of his voice. You did as he said, kneeling down for your knees to take the weight while your face is in front of his crotch. Kashimo cupped his hand around the growing tent of his pants, rubbing it as his veins throbbed from the blood rushing south to his erection. "Go on. You know what to do," Kashimo had a smug smirk decorating his lips, eyeing down on you in front of him.

You gulped knowing what he wanted, the thought of his dick springing out of its restraints has you dripping wetter than before. Your hands pulled down on his pants slowly, earning a grunt from him at how you were taking your time in this. "Shit hun, stop teasing already," he grabbed a fistful of your hair and you moaned softly from how good it felt, forcing you to do as he say, rushing you more. Kashimo's left with his boxers on but you wanted to prolong your teasing. The tip of your tongue lapped at his clothed bulge leaving a damp spot, receiving labored breaths of sigh from him.

You continued your ministrations, licking his clothed shaft with the tip of your tongue like a needy slut until you yelped when he gently yanked on your hair, "what'd I say about teasing huh?" Your little fun of taking control was instantly stripped away when he forced you to stop. Pulling down the last of his restraints, his thick cock sprung out, tip leaking with precum.

Scrambling on your knees obediently, humiliation washed over you with your husband still gently grasping your hair. Kashimo's fingertip taps on his cock, smearing the pre-cum around the tip and then on your face.

"Pretty face would look better with my cock fucking into your mouth yeah?" He muses, moist tip rubbing up against your soft lips wanting to enter and just violate your face. You're practically drooling, tongue sticking out and he places his shaft flat onto it. You drag your tongue underneath him in a long and slow pace earning a low moan.

Your husband smoothly slides in his cock deep into your mouth, unprepared by his size even though you've already been married for years. You gagged a bit before adjusting to his length, drooling a bit onto his shaft and gripping on his thigh. His cock pushes through your lips, hitting the back of your throat while you try to breathe through your nose.

"Y'know you pissed me off. Just wanted to make me jealous huh?"

You couldn't respond. Cock deep in your mouth, you could only muffle in denial. It was true though, you didn't mean to make him jealous. What started off with you teasing him about it turned into him face fucking you. His smoothly styled cyan hair falls out of place, bangs sticking onto his face from the sweat forming on his forehead and his buns turning messy.

"Shouldn't my wife apologize? Use your big girl words and say you're sorry," the room resonates with his groans, his girth making it hard to breathe as you try and say sorry.

"Mmph- soh-wee—"

It was all you could say after all with a meaty cock in your mouth, nose brushing against his hair as he keeps you in place with the firm grip he has on your locks. A sadistic smirk curled onto Kashimo's lips as he watches, beginning to quicken up the pace. You hate and love how determined Kashimo is, once he sets his goal on something he'll do whatever it takes to achieve it. At this moment though, he's determined to have his wife deepthroating him.

The friction of each thrust has his dick tattooed in a darker red, grunting at the wet cave that's going to send him to heaven. His movements get sloppier and grow desperate, balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.

"Ah— fuck!" With a final thrust he spurts all his cum down your throat, pushing you right against him to keep you in place as his little cumdump and making sure to leave none behind. "Swallow," he demands, hot seed slides down your throat as you try and swallow while his dick is still in your mouth.

With a huff, Kashimo lets go of your abused throat to let you breathe. Gasping for air, your hand rubs your sore neck but you could see how his dick still stays standing despite how satisfied he was with jizzing in his wife's mouth.

Looking up at him, your husband's lips held the seductive smirk, palming on his wet, still-hard cock in front of you. Standing on his full height, he grabs your waist and pulls you up, laying your belly side on the kitchen counter behind you.

"You want this? Your pussy's drooling for my cock but you're not speaking clearly enough. I'm gonna need my little slut to speak. We can't have my wife suffering now can we?"

"Please.." you pleaded, his firm hand spanks your ass receiving a whine.

"Cute."

Kashimo slides inside with ease from how wet you were from your cancelled orgasm, cock stretching out your plush walls as your thighs shook in excitement. Moaning against your sleeve, you start fucking yourself on his dick. Kashimo doesn't hesitate in helping you, picking up the pace and fucking hard into your drenched cunt. You could feel every inch of his dick, pussy memorizing every pretty vein on him, how it feels like you two were made just for each other while his tip easily abuses your sensitive spot.

Your body glistens with sweat, shoulders littered with hickeys with Kashimo leaving bite marks on you, his teeth biting on your skin just hard enough to draw out pleasure without hurting you. You moaned as his fingers rubbed your clit in circles

Kashimo gets the perfect view of where your bodies are connected, every thrust from your squelching cunt creating a white ring of both your arousals. Your trembling legs were proof of how much you were enjoying it, toes curling and fingers gripping the smooth surface of the table with a muffled squeal.

"Fuck- gonna cum inside, gonna make you pregnant,"

He claws against your waist, the euphoria of him filling you up while your hardened nipples rubbed against the counter from each thrust's friction. Your mouth hung open but no noises escaped your pretty swollen lips. Kashimo loved the idea that his cock was making you feel so good that your brain couldn't even react to it all the while his tip kisses your womb with every push, hitting you in your fucked-out state.

"Can't even speak now? Wanna be a mommy huh? You like that idea?"

You tried reaching back to grab his arm, whimpering to signal that you were about to cum with the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen. Your husband leans down to give you kisses though they were more possessive than caring, giving sloppy french kisses with more tongue than lips. The sweat forming at your skin caused you to slide against the counter with every thrust, trying to grab on to anything for support.

The thought of your belly round with a baby and your fuller breasts being sensitive was enough for Kashimo to cum.

Teeth sinking into your neck to muffle his groans, his hot cum spilled inside of you making sure to paint every inch of your walls white. Spurts of his load fills your belly and he stays there cockwarming until it softens, pulling out.

Your husband's digits went down to spread your lower lips, watching how his cum oozed out of you. He curls his fingers to scoop up his orgasm and pushes it back into you, making sure his beloved wife is full of his hot seed.

"Hajime—"

"Sorry hun, I got too rough didn't I? I was just jealous but I'll make it up to you. I just love you so much," he plants a tender kiss on your back, massaging your sore hips.

Giggling at how he peppers soft kisses all over you, you reassure him. "It's okay, I had fun."

Chuckling, Kashimo nuzzles into your neck, still rubbing your sore flesh and promising to give you a full body massage.

"But hey, you'll make me such a happy daddy."

[gguk-n]

Chapter 2- Secret and Surprises

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N has lost out on a few of her publication dreams while juggling 2 jobs. Her crush on Max has only led to failed relationships. She dreams of one day meeting and being with Max. But Max has a girlfriend and a career she knows nothing about.

{Reader's POV}

I finally moved out from my parents's place a few years back when I decided to pursue Literature. It was a very difficult time for me but I had Max by my side. Trying to convince my parents that I want to understand the art of writing and then doing what I love was very challenging. I moved to a another city with my dream university. Even today, they detest my choices and hope that I would take my life seriously. It has been difficult but seeing them once or twice a year only has made it easy.

Max and I are still very close. I still have a crush on him; it got worse after we started video calling each other after I moved out. I wasn't about to get 'caught' talking to a guy under my parents's roof. The consequences would be disastrous. Max is still the same, slightly older, has a stubble. I still don't know his full name, but he doesn't know mine either and I don't mind keeping it that way.

Having Max as a friend has hindered quite a few relationships either because they weren't him or they were jealous of some guy I would drop everything for. He still has a horrible sleep schedule, I've scolded him a couple time, but he doesn't listen. However, he has the cutest cats, Jimmy and Sassy. They love their dad a lot; I really wanna get cats too but I'm barely keeping myself alive, I'll kill my pets.

My job pays shitty, I'm a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I had hoped that being an editor for bigger and well established authors would help me improve my writing and get my book or poems published; has yet to happen. All my clients are kind people and very understanding of my predicament. Alas, this doesn't leave me much time in the day; teaching, lesson planning, correcting papers, editing other's stories or poems, talking to Max. Max has gotten pretty good about not disappearing like he did a couple years back. I still have no clue what he does, not like he knows what I do specifically. But he said he does something along the lines of cars; I knew he loved cars. I hope his job pays him better since he moved a few years back when I was still at home. His place looks lavish, either he gets paid well or it's from the company. I will never know. He's seen the shit hole I live in, but has yet to comment on my poor living conditions. I have too much of an ego to let my parents know I am struggling; I would rather starve then let them know. All I would hear is that they were right and I should mend my mistakes. What mistakes should I mend when these were my choices and I'm happy with them.

I've compiled 20 of my poems and even wrote a book, I've sent it to so many publishers in hopes that it will get picked up. This is like my fourth or fifth time. I mean, I haven't exhausted my resources and till the day all the publications shut down I'm not giving up. I've been rejected quite a few time, sometimes at the initial stages or after first reading and preview. They make publishing a book look so easy on shows and movies. I wish it was that easy in real life, but it isn't.

Being on spring break makes it so much easier for a while, till I have to return. However, I can focus on my book and the editing gig since it pays better than teaching. There's this guy I'm editing for currently and he's so annoying. I want to stop working with him except he pays the best. The life of being chained to capitalism. I was fixing up his errors when my phone rang, it was Max on video call. We spoke on video call a lot after I moved out. He's attractive, blue eyes; truly all my weaknesses combined. When the screen popped up, he almost fell out of frame when Jimmy jumped on the phone. Max placed Jimmy on the floor. Max- Hey, Schat. Sorry about Jimmy. Y/N- Hi, honestly I would rather talk to Jimmy. (I laughed) Max- Sometimes, I think you are friends with me for my cats. Y/N- Yeah, I would've stopped being your friend had you not adopted them. Max- Wow! I'm hurt. (He placed his hand on his chest) Y/N- Stop being dramatic. I'm just living vicariously through you. Max- You should get cats too, you seem lonely. Y/N- I wish, I'll end up killing them since I'm so busy. Max- hmmm, I hope you find a companion. I did find a companion Max, every time I get a boyfriend, we break up directly or indirectly because of you I thought. Max- What happened to Finn? I thought he was smitten for you. Y/N- Yeah, things didn't work out. We both were too busy with work. In actuality, when we finally got close after months of talking and the first time we had sex I moaned out Max's name. He left immediately. I wasn't about to tell Max this. It would ruin everything, I believe. Max- What were you doing? Y/N- Editing that ass's book. Max- You know maybe, you should leave some blunders, not the most obvious ones but one's that would make him look stupid. Y/N- I wish Max, he pays me a shit ton to do my job. (I laughed bitterly) It's fine, honestly. I'll be done soon and I'll never have to see him again, hopefully, fingers crossed. Max- I hope so too. Y/N- Max, you should date someone. Instead of worrying about me. I've never seen you date anyone in all the years I've known you. Max- ahh, yeah, I'm too busy with work to do that. Y/N- If we lived closer, I would've set you up with someone. That someone being me, but he doesn't need to know that. We haven't even met yet; we never even spoke about meeting each other honestly. Max scratched his neck, shaking his head. Max- I'm good, schat. You should find someone, maybe you'll stop being cranky. Y/N- I'm not cranky, at least not with you. Max let out a deep laugh. Max- Well, I've got to go. My sister's visiting. I'll talk to you later. Y/N- Sure, say hi to Victoria for me. Bye Maxie!! Max- bye Y/N.

Talking to Max always brightened up my mood. But since, Victoria's visiting, he won't be available to talk as often. That means I'm gonna have to spend all my free time scrolling through Instagram. It's all fun and games until I'm on hour 6 of some random video on Youtube. I spent the next couple of days cooped up in my home, just to enjoy waking up late. There were still a few months still summer break and I intended on enjoying them to the fullest.

School started way to soon for my liking. Max would send pictures of Jimmy and Sassy to cheer me up. It did cheer me up. Max travelled a lot for work, I've seen quite a few hotels and I think they are 5 star hotels. So, his work place is rich rich. I wish Max would hire me, I lamented, maybe then we might meet. I've thought about meeting him but he never showed any inkling that he would like to meet me. I wasn't about to seem desperate; I would probably jump him if I did. I mean he is single, so it's fine.

When the school started after spring break, I got handed a new author to help edit her work. I spoke to her and she was very nice to talk to. The book she was writing was based off a sport. On further questioning, she told me it was Formula One. I had heard about it when my city hosted a Formula E race a couple years ago. I don't remember much because I'm not sure if they held it again but what I can tell you is that traffic got so bad, I hated leaving the house for a couple of days. I don't really see the appeal of watching people go around in a circle in fast cars. I think I would panic if I found out how fast they drove. The author asked me to do some research on the topic. I was a good student and I wanted to be of help, so I decided to spend the next couple of hours going through Formula One and their rules.

There's something I have to clear up, I have a type of blindness bias. If I'm not interested in a topic, it would be like I live under a rock. Nothing could phase me and I couldn't care less. That's how I ended up on the wikipedia article of Lewis Hamilton, Micheal Schumacher and then current champion Max Verstappen. Schumacher and Hamilton were very good, reading about them made me awe struck. What really shocked me was a guy named Max Verstappen, who looked awfully like Maxie. I've stared at Maxie more than I would like to admit, so I'm sure they look alike. As I went through the article, my heart seemed to beat harder; not sure why. I felt like this was my Maxie however I believed that Maxie would've told me if he was a Formula One driver. I had to lay my doubts to rest, so I ended up on Youtube with the search bar reading Max Verstappen. My doubts laid to rest in a place I didn't want them to; Maxie was Max Verstappen. I could recognise that voice anywhere. He talked a lot, I could recognise his voice in a crowd of people or in my sleep. All my suspicions were cemented when I saw a picture of 2 cats who looked like Jimmy and Sassy and were called by the same name. My heart was ready to jump out of my chest. Max had lied to me; but was it really lying when I never prodded him for answers. Worst of all, he had a girlfriend and a kid. That's when I felt I was lied too. How could he not tell me? I would've genuinely been happy for him. We would've celebrated his 2 championship wins. My throat felt dry and my eyes wet.

Life wasn't fair when I've been trying to get my book published while my best friend, don't even know if I can call him that, is a 2 time world driver champion. He never even told me, while he has been in Formula One almost all our friendship and karting all his life. I felt the ground slipping from under my feet. Was I that unimportant to not share such a crucial part of his life or huge accomplishment in his life? Was I even his friend? All these questions raced through my mind, while tears streamed down my cheeks. The pillow wet from my tears when my phone rang. It was Max on the other line, and for the first time in 10 years I did not answer his calls even though it rang for a 4-5 times. He finally stopped after sending me a couple of worried messages; asking how I was and where I was?

[Max was freaking out. Y/N never missed his calls, no matter the time or place. Worst of all, she didn't even reply to his messages; not after 5 minutes or 10 minutes or 20 minutes. Max didn't know where she lived, he didn't know who to call, or who to ask about her. His hair was a mess, he was pacing the room so much so, that his girlfriend’s daughter asked him what happened. He couldn't tell them, no one knew of this secret internet friend he had. Who was he supposed to contact to file a missing person's report? He tried to calm himself down and think happy thoughts but all his thoughts were Y/N]

[mayuichi]

Spending your birthday with them.

Include:

Genshin Impact [ Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Heizou ]

Honkai: Star Rail [ Aventurine & Veritas Ratio ]

Persona 5 [ Akechi Goro ]

Moriarty the Patriot [ William James Moriarty & Fred Porlock ]

Content Warning: fem!reader, I'm sorry for men that may read this! If you easily switch pronouns in your mind then go ahead, but there's mention of the reader wearing a dress at some point! (kind of irrevelant though, so I think you can imagine something else then?), pet names and.. that's all i think-. it's just a fluff so...

may's note: im so sorry i took so long to come back!! ive got a lot on my plate recently, i had planned another oneshot to come out but but BUUT!! My best friend's birthday is right around the corner when I write this (aha just a day before.. hi..) so im writing this for her, with her favourites and some that i know she loves <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!! I HOPE YOULL HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND THAT YOU GOT THAT PLUSH YOU WANTED TO GO WITH AVENTURINE!! ive kinda rushed this to come out ngl, because its been a month im like "i have the time" until i didnt have time anymore.. sorry if it sucks :(

This artwork has been made by susucre! Do not steal/use it! every other used for the headers are official arts!

Even if he doesn't want to, he has duties now. Or at least, unexpected duties. But you can be sure Alhaitham always makes some time for you. How can he not? You're his sweetheart. Well, he isn't one to give sweet names but he still thinks so.

However, how could've you expect him to forget about your birthday? It's once a year, and he doesn't really care much about them usually. But we're talking about you. Of course he can't forget about it. He wants you happy, and he knows you'd hate if he doesn't at least wish you a happy birthday.

But what was your surprise when you find him still in bed, beside you, his right arm drapped over you as he reads from the other. Isn't he supposed to be at work, at the Akademiya? You don't even have the time to inquire, he saw your eyes fluttering open.

“Good morning.„ he briefly looks over you, before focusing back onto his book. But he strokes your side with his hand gently. He isn't much of a talker, but his small gestures are everything, aren't they?

He rapidly finishes his page, and places the book down to turn to you. “I'll let you take a shower and I'll prepare you breakfast.„ you can't even reply that he's already out of bed and heading to the kitchen. You'll just have to go shower.

It's your special day. Of course you'll wear a pretty dress, you want to feel extra pretty for today. When done, you head to the living room, finding him waiting for you to eat. It isn't a feast, but more than enough for the both of you. The silence is comfortable, only your breathing.

“Where are you going?„ he inquires when he sees you about to open the front door. You thought you'd go on a walk. “I haven't overworked myself for a week so I could have a full day off for you to ditch me, you know?„

It wasn't much, maybe even a bit offensive for some. But the idea that he paid attention enough to be certain to have a complete day off for you is enough to make you smile. And so, you chuckle and walk towards him.

“The weather is nice. It's sunny. We should go out together, don't you think?„ you tilt your head, waiting for his approval.. or for a compromise.

“It is. It's the perfect weather to do nothing at all. Or to read next to a window.„ without further notice, he stands and pulls you with him to the nearby window. Making you sit in his lap, he pulls out a book and rests his chin on top of your head.

“Maybe it isn't the best birthday you'll ever have, but I hope my company is enough.„ he isn't necessarily insecure, far from it even. But it's your special day. He just wants to make you happy, doesn't he?

And even if he says so, just reading in his lap with him, is enough. Spending time with him makes it nicer. Leaning further into his chest, you sigh and start to read with him. He's careful to wait for you, to ensure you finished before he actually turns the page.

He'll take breaks from time to time to make you both a drink, or to let you talk a bit. It isn't partying, but being able to spend the day together, reading and talking, without him possibly thinking about his duties is a luxury he doesn't always allow himself.

And he's more than glad for it to be with you.

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ⋆·˚ ༘ *︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚༊*·˚

Until now, Wriothesley was used to stay in the Fortress most of his time. It never bothered him. Sigewinne keeps him company, and his prisoners aren't too bad most of the time. Even Neuvillette or Clorinde comes visit him from time to time.

But it changed when he met you. He didn't want you to be that often in the Fortress, and yet he couldn't help but want you. You don't know it, but he even asked Neuvillette for your birthday. It has never been that much of a talk in between you. You were both kind of over it after all. You aren't toddlers for who it is extremely important to get one year older.

But he wants your first birthday with him to be special, to be something you'd remember. He wants to make this day amazing. And for that, he had to have permissions and ensure the paperwork was done before that day. He had to be prepared for any possibility, to be called in for an emergency if someone tried to escape, or if they get overwhelmed and for your day to be ruined.

But he was willing to take that risk.

On your occasional weekly visit, you both talk and drink tea together, as any other time. You're not sure when, yet now, he has you in his arms, holding you close. It is as if he believed you were leaving. He's quick to compose himself and just steals a kiss from you, to hide his worries behind that smirk he always has when he surprises you.

“By the way, I've heard your birthday is soon, isn't it?„ you raise an eyebrow. You haven't told him, yet he knows. “Would you like us to spend the day together?„

You were so sure he meant inside the Fortress of Meropide, that when he mentioned that it wouldn't be there, but in the city, your eyes widened. Of course, you firstly worried about his work. It isn't like he's just a guard who could take a day off or a sick day. He has a prison to keep in place.

But he assured you it'd be alright. And so you trust him. There's no reason for you not to.

Your birthday was soon to come, and you waited for him in front of the Fortress' entrance. Dressed in a pretty outfit, that you kept on for this occasion, you obviously felt amazing. And upon seeing you, Wriothesley grinned. “Someone made herself extra beautiful for today.„

His tone flirty, he wraps his left arm around your waist and pulls you close, pressing his lips on your hair. “It suits you perfectly. But you're always beautiful.„ his words meant the world to you.

And so began the day. Wriothesley is careful, meticulous even. He makes sure you stay hydrated, well fed and have fun. If you want a pastry, he'll buy it without a second thought. This piece of jewerly looks pretty on you? He'll offer it to you, no matter the cost.

It's weird for everyone to see the Duke out of the Fortress. He's respected for sure, and well known. You hold hands all day long, sometimes stealing kisses when you're in a alley or when no one's looking.

When the sun fades away to let the moon takes place, stars show up too. Now sitting near the water, you both look up at the navy blue sky. Wriothesley lets out a sigh and clears his throat. “I hope you had fun. I'm not sure when I'd be capable to have such a long time outside the Fortress without it being work related.„

Sure or not, you're just happy he manages to have time for you. And he's relieved everything went smoothly. He leans closer to you, his lips grazing your cheek. “Happy birthday.„

And even if it has caused him some stress, he's ready to do it over again next year if it makes him see your eyes so sparkly and shiny with delightment and happiness.

He'd risk anything to see you smile and hear your laughers echoing in his ears.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ‧̫‧ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

The good part of being a detective is that he knows how to not leave any clue about his true intentions. And so, he can surprise you whenever he wants and you won't even realise he has planned it for a while!

Since Heizou can hardly take a day off recently, you agreed it'd be better if you spend the day with your friends and just leave your evening for him.

It was an amazing day, your friends and you strolled around the city, went to some fancy places and just spoiled you entirely. But it felt off, knowing that Heizou wasn't with you like you wished he could've.

They dropped you by your house, and with a sigh, you stepped inside. Of course Heizou wasn't home yet. It wasn't surprising, he's quite overwhelmed with work lately. Yet there was a small disappointment in your chest. Your heart was a bit heavier. But you brush it off.

By the time he gets home, you had just finished preparing dinner. He steps closer with that shitty grin and clears his throat. “Such a sweetie, making dinner when I hoped I'd have time to treat you today.„ of course, he doesn't want you to do any effort for today, but his schedule decided otherwise.

And so, with a swift movement, he shoves a bouquet against your chest. “I know it isn't much compared to how it could've been nicer to spend the day together, but I hope it'll make it up for it a bit.„

Heizou has always been a romantic at heart, he loves it when he sees your cheeks flushing and feels your breath growing faster from his teasing. And he's delighted to see that sweet blush spreading slowly.

Leaning in close, he takes your hands in his, and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “Let's eat dinner and enjoy the time we have tonight, alright? I need to make it up for you.„

He lets you take care of the bouquet first, ensuring it won't die just yet. He teases you about your day, plays with you some games and even let you win for once. And needless to say the night ends in something.. more than just flirt and teasing.

But he hopes next year won't be as busy, so he can treat you like the princess you are in his eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☽ ✧˖*°࿐ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A gambler. That's what he'll always be no matter what, no matter the day. He needs to work every single day, to be a good asset for the IPC. He can't afford losing. He will never accept it.

But today, Aventurine thought it'd be nice to let you experience gambling too. Well, not as much as he usually does, but more in a regular casino. He's obviously well known here, and has some free drinks. But he wants you to enjoy it too.

He teaches you how to do, the ropes of each games. To guess when to stop, and more importantly of course, to understand the rules and that losing can cost a lot. But deep down, Aventurine doesn't give a fuck about how much money you'll lose. He has way more than someone can think of.

Each games were fun, but you hated seeing those girls eyeing him like you don't exist. Don't they see you, the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, with who he holds hands? Or perhaps they don't care. But it frustrates you.

Even more so when one comes closer and accidentally spills wine on Aventurine's jacket. He doesn't react at first. But he grows more and more impatient as she tries to clean her mess.

But he got fed up when she literally sat in between the both of you. Who does she think she is? “Excuse me, Miss,„ with a dry chuckle and bright smile, he stands up and walks behind her, “don't you see her?„

Swiftly, almost as if he has always been ready for it, he pulls you close, your head resting on his chest. Your face flushes bright red of course, but you don't say anything. “She already holds the string. And compared to you, she doesn't care about my money. So if you please, do not dare to bother us further on her special day.„

He leads you away, and yet, casts them a last glance, “Except if you want to face the consequences, that is. But I doubt you would like it.„

He'd never let anyone makes you feel inferior, nor worthless, and even less when it's supposed to be your day. The day he caters to your every need without any complaint or question.

Upon arriving to a new game, away from those nuisance, he holds your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours. “I'm sorry, darling. But I promise you, you're the only one in my eyes. The prettiest, the cutest, and the most loveable woman I've ever set my eyes on.„

He'd cherish you. He knows the pain, and he wants to keep you away from it. He struggles at time, but every effort is worth of your smile. Every day is a delight to get home to you, to know you're his, and that he's yours.

That he has a home. A home with you.

☆.｡.:*　❥　-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-　☽　.｡.:*☆

What were you thinking when you first confessed to him? Of course you thought he'd reject you. We're talking about Veritas Ratio. But to your surprise, he accepted! But maybe you should've been careful... He's a teacher.

It isn't uncommon for Veritas Ratio to call you stupid or dumb, because you don't understand something or that you made a mistake on something simple. But you also know he'll always be here for you.

Compared to one of his colleage, he isn't particularly rich. Don't get me wrong, he is completely financially stable, and he won't be anytime soon the type to get ruined. But basically, if you need special teaching in something he doesn't master, he won't hesitate to help you with it.

He can't help but put intellect into a bit everything he does. But he knows it can piss you off at times, especially when it's not the moment for it.

Today, he has a long day. Longer than intended. So you nicely bring him lunch. Yet he requests of you to stay until his break is over. You know he isn't one to care about birthdays, but he does remember them if he is supposed to know them. Yours is no exception.

“I'm going to be home later than usual tonight, but perhaps you have any wish for how we spend our time?„ it isn't often that he lets you so openly choose. But you don't wait more time to ask if you could watch a movie and snuggle. You need nothing more than some rest, and so does he.

Laughers fill the empty classroom, except for the both of you. He knows when to not overdo it, especially with you. He will never admit it entirely, but he doesn't want to risk losing you. He can't. Not when you bring him so much by just existing.

There's a reason why he doesn't want you to be to close to that blonde, don't you think? But it doesn't matter.

In the evening, after you shared dinner, you set on the couch with him, snuggling up. His left hand caressing your side while his right one is holding a pen. Of course he can't only watch a movie, he needs to keep on going with his paperwork. But he doesn't entirely focus on it.

However, from time to time, you'd hear from Veritas that he clicks his tongue. He seems rather.. unpleased. And when you take a look, you don't see anything wrong. “Of course you don't, you're too much of an idiot to realise that student's mistake. What a pity.„

Unfortunately for you, you dared to ask what was the mistake.. and now you're in for a lecture. He sits you up and explains to you, in a rather annoyed tone. It isn't a surprise to say that you both don't even noticed when the movie has finished.

You're about to stand up when he holds you back, pulling you in his lap. “Don't you dare run away from my lecture. You asked to know, so you'll know.„ It promises to be an interesting evening and night, especially if you try to push your luck.

Veritas will make sure you get the appropriate punishment if his patience runs out by the time he's done with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ੈ✩‧₊˚ೃ⁀➷˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚.ೃ࿐

Have you ever imagined he'd steal your heart? A detective by day, a Phantom Thief by night. He earned his title well, he's definitely a prince in your eyes.

“Are you still listening?„ Akechi inquires. You have to admit, you weren't. You were too charmed into his eyes, shining as he shares his day with you.

“I've been thinking, there's an amusement park not far from here. Would you like to go with me?„ he asks. He isn't really scared of asking you on a date anymore. Of course, he couldn't help but feel like he isn't enough at times. But you love him, right? He can't let his insecurities win over.

And so, you are now on a date with him, on your birthday. He cares for a bit everything. He makes sure the sun isn't hitting you too hard, that you drink enough, and especially have fun.

You're the only one lucky enough to see him almost constantly out of his detective prince persona. To know the real him. He has his issues, and sometimes he may snaps at you. But he apologises and proves that he changes. He already does, but he tries to make sure you know he's willing to become better for you.

You're his light, and he can't lose you. At first, he even thought you loved that coffee shop's employee, but he felt lucky when you reciprocated his feelings.

Since then, Akechi would take you out often. To the beach, at restaurant, or even just for a walk. He wants you to know he cares, and he wants you only. He needs to be careful though, but he makes it work out.

Getting into a bit every attractions, he even ends up winning you a teddy bear. No one is ever too old for one after all, right? As he hands it to you, he presses a kiss on your lips, soft and tender, as if he wants the time to stop.

The sun sets slowly, and you get into the Ferris Wheel to end up the day. It's cozy, just the two of you. He holds you close, his nose in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “Happy birthday, my love.„

Why would he need to say anything more? Your heart races, and you look up at him with a sheepish smile. No one can mistake that expression on both of your faces. You're so undeniably in love with each other.

“I know I fucked up, especially when you discovered what I've done. But I'll become better. For you, and for us. So please, stay with me.„ he couldn't help but squeezing you tighter against him, as if you won't allow him time.

“I love you. So fucking much.„ he whispers as the sun disappears from view, letting the moon rise slowly. He'll always do his best for you, to be worthy of you.

Because he loves you. And he'll make every birthday from now on special for you.

·:¨༺ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　✮　☄. *. ⋆ ༻¨:·

It took him time to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of you. To allow you to see the worst part of him. To see the monster beneath. He was certain he'd lose you. And yet, you're still here, beside him.

William is more than delighted to know you aren't ready to leave him. To know you'll stay. He doesn't entirely understand his feelings himself, but he has them, and that's all that matters.

To say William cares about birthdays is an understatement. He doesn't make big things, but he shows his care for sure. So don't you dare think you'll be an exception.

He has been quite busy lately, but he made sure he'd be here for your birthday. From waking to sleep. He stays in bed with you until you stir awake. Your eyes flutter open, the first sight being his blonde locks.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead and lets you get ready while he goes preparing breakfast for you. Going downstairs, you smell the sweet scent of food filling your nose.

He serves you, as well as himself, before eating and letting you talk of whatever comes in your mind. He could listen to you all day long, but today wasn't that. He'd spend some quality time with you, no matter what.

He helps you putting on your coat, and holds your hand as you get inside the carriage. He feels your head resting on his shoulder, and he simply caresses the back of your hand with his thumb.

Getting into town, he dismisses the carriage for now. No need for that. He wants you to enjoy the place. If there's something appealing to you, he'll be ready to let you have it. But in the end, he's mostly the one who wants to buy you things.

A beautiful necklace, it'd go perfectly around your neck. Gesturing you to get closer, he carefully puts it around your neck and smiles. “It looks beautiful on you.„ his voice, smooth and quiet, holds so much love. Without hesitation, he buys it for you.

You walk hands in hands, past bakeries and shops, stopping when something would be nice for you. You're definitely spoiled, and it was unexpected for you. You aren't with William for his money, and he knows it. But today, he wants to make sure you'll remember it.

By the evening, inside the carriage to get back home, he lets you rest against him. It has been a tiring day after all, yet so thrilling. But the best was to come in his eyes.

Entering the manor, the living room has been decorated especially for you, a bouquet from Fred's garden waiting as well as a freshly baked cake by Louis. And they were all here too. Well, some like Sebastian aren't so happy, but they could make that effort.

He has planned it all, and it was worth it. For that smile, those happy tears, and those laughers and happiness filling the manor for the rest of the evening.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚︵‿︵‿୨✧༺♥༻∞୧‿︵‿︵‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He has never been much of a talker. Ever since you both met, he mostly listened to you, no matter what you'd say. And he has a great memory too.

Fred is a caring man, he just stays quiet. He doesn't want to be noticed, he likes his tranquility, despite the circumstances of his current work under William. He absolutely adores the idea of being in charge of the garden, though.

He doesn't show it, but he appreciates plants and flowers. And whenever you may search him, you always find him there. He's peacefully repotting some flowers, to make sure they can grow further.

His head snaps up when you ask him if you can help. “Shouldn't you.. be with the others, celebrating your birthday..?„ he's unsure. He looks at you with suspicions, but in the end, he relents. You must have your reasons to not be celebrating it with them.

He loves spending time with you, but he doesn't want you to restrain yourself from having a good time just because he's tending to flowers.

But when he sees you, right here, with a smile as you carefully move a flower, it feels him with joy. He doesn't show his love much, he does it through small gestures like making sure there's always some of your favourite flowers in the bedroom for the scent. Or to stay with you throuhough breakfast.

It's those small gestures that makes you love him even more each day. And you just want to spend time with him, especially today.

He shyly scoots closer to you, to correct you. “You shouldn't be doing it like that.. it can hurt the roots.„ he doesn't scold you, he just tries to teach you.

Yet, he doesn't move away once done. He stays close. Until he gathered the courage to press his lips against your temple. “Happy birthday.„

It's cute, the way he quickly walks away to care for other plants. But you just thank him quietly. The day passes in a blur, and without even noticing, the moon is in the sky, and you're both still in the greenhouse.

He holds you tight against him, the garden not over yet but it's too late to keep working. And he has cut a rose to give you, making sure to also cut the thorns so you can't get hurt.

“We should head back inside, it's getting cold.„ he helps you up, until you're both home. He even helps to wash your hands, in your sleepy state.

He never thought he'd enjoy gardening with someone so much, and yet..

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuchi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[theus-what-are-you-doing]

DAY 30: COLD

Yet another addition to @cinderellaboyincorectquotes and their anonymous submitter's "Last week of October Challenge". I thank you both for the prompts as always, It was quite fun to work on this one, especially as I had more time to work on it today!

With you guys seemingly liking the prior entry with the fic, I thought it would be good to do a less angsty oneshot to help ease those feelings caused by our poor scared Buddy yesterday. It admittedly has been posted much later than I intended because writers block held my ass in a chokehold midway through. Nevertheless, I made the fic a little longer to try and make it up to you all for the wait. As always, I hope you all enjoy it!~

(If you guys stick around till the end, you might get another art piece linking to the fic too 👀)

=================================

“Look like you’re Freezing”

Cinderella Boy OneShot || 1988 Words

Tonight was a special night.

It was Buddy’s first night of proper freedom, after all. The first night he had a chance to go outside after spending weeks smuggled away in the attic of the one and only Chase Everett Hollow, the first night he would be able to feel the soft autumn breeze on his skin or hear the soft crunch from stepping on the vibrant leaves that lined the streets. The first night that the chapter of his new life started.

See, a few weeks prior, Buddy and his key companion, Violet, managed to flee from the restrictive grasp of Ex Libris and the cage that they were locked within under his servitude. How? It was quite simple, or at least it was for Buddy. He was just waiting around in his cell for his next orders when he heard the door unlock and braced to see his master, only to see the face of…Deacon? He would soon be pulled from his shackles, encouraged to flee from the room. That's when he would come across Chase in the main hall running circles around the being he had grown to be so terrified of, purple key in hand and laughing. He would always ask how they managed to find the location and get in but it was always a mixed reprise about hunting them down over the last few years and Deacon’s brilliant plan to break in but not to get out.

Nevertheless, Buddy was thankful, even now as he stood by the window of the attic, staring down at the streets below with his breathing heavy and arms shaking. Despite being out of the control of Ex Libris, Buddy couldn't help himself, still having a deep fear rooted within, present within his nightmares. A despair that one day he would wake up and be back in that damned cell, or that he would open his eyes to the figure of Ex Libris looming over him, ready to snatch him and the keys back, to hurt his precious Chase.

Speaking of the devil, footsteps interrupted him from his winding thoughts, just as arms wrapped around him from behind and gave a cheeky but affectionate squeeze. A cheery voice met his ears, pleasant and always managing to calm him.

“What are you doing brooding up here?”

“I’m not brooding”

“Uh huh…~”

Buddy took a deep breath, turning around with his features still shaking. Such a sight caused the owner of the voice, Chase, to stiffen a little, eyes growing clouded with worry as he took his hands. He knew what this was about, It had been like this for the past few weeks and he wasn't an idiot.

“Still worried about them returning, huh..?”

This earned a soft noise and a following nod from Buddy as he sunk his weightless and lanky body into him, giving Chase something akin to a hug, but lacking any arm movement. The blonde’s arms moved up to wrap around his waist to make up for it however, just as his voice hushed down into a barely audible whisper.

“Well… We’re going to head outside together today…We need to get you some clothes. You can do this..”

They both glanced down at the oversized crimson hoodie that Buddy had practically lived in for the past few weeks, A strange phenomenon of never changing out of it unless forced when it needed to be washed or until he was showering, becoming an even stranger cycle as he insisted on staying in his towel until the hoodie had been washed and dried. As cute as the raven looked in it, however, he admitted he needed a change, both of them did. And so, with a moment's hesitation, Buddy nodded to the suggestion of leaving, soon pulling away and moving to slip into some shoes that he had actually borrowed from Deacon.

The two would make their way downstairs passing the keys as they travelled to the door, and Buddy couldn't help but make a note of what was happening with them. See, Chase’s hunt for keys inevitably made its way to Grandad Ralph finding out about their existence. Despite his initial shock, he did allow them to have access to the rest of the house after feeling a little bad that they were stuck in the attic, but only if they agreed not to cause any destruction (which in all honesty, they were quite good at somehow doing the opposite, leaving the rooms cleaner than when they first entered). They made quite a few games with their new found freedom, but they were currently making flower crowns out of origami paper provided by Prunella's mother, yet another person who found out about their existence, even befriending a key herself. 

Buddy made some sort of amused noise as he spotted Violet towards the back of the table, feverishly and methodically making flowers for her sister, Silver. She glanced up after catching sight of him, grinning with her opalesce eyes shining, and soon called him over.

“You're going out?”

“Yeah… I thought it was about time.”

“How brave! What exactly are you doing?”

“I believe getting clothes…”

“That's exciting! Make sure to get yourself something nice! And… oh! Could you get more of these paper things? They're rather fun to play with!”

Buddy nodded, finding it hard to not grin with her infectious excitement. He couldn't deny that ever since Violet had reunited with her siblings under the care of the Hollows, she seemed… So much happier, like the colours in her eyes were brighter and more radiant. It was nice to see such a positive effect. Yet he couldn't dawdle, with Chase watching from the door and unintentionally pressuring him to hurry up. He bid his “See you soons” to her and quickly got to the door.

The next events went by in an overwhelming swirl for the poor raven, all too much as he was pulled out of the house, pestered after meeting up with Deacon and Prunella, and whisked away to the shopping centre. Once there however, he would admit that the seemingly infinite stores were impressive at least, with most of his interest focusing within what Chase described as “Alt shops”. Many of the outfits there reminded him of what Violet was so fond of dressing him in back in their old life… and although such outfits were linked with quite a bit of negativity, he couldn't help but gravitate toward them. Nevertheless, he had managed to collect quite a few things he adored, including but not limited to: band tees, loose jackets, an array of villain themed jumpers and hoodies that he thought Violet might enjoy and boots that he only got because they made him even taller than Chase.

Before he knew it, the trip was over, and the three had made their way through the automatic doors of the shopping centre, leaving to what seemed to be quite the bit of a different environment.

Buddy seemed to stumble, pausing a bit as he exited, finally taking note of the changes around him. The sky had turned a deep orange and the streets were dimly lit by the warm lanterns lining them. But there were so many shadows, things he couldn't quite see.

So… this was night?

Of course, this wasn’t the first time the boy had seen the evening sky, having a tendency to always quietly admire them from the attic window. But to actually be out in it was a completely different story. Every shadow could hold them… he could be dragged in and no one would even know. There were those nerves again from before, causing his fingers to tremble. Deacon and Prunella had seemingly started to walk off, not wanting to get caught with the chill in the air and a little busy talking about a horse top Prunella had forced Deacon to buy.

But Chase paused and lingered beside his frozen friend, approaching quietly and snapping his attention to him as he drew him into a hug. Although the affection wasn't returned immediately, he eventually felt the raven hair tickle his jaw as Buddy began to bury himself into the crook of his neck. They spent a few moments like that before they both pulled away, Buddy's hands slipping to Chase's hips and his own hands resting on the other's chest. Feeling the beating heart under his fingertips, Chase suddenly understood what was happening. But they had come so far! Buddy was enjoying himself up to now, would it have been the best response to point it out? 

That's when Chase had decided, and in not wanting to bring it up and make buddy self conscious after they had come so far, he sweetly smiled before taking a different approach. Taking a brand new striped scarf that Buddy had gotten while out, he took a moment to drape it around both of their shoulders, earning a confused glance from the raven.

“What are you doing?”

Chase let out a giggle

“Just giving you a bit of warmth! You look like you're freezing!”

Buddy took a moment, eyebrows furrowed as some cogs began to turn in his mind. Yet they stopped after a moment, confusion meeting his expression again

“That's not… My shoulders aren't cold..?” 

Chase had to stifle a laugh at the pure adorableness of Buddy not entirely understanding what he was trying to do. He promptly pushed a little further, seeing if that could achieve his goal.

“Then perhaps another part of you is… Your legs, your chest..”

Chase's hands began to glide over his chest area, causing a bob to form in Buddy’s throat. What was that feeling? Like his stomach was flipping and wriggling… it wasn't unpleasant but certainly new. Chase only continued with his suggestions.

“Your face, your ears… maybe even your lips?”

So that was his plan, hoping he could distract him with flirting, strange but not entirely uncredible, that had worked in the past after all.

Buddy went bright red with the suggestion, mind lingering on the lips. He wouldn't deny that he had been wanting to kiss Chase from the moment that he and deacon had saved him. Scratch that, he's wanted to kiss him from the moment he started providing him with food within their book based adventures, ever since he slept in that damn hoodie when Chase first left it behind, way before he was saved. 

For so long now, he had longed to pursue him. But Buddy wasn't entirely sure how to initiate such a relationship, strange since he had seen so many books where the hero kissed the Heroine, so many initiated kisses. But none had ever been the Heroine and the villain... All he could do was try, lips parting as he answered 

“Well… My lips are a little cold… I don't suppose you have a way to warm them up, do you?” 

Chase couldn't help but bite his own lip, looking up with a bit of a starstruck expression, kind of surprised that Buddy was actually entertaining him. He nodded softly, muttering a “Can I?”. Once receiving a nod from Buddy, he took a bit of an anticipating breath before leaning up. This had been the moment that he had waited for, the moment he had… admittedly dreamed more times than he could count.

His eyes closed as he planted a soft kiss upon the others thin and cold lips, pressing into them and receiving a similar motion back. What was meant to be a sweet peck soon would linger, neither boy willing to pull away. Buddy's eyes closed slightly just as drew Chase closer by his waist, a warm and unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest and easing his anxieties and fear. His shaking finally began to stop, and although occupied with what was becoming an admittedly heated kiss, a faint thought crossed his mind. 

Perhaps he was finally safe after all.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 3

Part 3:

Liana hadn't seen Art for three days. Ever since they started studying at Stanford, not a day had gone by without his presence being felt. Even if just for five minutes, he would pop up suddenly and disappear just as quickly. Liana wouldn’t say it out loud, but his presence had started to grow on her. She was never the most popular kid or the most popular teen. She always had two or three friends. And Art, it's not very clear who he is in her life, but he's a figure that's there. Present. Breathing the air she breathes. Knowing the people she knows. Laughing at her words, annoying her with his. She hadn't seen him for three days and it's bothering her. So today, she decided to go to the open practice for the first time, and Art wasn't there either.

"Are you looking for Art?" a female voice sounded behind her, and she turned around. Facing her was Tashi. Liana searched for the words, something that was always complicated for her; finding words in front of people she didn’t know or felt threatened by. Right now, she needed to answer 'yes' or 'no', and all she could do was stare. "You're Liana, right? Patrick showed me a picture of you with the boys, and I’ve seen you a few times with Art. Are you looking for him?" she explained and asked again. "Oh, yeah..." Liana managed to find her voice, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. Unwanted color flooding in. "Did you see him?" she squeaked, trying to steady herself in front of the girl before her. "He just texted that he wasn't coming to practice today. Nice to finally meet you. Maybe we can have lunch sometime." She smiled briefly and moved towards the court, leaving Liana in the stands. A bit more worried than she had been before.

She knocked on his door three times. Then another three. And then six more. After the fifth round, he opened it for her. It was the first time she had been in his room, and he couldn't hide his surprise. "Li?" Art's voice sounded weaker than usual. "You didn't come to the open practice," she said coolly, looking at him and furrowing her brows. He didn't look good. In fact, he looked like shit. His hair looked greasy, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were sunken with dark circles around them. Art Donaldson looked awful. "What happened to you?" She gave his arm a light push, which made him lose his balance and almost fall, but he understood her intention and moved aside. He ran a hand through his hair, a tic she knew he had; when Art was nervous, frustrated, or confused, his hand automatically went to the back of his neck, a few seconds of that until he gets a grip and acts as if nothing had thrown him off balance. "You were at the open practice?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Stuck on that piece of information. Almost wanting to request that the sentence be engraved on his tombstone when the time came. 'Here lies Art Donaldson, whose open practice Liana Levi attended.' His parents would surely be thrilled. "For four and a half minutes, then I realized you weren't there." She said as she walked to the window and opened it. "Your room stinks," she stated, turning her gaze back to him. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" she added. Sure, they weren't best friends, but they were supposed to be each other's emergency contact. They were supposedly here together. He made sure to remind her of that once a day. And now, in a real emergency, he wasn't talking to her. "Because it doesn't matter, I already feel better," he tried to speak in a more upbeat tone, one he thought characterized him but failed miserably at it. Her hand was on his forehead, causing him to immediately lean into it and close his eyes. "You're burning up, damn it, Art." She moved her hand from his forehead to his cheek, realizing that the situation might be worse than she thought and beginning to think of a plan. "Okay, I need you to get in the shower, alright?" she spoke softly. He looked at her, his mouth half-open. "Where's your spare key?" she asked, without looking at him too much, opening the closet intending to find clean sheets there. Art watched her bustle around his room, and despite feeling awful, worse than he had felt probably in the last two years, he found himself smiling. Liana was worried about him. She would make sure he was okay. "Art, do you hear me? I need you to get in the shower, I'm going to get a few things. Can you do that for me? I'll be back in half an hour." she said assertively, and he handed her the key as she requested. "Please be done with your shower when I get back." She ran her hand over his forehead once more, almost causing him to surrender to her touch and close his eyes again, but just as she had entered like a storm, she left like one.

Liana went down to the cafeteria after making a phone order. She returned to her room with the soup and grabbed the bag she had prepared for Art. When she entered his room, the shower water was still running, so she decided to use the time to change his sheets and put the lemon, ginger, and honey in his fridge. He came out in a towel and looked at her, leaning against the doorframe. He felt blessed. His head hurt, he had sneezed forty times that day, and all his muscles ached, yet he felt blessed. "You didn't have to, Li..." he mumbled, and she turned to him. "Good, you're out. Get dressed and eat the soup. If it's cold, let me know and I'll go heat it up." There was a microwave on each floor, so that was an option. Art went back to the bathroom and put on long pants, unable to bring himself to wear a shirt. "I also brought you some pills I had. If you need anything else, I can go get it, this is just what I had in my room," Liana babbled, realizing she was behaving in an uncharacteristic way. It dawned on her too late that Art probably thought she was crazy. More than that, that he didn't want her presence in his room right now. She had invaded his personal space and decided on her own that she was there to stay, when he hadn't really invited her. He had done everything to avoid seeing her in the past few days. He sat down to eat the soup at his desk, unable to take his eyes off her for fear she would disappear and he would be alone again, wallowing in his own misery. "Is it hot?" she asked, not knowing what else to say. "It's great. Thanks, Li," he smiled sincerely, and she reached her hand towards his forehead again. "Can I?" she made sure to ask this time, hesitating and seeing him nod. Her hand moved from his forehead to his cheek automatically, and he sighed for a second. "You're still warm." Her brow furrowed again. "When you finish, take this pill, okay? It's supposed to help with the fever..." she added, starting to gather her things. "Are you leaving?" he asked. Art's voice sounded more desperate than he intended. He wanted to sound indifferent, as if he didn't mind being alone. As if the last three days hadn't been an isolated nightmare filled with self-pity. "You can stay a bit longer. If you want," he added quickly, saying the sentence fast as if it would make it vanish from the air. "Okay," Liana said and nodded. "We can watch an episode of 'Gilmore Girls'," she smiled. Every summer, she forced Art and Patrick to watch a few episodes of 'Gilmore Girls'. If she had to be stuck with them, at least some of the time they would do what she loved. She was sure they liked the show because sometimes they would make comments about it. Art shrugged while finishing the soup, acting as if he didn't care if she stayed or not. In reality, he wanted to smile victoriously because he had won today. No one could argue that Art was the winner of this day. "You can take a shirt from my closet if you want," he told her, and she nodded. If they were going to watch an episode of the show, they would watch it on his laptop, in his bed. She couldn't stay dressed in jeans, and besides, they had seen each other in much less clothing over the years. So Liana put on one of his oversized boxers and a Stanford shirt that was at least two sizes too big for both of them. Art looked at her and nodded for a moment, lying down in bed and waiting for the moment she would say it was too much for her. That despite all her good intentions, she and Art weren't going to share a bed just so he could feel better. They hadn't done that since they were six, probably because she wouldn't even sit next to him on the same couch. "We're in Logan's season, are you excited?" she asked with exaggerated enthusiasm and sat down next to him. He automatically pulled her closer. "Aren't you afraid of getting sick?" he felt like the biggest jerk in the world for asking only after he had pulled her that close. "My immune system has never let me down, Donaldson, and it’s not going to let me down today." She started the episode while getting comfortable next to him.

As the episode progressed, her hand found its way to his hair, playing with one of his blonde curls that, just like Art Donaldson himself, had grown on her. "That feels nice…" his voice was barely audible as he was close to falling asleep, his head half on the pillow and half on her shoulder while his arm was wrapped around her. Just before Art fell asleep, focused on Liana's breathing and her fingers in his hair, instead of the show, he realized he didn't need much to feel good.

heyyy there. How are we feeling about this chapter? I hope the slow burn isn't too slow for you...any thoughts? I know that Patrick wasn't here at all, but he'll have his comeback, don't worry. Also, should I do a tag list? It feels a little too much since I really don't know if there are readers who want to come back. I really want to hear from you so feel free to talk to me (PLEASE). By the way- I still feel like my English is ruining the story, but again, I'm trying. Thanks for reading. It means a lot ❤️

[hongssimi]

my prince one shot

ᝰ synopsis .ᐟ what kind of best friend texts you goodbye and disappears? the one-and-only hong seunghan. but no matter how much time has passed since no-contact, you realise nothing has changed. he's still the hong seunghan you know.

ᝰ pairing .ᐟ bsf!hong seunghan x gn!reader

ᝰ genre .ᐟ fluff, light angst // written

ᝰ word count .ᐟ 1.5k+

ᝰ author's note .ᐟ back in my tumblr era after eight years since deactivating… never written an au on here before but here goes nothing :)

this was it.

"mom, dad, calm down. it's not like i won't be able to navigate. it's still south korea."

getting down the car meant you were finally stepping foot in seoul. seongsu-dong was the neighbourhood you were going to stay at for the rest of your life.

it wasn't like you hated moving to seoul and living alone, who would've hated getting freedom away from their parents this young? it just wasn't part of your life plan, starting your last year of high school on a whole new slate, in a whole new place.

your parents had insisted on you moving nearer to the capital for a better life. they went about telling you reasons, one of them about how living in a neighbourhood more busy and bustling than ilsan was more beneficial for you in the long run. they believed you would get more work opportunities after university. but for you, this was a different kind of opportunity. it was a chance to meet seunghan again.

seunghan was your best friend in ilsan. he was the one you shared all secrets with, except one that you never got know the reason behind. why he never kept in contact with you, after vanishing from your side two years ago. not even a hint of where he was headed to, was left for you.

all you got was a card of apology and gratefulness under your desk, for being his best friend in middle school, and a bag of your favorite jjanggu chip snack. you wouldn't have ever known, if it wasn't for your mom who heard the news from the market aunties. the hong family had left ilsan to help seunghan's aunt with her restaurant in seoul.

not sure if i can even call him a best friend anymore, when he didn't even tell me where he was leaving to.

"meow! meow! wake up! it's 5:30am! meow!" you weren't expecting your new black cat themed alarm clock to sound that cute.

in all honesty, you weren't sure what time you were supposed to report to school. all the school transfer paperwork were settled by your parents… which you concluded that they likely forgot to tell you the reporting time, being too busy working and packing luggages with you.

it's like i'm in a korean drama where i'm the main character who has the cliché of a stereotypical transfer student, being late for their first day of school.

fortunately, guessing the reporting time based off your arts school in ilsan and the travel time from your place to your new school, worked in your favor. you arrived early and met your homeroom teacher to collect all the necessary items for school.

man, mom and dad should've gotten me a place nearer to school. it's insane that i have to travel almost two hours every day to get here.

collecting your class schedule and textbooks, you found it so crazy how you managed to transfer schools in your last year of high school. you were just a student from goyang high school of arts, dreaming of being a vocal teacher. how did you manage to transfer to school of performing arts seoul, a prestigious arts school in seoul, in your last year?

don't belittle yourself, y/n. you're extremely talented.

"wait outside, i'll call you in to introduce yourself to the class," mr kim, your homeroom teacher who showed you the way to class, briefed.

introductions make me nervous, but i hope all goes well today.

"y/n, you can sit down on the empty seat on the left. the third last row. hong seunghan is your seatmate, but the boy is absent today" mr kim instructed after your introduction, pointing to the two empty seats near the back of the class.

your class was weird. all of your classmates were either glaring or giving judgemental stares, both guys and girls. all you did was greet them in passing while getting to your seat, what was wrong with this class? was your seatmate some popular guy at school who's "for everyone"?

hong seunghan.

you read the name on the desk next to you. your seatmate had the same name as your ilsan best friend, but you didn't think much of it.

it's not like he's the only hong seunghan in the whole of south korea.

scanning the details around his name, you found that a bunch of mini crayon shin-chan stickers decorated the name on the desk.

cute. my seunghan's a shin-chan lover too.

looking around the class and the tables, you learned that everyone was pasting stickers of their own style and aesthetic on their respective tables. you took out one of the two japanese 'puri-kura' photo sticker print of you and seunghan from your wallet, pasting it on your table. there were four copies originally printed, but each of you took two each.

the photo sticker was just a photo the both of you took for fun, when 'puri-kura' was trending during those days. but it quickly became a core memory, being the only photo the both of you took since knowing each other in middle school. you know what they say about true best friends, they barely have photos together. both of you made a promise, to always have one copy in your wallet and never lose it, even if you end up losing your second copy.

i wonder if he still has his copies?

it was a week since you transferred and you still had yet to see your seatmate's face. you had no idea how he looked like, and you hadn't been able to make any friends to ask about him. it was understandable, joining an already established friend group was impossible as a senior high school student.

the boy had been skipping school since day one of your transfer, which you had not even the slightest idea why because you didn't know anything about him. you never gave it much thought as it was a normal occurrence in the school, some students were trainees or idols.

you were early for class that day and rested your head on your desk, feeling a presence sit down next to you and flopping his bag down on the floor. you knew it was likely your seatmate that you had never met before.

"who are you? and why did you take my 'puri-kura' photo from under my table and put it on your table?" he asked in an annoyed tone.

"the 'puri-kura' photo of me and my best friend?" you looked up annoyed, someone had just claimed your photo as theirs.

"y/n"

"seunghan"

the two of you said each other's name in unison.

"wait. what?" you were absolutely confused.

he hugged you immediately, with a smile on his face, "i can't believe it's actually you, y/n."

"but what are you doing here? in a SOPA uniform? did you transfer here? in your last year of high school? that's insane."

that was when you found out seunghan was a trainee under sm entertainment, an entertainment company that was coincidentally also in your neighbourhood. he was scouted two years ago after the entrance exams and trained for about a year since. he was on his way to achieving his dreams. dreams you once talked about with each other, you being a vocal teacher, and him being an idol.

hey, at least i now have someone to suffer with me on the ride back to seongsu-dong!

hanging out with him again felt like a dream. your best friend was back. he was a sweet boy who was like a respected prince. everyone liked him, teachers, classmates, juniors, even the alumnus were fond of him.

before you realized, you had slowly fallen in love with him. being oblivious was the best choice of action for you, not wanting the relationship of best friends to be ruined if you confessed to him. besides, there were so many other people you knew who also had a crush on him. how could someone not fall in love with such a kind-hearted soul?

he was a hard-working boy. he showed you his moves and vocals every once in a while and asked for feedback. he was truly the talented best friend you loved and supported. you felt proud looking at him, and truly wished the best for his future, even if it meant never confessing your feelings for him.

days and months passed. then came graduation day, the day when everyone would finally be released from high school. the day you had to part with seunghan again. but this time it was going to be different. you were going to make sure he knew you were always going to be there for him.

"i'm sorry for being a bad friend, y/n."

both you and seunghan were becoming adults, and had your own separate dreams to chase. he was apologising again, knowing it would be difficult to meet friends as his debut nears.

"never apologise for something you can't control. something that's not your fault. you're my best friend, and i'll always be there for you, regardless of if we're in contact or not. i'm not changing my number, so, i'm just a call away if you ever need me."

"even if one day, you apologise and go no-contact for the second time,"

"i promise i won't leave you, forever," you told him.

i love you and i truly wish the best for you.

you deserve the best.

my prince.

✶⋆.˚꩜ AFTERTHOUGHTS .ᐟ˙⋆✶ can u tell i'm depressed and miss seunghan with this fic? cus i am. also, personally, i think this should have badfic as a label… but maybe i'm just too self-critical because my bestie who read this said i had potential to write good angst😰

do not repost works © hongssimi

[papayatori]

Don't Blink!(P4)

LN4 x fem!reader

Warnings: None

a/n, we're starting to get somewhere, oh how I love a good slow burn. ;-; (Also please bear with me, I know these aren't entirely accurate, I'm simply doing this for plot purposes, thanks!)

Why the hell had I decided to invite Lando over for breakfast. I don't know what came over me, whether it was some random confidence or those eyes of his that could drive me mad, I was pissed off at it.

Night owls don't do early breakfast. I know this from personal experience. I also know from personal experience that Lando is a morning person.

This is not okay.

My alarm blared multiple times that morning, I gave up after the fourth time, deciding that Lando was important enough to get out of bed for.

I did my normal morning routine, skin care, brushing my teeth, all of the necessities, before trudging into the kitchen to somehow find the will to not only continue living for the next few hours of the morning, but also find the will to cook breakfast.

I let out a long, exasperated and dramatic sigh before carrying on with my brave quests.

Halfway through the deep and ferocious battle known as making pancakes the right way, I heard a heavy knock on my door. My heart skipped a traitorous beat at the thought of who it could be.

Curse my silly feelings.

I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel I had on the bar and quickly went to open my door.

"Good morning, darling." He had one hand held out to me, the other behind his back. I accepted his hand and allowed him to kiss it the way he had the night before, though not without a growing red color in my cheeks. He pulled his other hand out from behind him, revealing the prettiest rose I had ever seen, and he handed it to me with an expression that was probably just as pretty. The top button of his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a small portion of his chest for all to see. It distracted me from the rose for a bit longer than I had planned.

"Thank you?" I said finally, in more of a question than a statement. "Why are you all fancy looking today, and what's with the rose?" He grinned, flashing his teeth.

"It's our second date."

I could've slapped myself in the head, but it wouldn't have done any good. I had forgotten that we had agreed it would be our second date, even if it was mostly a joke when I had offered.

When I didn't reply, he stepped past me, brushing his hand against mine as he did so, and walked into the kitchen.

"Pancakes?" He said, a smile growing further when he saw the huge mess in my kitchen. "I'm going to assume that's a yes."

"You would be assuming correctly, Lan. Pancakes are an art I've yet to master." "If I die because of your cooking, I'm taking you with me." He looked me dead in the eye as he said this, no hints to whether or not he was joking. I threw the kitchen towel at him with a laugh.

"I'm not that bad of a cook!" He eyed me suspiciously.

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you."

I rolled my eyes at him, wondering back to the task at hand.

Lando helped me finish prepping. He even helped me set the table, too. Not only did he look the part of a gentleman, but he also played the part very well. I couldn't help but think that we were a family right then. The way that we talked to one another, joked around like we had known each other for years. How he had helped me clean off the bar we would be eating on, since it was completely caked in flour from my small war earlier. Things just felt right at home. Lando was starting to feel like home, and I was starting to look forward to his visits.

"Y/n," He started, pulling me away from my pancakes. "Look at me." He hesitated a bit, reaching his hand up to touch my face. His thumb brushed the side of my cheek gently. This felt far more intimate than the two of us had ever been, and while I wasn't pushing him away, it was almost terrifying how dangerously fast my heart was beating due to his small action. "You had a bit of flour left on your face." He smiled, probably seeing the tint of my cheeks.

"Thanks." I stumbled, dropping my embarrassed gaze back to my pancakes.

...

...

...

Lando and I were playing a very dangerous game. Both of us were dancing around the thought of the other, neither of us decided to cross over the fine line between friendship and something more than that. We had spent all day together for the last week, and when we weren't around each other, we were texting each other or tweeting back and forth. Lando had discovered that I posted on Twitter quite a lot, and he never failed to reply to any of my pictures with something witty or stupid, all of which would make me giggle to myself. I had hated actually admitting the fact that I might think of him as something more than what we were, which was strange considering we had really only known each other for a weeks time, but nonetheless, I still felt that way.

You can't really tell your emotions no, can you?

He hadn't stopped on the formalities, either. He continued to kiss my hand when he met me at my door or out in public somewhere. Especially in crowds, he would sometimes squeeze my hand, knowing how nervous I got. All of his small gestures gave me butterflies and sent my pulse so high I though I might faint. My chest had started to ache when he wasn't around. I had started to feel empty after practices had started for the season, though that also meant the race was getting closer.

As we stood now, the race was two days away. It was now Thursday, Lan's second testing of the season. So far, he had come home with nothing short of success to boast about. He always got really excited when he talked about the car or the team. Those blue-green eyes of his would light up every time the topic was even brought up, inviting him to ramble for hours. Not that I minded, I personally find it quite enjoyable.

I heard frantic knocking at my door, knowing it was probably just Lando being overdramatic. I opened the door in a hurry, not willing to admit it to myself, but I was excited to see him.

"Hi" He said excitedly, doing a little wave before letting himself in. I'm assuming he had just gotten back from his practice. It was about that time and he was absolutely drenched in sweat. He went to sit down on the couch, but I held out my hand in denial.

"Lan, you're covered in sweat. You're not sitting on my couch like that." I covered my nose instinctively as I had started to notice.

"Aw, y/nnnn, c'mon. I'm tired." His bottom lip threatened to pop out at any moment, I knew it was only a matter of time before I eventually gave in to his pouting. I wouldn't give up that easily.

"Shower, go, I'll wash your clothes for you." It was his lucky day that I liked to wear oversized clothing. I dug through my closet trying to find one of my bigger shirts. With a triumphant smile, I brought Lan a pair of my larger sweatpants and a baggy shirt.

Hopefully this would do.

"Are you sure?" He asked, questioning my offer.

"Positive, you have no choice if you want to have our movie night tonight." I was practically shoving him into the bathroom at this point, trying to get him in as quick as possible before I was poisoned by the smell of his sweat. "I keep some of my dad's soap under the cabinet, feel free to help yourself." I heard some sort of grunt of approval from the other side of the door, and with my mission a success, I wandered back to my couch, admiring my handiwork.

"y/n 1, Lando 0."

A breath of fresh air hit me as Lando walked back into the main room. "May I sit now?" I looked up at him, his hair still damp and frizzy, curls sticking to his damp face. He could not have been more attractive. Especially since the shirt that I had thought would be big enough, turned out to be rather short, revealing a small portion of his abs to me. I had to look away, nodding my head slowly to his question.

A blush started creeping its way up my neck. I saw him give me a look out of my peripheral. "What's the matter with you?" He asked, as if absolutely oblivious to the obvious. "Just excited for the movies." I lied through my teeth, and if he had known better, he made no effort to say otherwise.

We both agreed on the spiderman movie; though, we had to watch the ones with Tom Holland in them. Well, Lando insisted we watched the ones with Tom Holland in them.

We joked around for the first movie, watching it but not really watching it. Every now and then we would bump into each other, moving ever so slightly and brushing shoulders or knees. Each touch was like fire to me, and it made me feel hotter than I should have. The room got warmer every time he looked at me, spoke to me. I was starting to realize that my feelings really didn't like being ignored, and I was eventually going to have to acknowledge them. The second movie was even harder to get through than the first. My eyes had started to grow heavy, and I knew that sleep was fast approaching. I felt a weight around my shoulders and looked over to find Lan's arm wrapped around me, his eyes focused on the TV. I liked this a bit too much, I decided. His warmth dug into me like poison, my eyelids threatening to fall with each passing second. I knew that if we sat here for much longer that I would be a goner.

My head fell down gently onto Lando's chest, I felt it tense slightly before letting up like he had before when we had hugged the first time. His chest shook with a soft chuckle. Though sleep had taken me, I felt a small kiss to my forehead, causing a smile to instinctively spread across my face.

"Goodnight, darling." y/n 1, Lando 1.

[pinkworldone]

Hidden Feelings

yandere! Genshin x reader

characters: Cyno, Wanderer, Diluc.

Idea: you always say "good morning" and always talk to them, even if some do not say anything or just insult you back, you were in love, so you refused to realize that they were "evil", however, hear comments from other people and their friends saying that it was not worth it. You opened your eyes, stopping talking to them every morning and always being on they side, but what you didn't know was that these little moments were adorable for each of them.

tw: yandere content; mentions of aggression and death; not too much yandere here, but it’s okay

+Cyno Art! Sorry, I was having trouble drawing the part of Diluc and Wanderer...

CYNO

–You were just another worker who had been saved by him, you also heard comments from the incredible General Mahamatra, leaving you with an exactly delusional idea of what he was like and making you fall in love slowly. Initially, you always greeted Cyno out of politeness, smiling sweetly and saying "good morning" or other depending on the time.

– However, Cyno barely answered back, just a quick answer and walk away, not giving you much room to start a more normal conversation. However, you had not yet given up and continued, even trying to have lunch and learn that card game that he seemed to like.

– Still, his reactions continued... few. No right smile and I also didn't come to you, always waiting for you. Exactly for this reason, your friend decided to try to open your eyes and adding to the comments you heard from your colleagues - calling him an idiot for looking for an impossible love - you finally understood and decided to walk away.

– Cyno noticed the change quickly, it started with you passing by him and not greeting him with his cute and gentle smile, he thought you were just busy on the day or with something in mind; however, he continued for the rest of the week, you no longer had lunch with him or tried to play TCG.

– He didn't sketch that much reaction abroad, but he was extremely confused, did he do something wrong? Did it hurt you? Maybe he was too hard while teaching you TCG?! It was not possible, Cyno still remembered your smiles while you carefully learned the game and your cute scream when a character died or lost!

– So, he decided to go to you, observing that you were playing tcg with someone else, a strange feeling took over, seeing that person so close and still touching you to teach how to play. your reactions are so adorable, but it wasn't him who was making you have those cute expressions, but another person!

– Everyone noticed the change in the General's tone, Cyno tried to act cool and pretend that none of this had affected him, maybe you were just training to surprise him? Like: "let's fight again, this time I trained a lot and I'm going to win!" Saying all this with a confident smile that he loved.

– Days. Weeks. 1 month, 2... All right, Cyno had already been angry enough, it was not possible that you were trained for so long, he would challenge you to a TCG battle and win!

– Your dear friend was on your side while he watched you play against Cyno, he expected another reaction when you lost, of course your surprise was cute, but seriously you had to call your friend so sweetly asking to train more?!

– Cyno played against his coach and won, hoping you would realize how amazing he was!

– You didn't.

– Now Cyno didn't understand, he has an immense moral compass that could not be corrupted by killing a person out of jealousy, but making him disappear was a great idea. So the plan was made, now that your coach has disappeared, your only coach should be him!

– and no, you didn't go to Cyno. The man was almost giving up! But no, no, no! He simply starts to get closer to you, trying to show the small (giant) passion.

"Let's go out today" Cyno simply said on his side, did he have free time? You just nodded with a smile, maybe he just wanted to play some TCG with you...

– After a while, you began to be titled as "General Mahamatra's partner", everyone whispered when you passed by and also feared a little talking to you. Did ignoring him for two months cost that much?

WANDERER

– Being his partner in class was quite fun and irritating, but you still fell in love with his good looks and intelligence — even more so because of his looks, but don't tell anyone that! You always greeted him with a kind smile even when he grumbled and didn't say anything back, you sat next to him every day, trying to talk and even managed to, always with a smile that it’s too cute.

– You also paid attention in class, but sometimes, Wanderer would disturb you and take your attention, making the teacher fight with both of you, and Wanderer would continue, it's not like he cared!

– This lasted a long time, until one day he was a little meaner, calling you annoying and insulting you with all the horrible things possible, telling you to get away from him and you actually did it, with your head down. Wanderer was surprised, he just expected you to insult him back like always and sit next to him without caring! "Just being an idiot, come back tomorrow..." he thought, but it's been two weeks and you haven't come back to him, hell, you even stopped greeting Wanderer, you ignored his existence.

— Do you want to play this stupid game? It's okay, he's going to play this stupid game... He doesn't last, he's simply used to your cute smile and seeing you giving that smile to someone else?! your cute greetings to another?! no way.

— Wanderer is sitting next to you this time, making sure no one comes closer and leaves you two alone as it should be. disturbing you in the middle of class, pulling you to have lunch with him and spend the day with him; Even speaking for you, but not in a cute way, Wanderer sees the others approaching, asking if you are free, he simply replies "no" and insults them until they want to give up on life.

– — If Wanderer observes someone being too kind and silly by your side, that person will "give up" the next day, with a few bruises here and there. Forces you to hold his hand and act like a cute couple, are you uncomfortable? He doesn't care, you were always his from the first moment.

DILUC

– You were fighting indirectly with Donna, a woman who also likes Diluc, your passion for him grew so fast and strong, look at him, so strong and incredible, owner of his own industry! You were lucky that your friend always drank and all his get-togethers ended up at the tavern, always giving you the opportunity to admire the man from afar.

– You took the opportunity to sneak away and be close to him, not your drunk friends, you shared the same drink, neither of them drank wine or alcoholic beverages, you thought it was destiny! So I almost always stopped by and visited, hoping Diluc would be there. He wasn't there, but that's okay, you had fun talking to Charles!

– Then you started hearing the nasty comments, commenting on what an idiot you are, how impossible this relationship would be and that he didn't deserve you. You were just another delusional person blinded by love. Such comments made you stop visiting the tavern frequently, going only when your friends invited you.

– Diluc was quick to notice the change, you sat in the corner, just waiting for your friends to get tired or most of the time, you got up (this always made his heart warm, preparing the words he would say to you thinking about how he memorized your favorite topic), however, you just walk towards the door and leave the tavern without even saying "goodbye".

– He ends up hearing the gossip from his friends, some even told him that you forgot about him and that you didn't love him anymore, even calling him an idiot! It's okay that Diluc barely showed any reactions or happiness when you greeted him, but it always made his day better.

– You had returned with your friends, drinking your juice while listening to them chatter about something, you were still surprised that Diluc hadn't kicked them out; some fainted, others were very focused on a side conversation, you got up and headed towards the door. Only to be stopped by Diluc asking you to sit down and have a talk with him.

– Diluc could see you nervous, how sad your look seemed every time you left, he was happy when you accepted and sat down to talk. Wow, how long has it been since he talked to you? see that cute smile and clumsy mannerisms?! He loves you, damn it!

– It was just a contract, his parents would never deny him a marriage, so why not bring up the topic? And… Your answer hurt him, "no", Diluc had to accept it and just let you leave. He tried to ask for your consent, but it seems like you rejected him, it's okay, he can ask your parents for your hand!

[prolix-yuy]

A Gift of Light and Joy

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader "Conejita" (Plus Sized Reader)

Summary: Javi wants to spoil you, but his good intentions put you in a difficult position.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), cumming on someone, minor cum play, negative body image, toxic shopping culture, some angst, Javi is clueless about women's clothes shopping but he makes up for it.

Notes: Happiest of happy birthdays to my darling, my sweet friend, the indescribable @ezrasbirdie! I was planning to post this around November but I couldn't pass up a chance to give you a fun little Javi present. I am so lucky to know you and get to yell about stories together!

While in the two previous stories Conejita wasn't described as plus sized, I always headcanoned that she was from the start. There are a couple references to the previous stories, but you can also dive in right here! Like most stories this is me working through a few bad experiences of my own, and while Javi may be a little thick in the beginning he will get to make up for it.

Cross-posted on AO3

Continued from On the Right Flight and A Bearable Weight

“I have a surprise for today.”

Javi’s gleeful face ramps up your own excitement as he ushers you into his car. 

“I thought we were going to have a picnic?” you ask as he flops into the drivers seat, curls bouncing almost as much as he is.

“That was my distraction,” he says, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it. Your heart still flutters, even months after that first one at the stroke of midnight. 

Dating Javi had, of course, been just as much of a step off the deep end as you thought. Even being close by now that you’re back in LA for work and he’s hobnobbing with the Hollywood elites, some days getting dinner feels like making a doctor’s appointment. Matching schedules down to the half hour, groaning when something comes up. But it’s all worth it when the stars align and he’s on your doorstep with all-encompassing hugs and breathless kisses. 

At first Javi’s dates were low-key and low-stress - a day at the beach, movie nights of course - but as you got closer and closer he started to take you places that had dress codes and extravagant names. He always beamed like you were the only one in the room, but you’d been in enough spaces you didn’t belong to feel eyes and judgements skitter across your back. 

You could be poised, and knowledgeable, conversational and charming, but nothing changed how you looked. Javi was always dripping in Armani, Burberry, Brioni. Your paltry wardrobe didn’t stand a chance. Every new art show or movie premiere sent you running to a department store to find a new dress (pretty girls on their rich boyfriend’s arm didn’t reuse eveningwear) and inevitably you’d be pinched or poked or squeezed into something not made for you. Long minutes spent in the bathroom wondering if Javi would notice the bra strap divot in your shoulder, or the dark lines of seams pressed along your skin. Pretending you enjoyed slipping into a silk robe every time you spent the night was more palatable than the embarrassment of wriggling out of shapewear in front of him, or refusing to let him undress you in case a zipper pulled too tightly. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t hide your discomfort as well as you imagined. Sometimes you caught Javi’s concerned look when the built-in corset made you squirm in your seat, or when you winced at the chafe of your heels. 

So when he parks his car on Rodeo Drive he’s the picture of pride and sunshine. You, on the other hand, leave your stomach on the sidewalk behind you.

“I wanted to do something special,” he’s saying, muffled words bubbling up as your feet trudge to a gleaming glass door. There’s security inside, sales people scattered around holding hangers up to discerning buyers. “And before you say anything about money, I don’t want you to look at a single price tag.” Javi turns your face to him with a gentle nudge, breaking your doom stare through the glass. “I want to spoil you a little. You never let me spoil you.” His pout brings a little smile to your face, dipping in to kiss him. 

“We can do anything Javi. I don’t need things,” you try to deflect, hoping you can convince him away from the inevitable rejection you’ll receive inside. 

“Just one time?” he asks again, soft brown eyes imploring you. How could you say no? 

“Okay,” you breathe out, steeling yourself for the worst as Javi beams back at you.

“I thought this place would match what you like,” he says as two suited doormen guide you inside. It flutters your heart. He’s right, you’ve always liked this designer’s silhouettes and styles. It’s exactly what you’d choose…if you were several sizes smaller.

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” a small-framed woman with black plastic glasses and a bouncy ponytail asks. She’s dressed head to toe in the designer’s current collection, sleek black throughout with stylish red earrings that dangle down her neck. Her smile isn’t as cold as you might expect. You’d heard horror stories of snide sales people practically insulting clients to get them to spend more. 

“Yes, Gutierrez,” Javi offers smoothly, placing a grounding hand on your lower back. “For my girlfriend.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He doesn’t get the chance to say it often, but when he does you love the way girlfriend rolls off his supple lips.

“Ah, yes, miss…” the sales woman begins, letting you offer your name. You catch a fleeting look of concern cross her face. Her cheek sucks in like she’s chewing on it, smile still bright but eyes more cautious.

“My name is Melanie, if you’d like to follow me to your consultation space,” she says, leading you and Javi to a curtained-off partition with several chairs, a changing room and a pedestal that makes your stomach flip. 

“So what are you here to find today?” Melanie asks. Javi settles in a chair, spreading his knees and leaning back so sexily you can almost forgive him for the anxiety pumping through your veins. 

“Whatever my Conejita desires,” he says, and you’re torn between smacking or straddling him. Melanie turns her attention to you and you wrack your brain.

“I guess…a dress would be nice?” you say. Javi reaches out to squeeze your hand reassuringly, adoration so clear in his eyes. He truly has no idea it’s the most likely to have ease in the sizing. You might make it out with one and blame it on not wanting to overspend. Javi would get his wish, and you would make it out with most of your ego unscathed. Win-win.

Melanie leads you out of the space and into the clothing racks. The choices are sparse, a few items hung per rack in an exclusivity motif. As soon as you’re out of earshot she starts chatting.

“Your boyfriend is very sweet to be treating you today.”

You hum and nod, chewing the inside of your lip. Some of the pieces are very pretty, flattering cuts and classic shapes, but none of the silhouettes look large enough for you. 

“Does he…do this often?” Melanie asks carefully, and when you look at her you see an understanding that soothes you ever so slightly.

“First time.”

“A surprise.”

“Yeah, pretty big one.”

Melanie smiles at that, arms wrapped around an iPad. Her nails are very pretty tapping against the device.

“Let’s take a look back here,” she says, leading you off the main floor and further into the store. The racks are fuller back here, but not nearly enough to make you think success is within reach. Your chest tightens, but you put on a cheery smile when Melanie turns back to you.

“Men are just…so thick sometimes,” she sighs, and the sharp change makes you bleat out a laugh. “I’m sure Mr. Gutierrez has the best intentions in mind…”

You nod and finish her sentence.

“...but you don’t have anything here for me.” Her hands clutch at the tablet again, going white around the knuckles.

“We might have a few things, but they’ll be simpler. Not like the current collection.”

“Simple is fine,” you rush to say, her smile making your own come to the surface. 

“Okay, let me go digging. I think we can make it work. I’m…” She pauses to clear her throat, lowering her voice. “I’m sorry this isn’t fun. I hate it. I just want everyone to feel happy in their clothes, not…left out.”

You turn your comfort to her, squeezing her shoulder.

“I appreciate you trying to help.”

Melanie scurries off to the backroom, leaving you on the bustling floor with ten other women who could slip into anything off the rack no problem. Weaving aimlessly, you peruse the dresses. Each one holds promise, which only makes it more disappointing when the tag numbers run too small. But you’re keeping positive, searching for Melanie’s bouncing ponytail returning with anything. You’d gush over a mumu. 

“Excuse me,” comes over your shoulder, and you turn to another sales woman hovering expectantly behind you. Her brow is lifted high, barely waiting for you to shift before tugging a garment off the rack. She turns quickly, but in the split second before you see it. That stomach-dropping look that screams good luck slathered in sarcasm. Your throat clenches, hands coming to your middle and you wish you could just collapse into yourself like a dying star. 

“Fuck this,” you whisper, tears shining in your eyes as you hurry back to the consultation space. You’ll tell Javi you have a headache, that you’re too hungry to shop right now, anything to convince him to get the hell out of here. 

“Cone…” he says as you burst in, snatching up your purse and steeling your voice. The sunshiney excitement trades quickly for concern. “What is wrong? I promise the cost…” 

“Actually, I don’t really…I don’t…” You try to get out your white lies with an even tone but when Javi cups your face in his large hands your composure crumples. A fat tear breaks rank and rolls down your face, Javi’s eyes widening with shock.

“Conejita, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” His eyes darken a fraction. “Did someone say something to you?”

Your heart skips a beat, which you blearily file for later introspection. Resting your head on his shoulder, he envelops you in his arms. Orange peel and musk surrounds you, Javi’s soothing hands traveling up and down your spine. When your breaths stop warbling you pull back, wiping your face.

“I’m sorry…” you start to say, but Javi moves you to sit. He drops to a kneel, clasping your hands in your lap.

“No, Conejita, you are not apologizing for one second. What has upset you? Was it someone out there?” When you shake your head, his eyes soften. “Was it me?”

“Oh Javi,” you sign, squeezing his hands. Your lashes are still wet with tears, but you can see his dread so clearly. “I really appreciate this, all of it. I’m sure it’s flattered lots of people before. But I’m…me.” You release a big breath, the pain of keeping all your anxieties in finally easing. “I can’t shop at places like this, Javi, I don’t…they don’t make clothes like this for people my size.” 

Javi’s concern smashes into confusion.

“But they must have seamstresses in the back. They take your measurements, no? Find an acceptable piece and tailor it?”

The laugh you bark out is watery but it does raise the corners of your lips.

“Men have it so easy,” you bemoan. “I think the closest size I saw was still in the single digits. And even then, the numbers rarely mean anything.” Javi’s confusion only deepens.

“But how do you know what to buy? Surely the measurements are the same. Inseam, waist, sleeve length, how can it be so different?”

“Javi, I’m rarely the same size at the same store.”

Javi sputters. “That’s madness. How does anyone put up with that?” 

You giggle lightly, the tears finally receding. “I just go to the department stores. More variety, more sizes. No pushy sales people. Though Melanie is really nice.”

“But you are still uncomfortable,” he says, stroking his thick thumbs along the back of your hands. “I did not want to say anything, but I noticed. You do not seem to feel good in the nice things you wear.” 

You shrug. “It’s not perfect, it’s just…easier.”

His eyes implore up at you. “I wanted you to feel good with me.” Your heart patters, Javi’s face falling. “But I have made it worse. Please forgive me, Conejita, I truly did not know this would be so painful.”

You pat Javi’s cheek and give him a quick kiss. “I know, Javi. I know you didn’t mean for it to be.” A tap on his nose makes him smile. “But next time, when the lady doth protest too much, maybe listen?” Javi’s cheeks pink as he nods.

“Shakespeare has always been wiser than me,” he jokes as he helps you back to your feet. He leads you back to the front of the store with one hand on your back, and for a few seconds you do feel like the most beautiful person in the room. Women looking at you in awe, Javi’s fingers pressing in a way that’s subtly possessive. You could be lady Godiva riding a Shetland pony and not feel a lick of shame when he looks at you like that.

“Mr Gutierrez!” Melanie calls as she hurries up to the front to intercept. Her hands are empty, which is a relief.

“Thank you for your help, I just don’t think there’s anything for me here,” you say in a practiced tone that makes Javi pull you closer and Melanie’s eyebrows knit in the middle. She nods, extending a folded piece of paper to Javi. 

“I’m sorry they didn’t have something for you today,” she says, and Javi takes the proffered paper. He leads you out of the store and into the fresh sunlight of the street. Unfolding it, he raises an eyebrow then secrets it away in his jacket pocket.

“What was that about?” you ask, tucking your arm into his elbow. He shakes his head.

“Nothing important. What is important is going to get some lunch, then we are going driving with the top down and dinner at my place after.” 

“Javi…” you say with a little warning, but he tuts at you as his long stride pulls you down Rodeo drive.

“I know, I know what you will say, but bear with me because I am learning how to love you the right way. Today was not so good, but I would like to try and make it better.” He slows down when he catches your wide eyes and dazed smile. “What? What have I said now?”

“That you love…” the last words disappear on the wind as Javi’s smile crinkles his eyes.

“Of course, Conejita. Dios mio, of course I love…I love you,” he rushes out, barely able to finish before crashing his lips into yours. Wide palm cupping your head, you couldn’t care less that you’re making pedestrians part around you. Javi loves you, even if he’s a little clumsy about it. But when someone wants to learn to love you the right way…how can you not love every atom of them back?

The following weekend finds you in one of the lesser-used rooms in Javi’s house, sitting on a chair by the window. He deposited you there with a cappuccino and a promise to wait, so now you’re doing just that. Javi does love surprises, but you never expected Melanie to walk in the door.

“Oh my god, hi,” you manage to get out, standing up to shake her hand but are treated to a tight hug instead. She looks brighter, lighter than the last time you saw her, black ensemble traded for a pale blue button-up and floral patterned pants. 

“Javi told me it was a surprise, and I want it on the record that after this one he’s not allowed any more!” You sit across the little cafe table from her with visible confusion.

“I am a bit…lost…as to the surprise,” you giggle out nervously, which has Melanie opening a smart black bag and taking out folios and fabric swatches.

“I’ve been trying to get my stylist business off the ground and…” She pauses for a moment before making genuine eye contact. “And if there’s anything I was meant to do, it’s find people clothes that make them happy. So I offered him my services and he’s…well, he’s been very generous.”

Pride swells in your chest. So Javi.

“So what we’re going to do today is figure out what you like, don’t like, colors, styles, and then I’ll start building your wardrobe. Sound good?” Melanie’s smile is contagious.

“Sounds amazing.”

You don’t quite understand every step of the process. At one point she drapes color swatches on your chest like a bib and you can’t help but giggle. But it’s fun, maybe for the first time you can remember. She writes down that you hate side-seam zippers and skirts cut above the knee. That you love color but not too garish. And when you catch Javi pacing outside the glass door to the patio, peeking in anxiously every five minutes, your smile softens. She probably doesn’t write that part down. That’s written on your face. 

You can’t stop twirling in the mirror, inspecting from every angle. You try to scrutinize, but you can’t find a single thing wrong.

It’s perfect.

After the wardrobe cleanout, the basics overhaul, and the lengthy plan Melanie made, she asked a thrilling question. 

“What’s the first piece you’d like me to find?”

“I’ve always wanted a little black dress,” you replied, and her smile almost eclipsed her face.

“I have the perfect one in mind.”

She wasn’t kidding. It’s full and flouncy, smoothing in all the places you normally criticize and accentuates your figure in the best ways. The fabric is sumptuous under your fingers, just the right weight without dreaded sheerness. You can imagine yourself with hair done up, your favorite lipstick, Javi’s hand on your lower back, that possessive glint in his eyes. All of the excitement makes you spin three more times, the room tilting briefly before you catch Javi standing in the doorway.

“Hey!” you call out breathlessly, smoothing the skirt again. “It’s the first thing Melanie’s sent over. I…oh my god, I love it so much.” You turn to look in the mirror again, and in the reflection you see Javi’s mouth parted, eyes dragging over you. His fingers are rubbing together at his sides and…is he clenching them?

“She took everything I said and just found the most perfect dress.” Your thumb catches in the fabric and you spin back around to gasp, “And it has pockets!”

You’ve barely taken your hands out of them when Javi is on you, all greedy mouth and firm hand on the back of your head. His tongue demands on your lips, slipping inside when you gasp for him. Arm banding around your back, he steadily walks you backwards towards the bed. 

“Conejita, mi amor, eres tan hermosa,” he pants, his wandering hand settling on your ass and squeezing. It crackles between your thighs, white-hot arousal at how he holds you. Javi has always been generous in bed, and highly competent, but this is a side of him you haven’t seen. Maybe briefly when he asked you if someone bothered you at that awful boutique store. 

Before you can rationalize anything further he guides your hips down to the bed, teetering on the edge. He quickly drops to his knees and dives his hands under the skirt, sliding one knuckle along the seam of your pussy. 

“Javi…” you squeak out, but his touch leaves to curl around your underwear and yank them down your legs. The rip of a seam makes arousal gush between your legs, spreading them instinctually. He licks his lips before fisting your skirt above your waist and ducking down to taste you for too brief a moment. Your hips buck, teeth nipping at your inner thigh before he lifts up to kneel between your legs. 

“Javi, the dress,” you caution, and with a sweeter smile he shifts his knees to make sure the fabric isn’t trapped between. When his eyes meet yours again he plants a hand by your head and laps between your lips, slow and sensual. The clink of his buckle coming undone aches deep in your core, fisting his button-up across his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, Conejita, I just…cannot control myself when you look so beautiful,” he confesses as his fingers tease at your entrance. A choked whimper ekes out as he opens you up on two, pumping mercilessly into your clenching heat. He swears in Spanish into your neck, and your quiet whines grow to moans when his thick cock begins thrusting into the crease of your hip. His panted breaths start to take on a rumble, then a growl as his fingers match his shallow thrusts. Overwhelmed, you grasp at what words will make him give in.

“Javi, please, oh my god, please fuck me,” you finally manage, rocking your hips with his frantic pace. 

“You’re ready for me?” he husks, your vociferous affirmations drawing his fingers out to leave you achingly empty. He slicks his cock with you, lining up and pressing just the head in before he plants his hands by your head and just…looks at you.

“Dios mio, eres una diosa,” he breathes, all of the sweet man you love. Grabbing around his wrists, you roll your hips down to sink more of him inside. He stretches you so deliciously, filling your cunt and lungs.

“Take it, Javi,” you rasp, head tossed back. “Show me I’m yours.”

Javi bites his lower lip and looks at you with a depth you crave. Infatuation and devotion and a desire so hungry you want to sate him for hours. In a dizzying flick of his wrists he now presses yours into the bed. 

“Mine,” he purrs, and the snap of his hips as he buries himself flush draws a lusty cry from your lips. “My beautiful Conejita,” he grits out, grinding his hips deep to press punishingly into your g-spot. You writhe under him, legs clamped around his waist as he slides out just enough to punch back in. “You are mine, aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck, Javi, yes, I’m yours,” you beg, and it’s exactly what he needs to begin fucking you earnestly, scooping his hips to drive deeper and deeper. The friction of his grind strums your clit just right to tremble around him. Pinning you with a rumble, he fucks you into the mattress until his wandering hands can’t stop from palming your breast, rolling your nipple through the fabric. The spike of pleasure urges you to meet him stroke for stroke, riding him just as hard back. He grabs your chin just firmly enough to coax more slick to coat his cock, guiding you back to his demanding mouth. He steals your breath, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and groaning when you shudder around him.

“Not going to last, mi amor,” he whispers, lacing your fingers together as his thrusts lose rhythm. 

“Cum on my pussy,” you plead, and with a strung-out moan he pulls out just quick enough to cover your mound with his hot spend. It drips lewdly, sliding to gather in the crease of your thighs. His eyes are fixated on it, the brand of his lust sticky on you. Your orgasm tips over as he slides his thumb through his cum to press firmly on your clit. His name is all you can manage as pleasure laps over your skin, his touch grounding as he praises you over and over.

In the afterglow, Javi folds the length of your skirt well above the mess he made. 

“I will be sure to send this to drycleaning before you want to wear it,” he says, pulling a juddery giggle from your chest. He stands oh shaky legs and you glimpse his wet cock in the vee of his open pants, realizing you just fucked like college kids so horny for each other they couldn’t even undress properly. It makes you giddy as he brings over tissues to clean up, careful not to leave any of his spend where it could stain. When he’s finally satisfied he drops down on the bed, opening his arms for you to snuggle into. Once fitted together, eyes heavy, he murmurs in your ear.

“It wasn’t the dress.”

You hum sleepily, sitting up to look into his sated face.

“You are most beautiful when you are happy,” he says, the earnestness earning him another sweet kiss.

“I am very, very happy Javi.”

He doesn’t need to tell you that he is. It’s written on his face, and in his heart. 

END