#this is possible because of all of you - my friends

[thoughtsforsoob]

how ateez shows their gf princess treatment <3

note: I hope this work finds you well! I really want to make this look good so please let me know if anything should be edited. Thank you and please enjoy. 

hongjoong

you're his PRINCESS! he takes it so seriously too. he puts a ring on your finger as soon as possible and treats you like actually royalty. is at your beck and call 24/7. his fsvorite thing to do is take you to events and show you off to all his friends and colleagues. "this is my wife. isn't she so beautiful? shes so smart and talented too." will show you off to anywhere and everyone. he's just so in love with you. he also let's you into his studio and has a special chair for you and plenty of pillows and blankets.

seonghwa

dresses you up in the finest clothing ever. sure, if you already have your clothes that you like that arent from any big name brands, he's not gonna toss them out or anything. he's only going to add your collection. designer bags, clothes, shoes, and even glasses if you wear them. he'll deck you out in only the more coveted brands.

yunho

he will turn off any game for you at any time if you ask for his attention. he wouldn't do this for anyone else but you. you're his special princess so you take priority over his games. he also teaches you all about his hobbies and take you to all the cool pop up's and museums. if you want anything, he always makes sure to get it for you.

yeosang

takes care of you with everything! literally everything. he may be a busy idol but he makes sure you take your vitamins, do your morning and night routines, take a little bit of personal time, and everything else. if you're studying, he'll make sure you take a break. he'll run your a warm bath and make you something to eat after. he gives mother hen vibes but it's not in an annoying, naggy way. he just loves you and want's to make sure you're healthy.

san

picks you up and carries you everywhere. he's so strong and he loves showing off his strength to you. if you're siting on the couch, minding your own business, he'll throw you over his shoulder and take you up to your shared bed room. he also carries everything for you, especially shopping or grocery bags. his princess should never carry anything.

mingi

buys everything for you! mingi needs a gf that is okay with him paying for everything but he will literally lose it if you pay for him. he has the mindset that dudes should pay for everything and take care of their partners, but it's not like in a toxic way where he won't let you work or anything. he would just prefer that your money goes towards spoiling yourself (although you never need to because he spoils you so much).

wooyoung

i have two for him so hang on tight. wooyoung is such a romantic and i cannot express that enough, first of all, he drives you everywhere! he would rather get hit by a train than let you ride the said train all alone. if he can drive you, he is going to drive you. also...he lovesss taking you on 3-4 day trips around the world. he takes you to paris, tokyo, la, Shanghai....everywhere! takes care of everything too. ugh i want my own wooyoung (im so scared of driving please drive me!)

jongho

he lets you sit on his lap. even if you get shy or complain that you're too heavy. he lterally does not care. he will pull you down onto his lap and bear hug you so you can't get up or leave. he thinks you look so cute and just like a princess when you're sitting on his lap.

[haziells]

my way

until it reaches the void state

(this will be a long post)

1. the end, the beginning.

I knew about the law of attraction years ago thanks to social media, so there it was, like every day trying to manifest my desires.

I was fed up, every day was the same.

My heart healing and breaking everyday, the same cycle of hope and hopelessness continues.

was it always going to be like this?

would I always have to let fears take over me?

I couldn't trust, I didn't believe that just by believing I could get what I wanted but at the same time I had no other option.

I couldn't go on like this, I didn't want to go on like this, I just wanted to end my life, I gave up and cried, cried, cried thinking that this would be the end, that I wouldn't be able to be happy and that was it.

I gave up and thought I was resigned to living a shitty life.

But I cried so much that all the sadness that was in me came out, all the fears that were clinging to me came out.

That's when I felt peace, when I realized that no, I wasn't going to give up that easily, that I first have to do it and do it well, not keep trying.

So I persisted for only 2 days, as I already had my desire for that moment and yes, after 2 days my 3D had already reflected it, it was exciting.

did i reallt do that? was it just a coincidence?

No, it was really me.

I was happy for a few days until the fears returned but this time I was afraid of losing my desire, that's when I realized that fears have no meaning.

I already have it, why would I lose it?

2. I discovered Tumblr and the void state.

I didn't know what void state was, but as soon as I read about it, it caught my attention.

By then my self-concept had improved, I was still dealing with my fears but not as much as before.

So, I made a friend who explained to me more about the void state and she told me that she manifested her house through the void state.

I got excited and hopeful, I read some methods on how to get in and tried to do it, but I couldn't.

I couldn't do it, the simple idea of getting everything so easily sounded easy and fantastical to me.

But one day I realized who I really am, that I am everything, that nothing and no one has power outside of me.

I was filled with satisfaction, joy, peace, I felt like laughing knowing who I am and how easy everything is.

How did I first enter the void state?

so I had a subliminal audio playing in the background while I was meditating.

I thought...I am so powerful, I am capable of anything, I can have whatever I want whenever I want.

At that time I was very sleepy because I had taken some exams, so I just thought "my physical body is going to sleep and rest and I'm going to the void state"

After all, the void state is me and there is nothing easier than being me.

And so it happened, I entered the void state and knew that I already had everything just as I wanted, then I came out and continued sleeping while I didn't stop smiling and feeling a sensation of peace and extreme happiness.

I woke up and stood calmly until I realized what had happened...

I was scared shitless when I realized that I had entered the void state for real and that at that moment I should have everything I wanted and that was when 3d reality disappeared before my eyes.

Everything began to collapse and I felt a huge current of energy running through my entire body, as if it were a waterfall flowing inside me.

I was very scared, I won't deny it, but after all I did it.

(I swear that just as you see in the gif, that's how I felt at that moment)

The following days I couldn't stop shaking and feeling scared because I didn't understand how it was possible that 3D could disappear just like that.

Then I read someone here talking about non-dualism. @lotusmi

Then I understood my experience.

Since that day everything is much easier for me.

I have entered the void state 3 times.

that manifests?

.cure my depression.

.cure my anxiety.

.trust myself.

.longer eyelashes.

.my desired person in love with me.

.money.

.be able to manifest easily.

.prettiest voice.

.I am spoiled.

The rest of the things I manifest are more private.

But basically for me this is the best thing that could have happened to me.

I will mention who were the bloggers that I read to understand more about the void state and about who I really am.

@gorgeouslypink

@lotusmi

@beesfairlyland

@msperfect777

I will also mention a blogger whose information I also like and I find it cute.

@sugarplumfairy777

If you want to know more, you can send me a direct message, no problem.

[arc-misadventures]

Jaune being his normal kind, helpful lovable self causes women like Illia, Terra, and others to fall for him

LAJA

Coco: And, welcome everyone to the first meeting of the, LAJA. Lesbians Against Jaune Arc. My name is, Coco Adel, club chairwoman, and founder.

Coco: Now, since this is out first meeting we will each introduce ourselves, and tell everyone why you decided to become a member of the, LAJA. I'll go first...

Coco: I am a loud, and proud lesbian, I saw some guys, and I thought they were attractive, from as aesthetic perspective not anything romantic, or sexual. But, one day, I was trying on an outfit with my BunBun...

Ilia: Hold up! Your 'BunBun?'

Coco: Oh yeah, that's a nickname for my teammate, Velvet. She's a rabbit faunas.

Ilia: Ohh!

Terra: I like that.

Coco: Velvet isn't that good at fashion, but Jaune was there, he saw my outfit, and said no. Gave me some other clothes, and told me top try it on... and son of a bitch that was the greatest outfit I've ever worn!

Coco: After that, the two of us would go out, and do some fashion shows with each other, and some other people who needed a new wardrobe. It is fun, really fun hanging out with him. So, one day when we're having fun this random woman came up, and ask if, Jaune was single. And, Jaune was single... but, I said he wasn't... that I was his girlfriend...

Coco: I'm a hardcore lesbian! I never thought of dating a guy in my entire life! But, to keep some random floozie from, Jaune I said I was his girlfriend... I don't want to lose my fashion friend, my best male friend. And, I'm sad that I'm not... And, I really... I really want to be his girlfriend... So... yeah...

Terra: You fell because of his fashion sense? Makes sense, Jaune has superb taste in woman's fashion.

Coco: He did, I was looking at a wedding dress one day, and who is at the alter, Jaune freaking Arc...

Yang: Oh you got it bad!

Coco: Okay... You're turn.

Ilia: Okay... Hello everyone, my name is Ilia Amitola, I am a chameleon faunas, I can changed the colour of my skin. So, I was a former member of the, White Fang, I was a lesbian since I was in the, White Fang, and I hated humans on top of that. Then this stupid blond human just shows up, he flashes me that pearly smile of his. And, my body just changed to pink!

Coco: Like it did just now?

Ilia: Yes?! I just looked at him, and I thought how much I wanted to sleep with this guy! A guy, a human guy at that! It's just a crush, there's nothing more about it! So, I decided to learn things about him, I'd learn that one thing to make him the worst person I could possibly imagine!

Ilia: And, what I learned is that he is one of the nicest, sweetest guys I've ever met! He doesn't hate the faunas! He supports the, White Fang! To a point! He doesn't like the more radical side...

Yang: No one does.

Ilia: But, all I learned how a sweet caring a person he is! Then I saw him watch over some faunas kid one day, and the next thing I know, I'm thinking about having kids with him! This it total bullshit!

Coco: She's still blushing.

Emerald: It is a nice shade of pink.

Terra: Well... speaking of babies... My name is, Terra Cotta Arc...

Coco: Arc? Are you related to, Jaune?

Terra: In a way, I am married to a woman called, Saphron Cotta Arc. She is, Jaune's older sister, making, Jaune my brother-in-law. And, for a while I thought I was asexual, I was never interested in anyone. But, then I met my wife, and well eventually I married her. And, I'm happily married! But, then I met, Jaune, and if I met him before I met my wife, we probably would be married with three kids by now. Right now we only have the one though.

Coco: T-The one...?

Terra: I wanted a kid, so I asked, Jaune to... donate so I could have one. And, this is my son, Adrian~!

Yang: Oh gods he is so adorable~!

Ilia: Noooo... Don't do this to me, I've been trying to get rid of the baby craze!

Terra: And, well... I want another... maybe two... N-Next...!

Yang: Okay... glad I'm not the only one... Ahem! Hi! My name is, Yang Xiao Long, and I'm not really a lesbian, I always thought I was more of a bisexual. I always thought, woman, and men were attractive. And, when I came here to, Beacon the lesbian drive kicked into overdrive! I mean come on! There are so many hot woman here!

Coco: It's a buffet here!

Yang: And, my teammate is, Blake Belladonna! How many people didn't get a aroused , and want to smash that phat ass!

Ilia: Preach sister!

Yang: But then, Jaune Arc came around, and started acting like a big brother figure to my little sister! He looked after her, he comforted her when she was sad, he made her cookies! That was my job! But, all of a sudden big bro came in and stole my job! And, that's were all hell let loose!

Yang: So, I confronted him one day to leave her alone, to stop being her 'big brother,' that it was my job to do those things, because I am her big sister. But, he told me not to worry, since I was her big sister, and i would always be her big sister. So, he told me not to worry 'little sister.' He calmed me, 'little sister' rubbed the top of my head, and left. And, I swear to gods... I came when he patted my head!

Coco: Seriously?!

Terra: I'd buy that.

Yang: I don't like people touching my hair, but he just patted once, and he sent me so over the edge that, that's what happened?! I want, no need him to do it again!

Yang: I want my big brother to hold me in his arms, to comfort me when I'm sad, to run his fingers through my hair to calm me. And, above all I want him to spank my ass as he calls me his bitch, while I scream big bro as he takes me from behind! I used to imagine doing that to, Blake, and her phat ass! Now, I want, Jaune to be doing that to me!

Coco: (Whistles~!) You got it bad girl.

Terra: Really bad... Now tell us how you want him to do this, I need to know.

Yang: You're turn, Emerald.

Emerald: Okay... My name is Emerald Sustari. I am a lesbian, least I was... honestly I think I'm not that much of a lesbian, I was interested in my team leader. Her name is, Cinder Fall. She took me in, when no one else would, so I kinda fell for her from an emotional stand point. But, Cinder never saw me from that angle... she's more focused on how she can use me for her own gains. This often made me cry, that she didn't care about me... Then one day, Jaune found me when I was crying, and we just started talking. He became a shoulder I could cry on, someone I could go to for support, or just someone I could be around when I needed something.

Emerald: Then... then his mother came by, and he introduced me to her... And, I understood why, Jaune was such a nice, and caring person. And, I asked, Jaune's mom. Juniper if she would adopt me, so I could finally have the mother figure I always wanted.

Yang: What did she say?

Emerald: She said no.

Terra: What?! But, Juniper is such a lovely woman, why did she say no?

Emerald: Because she knows how much I love, Jaune, and that if I married him she would still become my mom. So, I get the best of both worlds. A mom, and the man I love...

Terra: Oh...

Yang: Now that's a good deal right there...

Coco: Alright... now that everyone has been introduced, we shall now begin the first meeting with the, LAJA. Does anyone have an items they wish to bring to the table.

Ilia: Yeah, I have one... We're calling ourselves the, Lesbians Against, Jaune Arc. But, how are we against, Jaune? I mean... we all want to sleep with the guy... that doesn't sound so 'against' now does it?

Coco: Uhh... cause I thought everyone would be upset, Jaune turned us straight. So, we would be against him, because of that.

Ilia: That makes sense, but in reality... we want to fuck him...

Yang: Yeah, we all want to sleep with the guy to one degree, or the other.

Terra: So how are we against the guy?

Coco: It sounded nice...?

Emerald: I vote we rename ourselves to the, Lesbians Attracted to, Jaune Arc! Where are new mandate is to help each other sleep with, Jaune to some degree. All those in favour say aye.

Ilia: Aye!

Yang: Hell to the aye!

Terra: Aye~!

Coco: Aye!

Coco: Okay, in that case I welcome you to the first meeting of the, LAJA. Lesbians Attracted to, Jaune Arc. First order of business: Who gets to fuck, Jaune first.

Yang: I move, Terra goes last, she's already slept with him, and had his child.

Terra: What?!

Ilia: I agree.

Emerald: Agree.

Coco: The ayes have it; Terra only gets to sleep with, Jaune after the rest of us do.

Terra: ...

Terra: Okay, that's fair...

[ignoringmyexams]

jason is in the kitchen after patrol the night before halloween, wondering if he should get some takeaway, when his phone rings.

"who the hell calls this late at night? its 4am.."

its your name. he picks up at once.

"hey, you awake? can i come over?" , by the tone in your voice, it seems like you wont take no for an answer.

"it doesnt matter" you continue, "im already standing outside of your door"

this is the only safehouses you know about, and jason has been careful to make you think that he lives there all the time. usually he wouldnt risk you seeing his red hood gear, but at 4am, he thought it was safe to head here, as it was his nearest and largest apartment. he really didnt want to run 10 minutes through the cold and rainy october night to get to the next safehouse, and so now he finds himself rushing to hide his gear someplace you wont find it.

"uh, sure, just wait and ill let you in" he manages to stammer out, feeling nervous not only because he didnt want you to find out his secret identity. he never thought he would end up in this situation that night he met you at that dive bar on the outskirts of crime alley. you were so obviously out of place there, hanging out with your friends, anybody could see that you were students from gotham university, on the hunt for a cheap beer. he and roy had quickly stepped in under the guise of being friendly drunks, to protect you from the leer of some of gothams underbelly.

since then, youd kept coming to the dive bar, and jason kept coming to look out for you. after a while he just accepted that youd managed to work your way into his life, and now hed drive halfway across the city to meet you for lunch after your lectures. at some point, he noticed that his gaze seemed to linger longer that it had used to, and by now he had realized that he was mad about you. something he hoped you still were oblivious to.

"i promise you, you wont regret it. ive brought takeaway!" you chirped back at him.

jason lets you in, and hungrily takes the bag from you. by now youve learned that dumplings are a quick way to get him to do your bidding.

"shouldnt you be sleeping right now? i remember you saying that you have an early lecture tomorrow, or, today i guess." jason asked you. in fact he knew you had an early lecture, because he had your schedule memorized by now, to be able to suprise you with lunch. at this point his brain blocked out other dates and appointments to be able to remember more about you, someting that got him in trouble with bruce every time he forgot training sessions, or family meetings.

you were sat on the sofa, taking up as much space as you possibly could, something you did every time you came over. jason watched as your face turned deadly serious.

"jason, what im about to tell you cant leave this room. you have to promise me."

"of course" he reassured, worried now, "you can tell me everything",

"you sure?" you shot back, "i dont want this to change our relationship, or the way you view me, ok? im still the same person ive always been."

now he was really worried.

"im batman." you said with a completely straight face. "vengeance never sleeps, and so neither can i."

he looked at you with the most deadpan expression he could manage at that point. you held out in silence for what seemed an impressive amount of time before you cracked.

"its true" you wheezed out, "my friends want me to be batman at the halloween party tomorrow, but the costume hasnt arrived yet. and so ive got to use last years costume instead."

the infamous costume of halloween last year. the one jason never got to see you in, as he didnt know you at the time. he hasnt even seen a picture, but the thought that you own it is enough to drive him crazy.

"and so i wondered", you continued, "if i, pretty pleeeasee, could borrow your leather jacket, you know, the one that maches red hoods perfectly?"

now usually, jason would have said no. no one touches that jacket. but its you. and jason was also invited to said halloween party. and if youre going to make him socialize, he might as well have something to look at while doing it. and so he throws the jacket at you.

"try it on", and you do.

although jason is taller and broader than you, you still have some muscle on you, that fills out the arms and shoulders of the jacket in a way that makes it look just oversized instead of akward.

jason almost wants you to keep it. the smile he receives when he lets you borrow it is all he can think of the rest of that night, as he eats the dumplings you left for him.

[sweetdispatch]

His special day - J. Hughes

Purple Chemistry | Previous Chapter

summary: Jack finally realised how much you mean to him after showing up in a hospital

warning: mentions of injury

words: 1.5k

note: last chapter has arrived!

---

For the next few weeks, the tension was visible between you two. Just like a kiss showed you that you’re more than friends with Jack. You tried to act normal around him but you couldn’t. Your feelings were going crazy while you were around him. Jack was lost in this situation. The kiss you shared was full of emotions and he didn’t know what to think.

Jack started to see you as a future girlfriend but he wasn’t sure if he’s ready for commitment. You two had different lives and opinions and he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic you two share. He was wondering if it would be bad to stay as friends. He didn’t want to take the risk of losing you because your relationship hadn’t worked out. 

The last game of the season between New York Rangers and New Jersey Devils ended up 4:3 which means that Rangers beat Devils in all four games this season. This match was way tougher than the previous ones. Jersey was leading 3:2 before the third period. In the last part of the game, they lost 2 goals and Rangers were celebrating. 

You knew that Jack would be bitter about the result. Last time he was sad over their 3:1 loss and now, he’s either gonna be heartbroken or mad as hell. You were at this game but this time, he didn’t ask you if he could come home with you. You thought that he had to be back with the team in New Jersey and decided not to push him to see you. 

The truth was that Jack was struggling with his shoulder and that’s why he didn’t come to see you after the game. He hadn’t told you anything about it because he didn’t want to bother you. He kept this as quiet as possible. Couple days later, he played his last game of the season before he required surgery on his shoulder. 

You found out about this from social media. You were scrolling your twitter when you saw a Devils post that Jack is out for the rest of the season because he needed a surgery. Your phone fell from your hand when you read it. You froze in spot. You were scared of him and his health. When you came back to your senses, you called Luke to ask him about it. 

“Hi, I know I never call you but I need to know what’s happening with Jack. I read that he needed surgery” You were rambling.

“Y/N calm down. Everything is fine. He needs surgery on his shoulder but he’s gonna be alright. He’s at home with parents to take care of him. Nothing to worry about” 

“Wait, he’s in Michigan? He hadn’t told me anything” You sighed.

“Yes, he’s in Michigan and he didn’t say a word to you because he knew you’re gonna be panicking. I told him it’s a bad idea to keep it from you but that was his choice” 

“Can I visit him?” You asked.

“I guess. I can call my mom and get the information in which hospital he is and send them to you” 

“Please do, I owe you” Luke laughed at your words.

Before Luke messaged you with the information, you went to ask your boss if you can have a free week due to personal reasons. He agreed on that and you ran into your apartment to pack your suitcase and booked a plane ticket to go and see Jack. While doing this, Luke sent you all the information you needed. 

The next day you had a plane. You were scared of Jack’ reaction when he saw you. You felt bad that you're doing this behind his back but this was to calm your nerves and make sure that he’s alright. When you landed, you took a taxi and went straight into the hospital. You didn’t care about the luggage you had with you. All you wanted was to see him.

From Luke, you found out that Jack had his surgery yesterday so he was resting in a hospital room. You stood up in front of the door and knocked. You didn’t want to interrupt him while he’s sleeping or someone else is in the room.

“Mom you don’t need to knock, I’m not 5” You heard and took it as a yes. Slowly you opened the door and Jack froze when he saw you. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I took a free week to check on you. I read that you had an operation and I was scared of you and I just needed to see you” Tears spilled from your eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry. I’m fine” He tried to calm you down. “Come, sit next to me” You saw a chair and sat while wiping away your tears. “You seriously took a free week just to see me? How did you even know where I am?”

“I talked with Luke and he told me everything since you were dead silent after the game” 

“Sorry for that, I just didn’t want to bother you” He shrugged but while doing this he hissed in pain.

“Don’t use your shoulder. You’ll make it worse” You grabbed his healthy hand and started caressing it. “You should tell me, I was thinking that you’re mad at me because Rangers won” You tried to lighten the mood. This time it worked because he laughed. 

“No, I was mad after the game but I could never be mad at you” He smiled at you. 

You spent the next two days next to him in the hospital. You didn’t want to leave him alone while his parents couldn't be there. You were only leaving Jack to go and get sleep in a hotel but even in this situation, he had to push you off the room because you wanted to stay. You saw that he’s in pain and can’t use his left arm, that’s why you wanted to be there for him. 

Jack finally could go back to his house and you were delighted hearing that. He was feeling less pain and you could get proper sleep knowing that he’s alright. You were hanging out with him in your last free days and helped his parents with everything in the house. His mum was smiling at the sign of you two but she didn’t know that you’re just friends. 

After a week, you returned to New York but still, you were checking on him every day calling him after work and asking how he’s feeling. It became tradition between the two of you to have a conversation each evening. Jack was thankful to have you by his side and he realised that all the time he had feelings for you.

You were always there for him, no matter what. Jack stopped caring about the fact that you might hate his team but he was sure that you love him. When you took off the week to be with him, he knew that he had to ask you to be his girlfriend. He didn’t care anymore that this might ruin your dynamic if things won’t turn the way he wants but he was willing to take the risk.

On his birthday in May, you flew for the weekend to celebrate with Jack his special day. He knew that you’re coming and he was prepared to ask you the question. That was the birthday gift he wanted from you. You meet his older brother Quinn and thank Luke for help. Four of you had fun this whole day on the boat. Seeing you getting along with his brothers was confirmation that he had to make you his. 

When you stepped out of the boat, Quinn and Luke went inside. You wanted to follow them but Jack stopped you. You faced him and looked into his eyes. He smiled. 

“Thank you for everything you’ve been doing for me for the past month. Actually thank you for everything. Thank you for being by my side in good and bad times. We might had arguments earlier but I know that you’re my person Y/N” 

“It’s so nice that you see me in this light. Anything for friends right?” You joked but his face fell when he heard the word friends.

“About that” He took a deep breath. ”You’re much more for me than just a friend. It took me long enough to realise but I have strong feelings for you and I want you as my girlfriend” He grabbed your hand and you didn’t know what to say. You stood like that for a minute. 

“You don’t have a clue how long I wanted to hear those words” You chuckled. “I would love to be your girlfriend” You answered and he smiled widely at you. 

Jack placed his hand on your cheek and pulled you into a kiss. First kiss as a couple. No more kisses as friends, enemies, situationship. From now on, kisses as a relationship full of love.

[ariaste]

Props to OP for answering so gracefully, but I'm not going to answer gracefully. It is more important than ever to call out fascism whenever you see it -- especially the quiet, soft, poisonously insidious kind that Anon is practicing here.

Anon ostensibly wants to know: "Do authors realize that they're writing about things that some people might find disturbing, horrific, upsetting, repulsive, or simply just TMI?" (Yes, obviously they know. Authors are not stupid; that's usually a requirement of the job (not always. But usually).)

But what Anon is actually asking is, "Why don't authors stop themselves from doing a Bad Thing? Why doesn't anyone else stop them?" The assumption underlying that question is: "Surely if they realized that they were doing something disgusting, they would stop immediately." Even more covertly implied: "I think writing about certain things automatically taints you with moral degeneracy--that is, it marks you as a possible or potential criminal."

To that I say: My friend, writing is just thoughts copied onto paper, and thinking is not a crime. Only actual actions can be crimes. What does it matter what other people think about? Literally so what? Why do you want people to be stopped from thinking about those things ("did their editors ever gently ask them...")? Why do you care? Do you feel that an author should provide a list of justifications and excuses before it's permissible for them to write about something? Why? And who do you think should be in charge of that? The government???? YOU???????

To any person reading this post: If the above questions are personally upsetting to you, if you find yourself huffily thinking something like, "Well, I care because it could normalize--", NOPE, STOP RIGHT THERE. 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩 This is a big red flag: You (much like the Anon) are exhibiting some early warning signs of Fascism, and that is not something to take lightly in the current political climate. There are some drugs you shouldn't experiment with even once, and fascism is one of them. Repeat as often as needed: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS THOUGHTCRIME. WE DO NOT LIVE IN GEORGE ORWELL'S 1984.

But we already talk about thoughtcrimes now and then, don't we? I can't remember seeing someone talking about crimestop (also from Orwell's 1984):

In the Newspeak vocabulary, the word crimestop denotes the citizen's instinctive desire to rid himself of unwanted, incorrect thoughts (personal and political), the discovery of which, by the Thinkpol [Thought Police], would lead to detection and arrest, transport to and interrogation at Miniluv (Ministry of Love). The protagonist, Winston Smith, describes crimestop as a conscious process of self-imposed cognitive dissonance: The mind should develop a blind spot whenever a dangerous thought presented itself. The process should be automatic, instinctive. Crimestop, they called it in Newspeak. . . . He set to work to exercise himself in crimestop. He presented himself with propositions—'the Party says the Earth is flat', 'the Party says that ice is heavier than water'—and trained himself in not seeing or not understanding the arguments that contradicted them. Moreover, from the perspective of Oceania's principal enemy of the state, in the history book The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism, Emmanuel Goldstein said that: Crimestop means the faculty of stopping short, as though by instinct, at the threshold of any dangerous thought. It includes the power of not grasping analogies, of failing to perceive logical errors, of misunderstanding the simplest arguments if they are inimical to Ingsoc, and of being bored or repelled by any train of thought which is capable of leading in a heretical direction. Crimestop, in short, means protective stupidity.

Read that twice, and then reread the Anon's question. Translate it through that lens: "Why," says the Anon, delicately disgusted, "are these authors not practicing better crimestop? I practice it all the time. Why aren't they?"

Great question, Anon. Why AREN'T they? Turn off your crimestop and give it some real thought.

(Hint: If the answer you come up with is "Because they are moral degenerates" or anything in that neighborhood, you are unfortunately still doing fascism. Try again. If you have tried several times and the only answer you can manage to come up with is a still a synonym of "moral degeneracy" then this is above my paygrade and I would recommend talking to a trusted grownup, a therapist, a spiritual leader, or possibly your least-online friend.)

Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?

Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.

Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!

But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"

Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.

I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.

Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.

But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.

Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.

Also, we don't censor words here.

[cherry-smokes]

Can't keep my eyes hands off of you.

AKA the time this title spoke for itself. Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 750 Note: This lives within the Sugar and Steve universe but can definitely be read as a stand alone blurb! Warnings: drinking, PDA, and Sugar and Steve getting a little hot and heavy at the bar. Nothing crazy but please MNDI!!!!! 18+

Your skin feels slick. The air is humid and your shirt sticks to your skin. You smell like sweat and beer thanks to Eddie. When you all walked off stage your lovely, doting, proud boyfriend greeted you with a round of beers. One of which Eddie grabbed, opened, and proceeded to swing around in celebration of a good fucking show. You can't blame him. It was a really good show. The kind that has your blood pumping and your confidence at an all time high.

Despite all of the sweat and beer, all of these things scream sex appeal because apparently Steve can’t keep his paws off of you. You’re trying to stay engaged in the story Robins sharing with the group but he’s pressed against your back and his chin is digging into your shoulder. He reaches around you, covering your hand with his own as he guides you to bring your beer up to his lips.

You give him the meanest side eye, your eyebrows scrunch together and he smiles slightly making some beer drip down his chin. You think you must be a sick twisted person because you get the urge to lean in and clean him off yourself.

“Can you stop eye-fucking each other, I’m still talking you know?”

You quickly pull your beer away accidentally knocking against Steve’s front teeth. You flinch and reach your empty hand up to his mouth to soothe the ache. He slightly bites your fingers and you pull back before he can get any ideas, or maybe before you do.

“Shit! Sorry. Sorry Robin I’m listening- we’re listening.”

Steve wipes his chin on your shirt and looks up at Robin.

“I definitely wasn’t.”

You elbow him softly causing him to grunt and lean forward even more.

Eddie wraps an arm around Robin and starts guiding everyone to the pin ball machines across the room.

“C’mon Buckley. We can finish the story away from these goddamn heathens.”

You flip him off as they walk away before turning towards your wounded boyfriend.

“You’re so mean to me baby.”

The way he says it makes you almost believe him. Yet, he has this hungry look in his eyes and his big hands feel tight on your waist.

“Mhm. You like it when I’m mean.”

He nods gently, one of his hands moves towards your belt buckle. He grabs it harshly and pulls you towards him, chests pressed against each other as his other hand travels to settle itself in your back pocket.

If you were a more...discreet person you would push him away. You'd blush and look away and follow your friends to play those loud creaky pinball machines. You aren't a discreet person though.

You let Steve pull you in and kiss the fucking daylights out of you. He's so warm against you. He doesn't hesitate to let his tongue ease over your bottom lip and he groans when you meet him halfway with ardency. He lets out a soft groan, you feel the rumble of his chest against your own as his hand grips you through your jeans. You can't help but reach up to grab onto the collar of his shirt, pulling at it as if you could be any closer to him. The tips of your fingers graze the coarse hair on his chest and you're burning.

The hand he had on your belt finally lets go and travels upwards. He grazes your shirt, slightly riding it up as he trails his hand up to the back of your head. His lips are desperate against yours, and you can feel his breath hitting your face as he inhales and exhales deeply, trying to avoid leaning away as much as possible.

You beat him to it however. Yearning to look at your sweet, desperate, pretty boy. You lean back and see that his eyes are hooded, lips swollen and red. You realize now that it isn't the adrenaline from playing a show that's got you hot and bothered. It's him.

"Where'd you go baby?"

Baby. Babybabybaby, you go crazy when he calls you that. Baby, honey, sweetheart, Sugar. All things that sound so sweet. You want to take him away from this bar and be anything but sweet to him.

"I didn't go anywhere. Do you want to go somewhere big guy?"

His eyes go wide, his mouth drops a little and he suddenly looks like a teenager who just saw tits for the first time before he speaks.

"God, yes."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

okay not that he needs it but what a ego boost it would be if sebastian stumbled upon mc and ominis talking about the guy she likes and she just like he's so out of my league listing positive traits (cue sebastian getting very jealous) Only for ominis to be like just tell sebastian then I don't have to hear you wine about it all the timee

Eavesdropping | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Thank you for the request Anon! I hope you love it!!! :")

Words: ~4,600

Tags: Love Confessions, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

The stone door of the Undercroft groaned softly as Sebastian pushed it open, stepping carefully inside. He exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing for the first time all day. He had snuck out after curfew, hoping to release some pent-up frustration with a few dueling spells.

He was halfway down the stairs when he froze. Voices—two of them—floated up from below.

Sebastian frowned, his grip tightening on the banister. He recognized them instantly. You and Ominis.

What were you doing here so late? He edged closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“I just don’t see the point,” your voice echoed softly. “It’s not like anything’s ever going to happen.”

Sebastian froze mid-step, his grip tightening on the banister. His brow furrowed. What wasn’t going to happen?

“It won’t if you keep dragging your feet,” Ominis replied, his tone dry as ever.

“It’s not that simple,” you shot back warily.

Sebastian tilted his head, curiosity sparking to life alongside a strange, uneasy feeling in his chest. You sounded frustrated—almost pained. What could possibly have you so worked up?

“It is that simple. You’ve been in love with him for years,” Ominis said, his tone cutting. “Merlin, I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve had this conversation. Either do something about it, or stop talking about it.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped. In love? You’d never mentioned anyone. Not once.

“There's nothing I can do, Ominis,” you said, exasperated. “He doesn’t see me like that.”

Sebastian’s stomach twisted painfully. Who was this mysterious he? Why hadn’t you told him about this before? You usually told him everything.

“And how would you know?” Ominis challenged.

“Because I know him,” you replied firmly. “We’re best friends!”

Sebastian’s chest tightened, a painful mix of jealousy and confusion swirling inside him. Best friends? You were his best friend. Who could possibly come before him in your life?

“Right,” Ominis said sarcastically. “Because you’re so unremarkable.”

“Ominis,” you groaned, “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he shot back. “Half the school is in love with you, and you’re acting like you’re some invisible wallflower.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Ominis wasn’t wrong. People were drawn to you—how could they not be? But you’d never seemed to notice, much less care. And now you were sitting here, pouring your heart out about someone who clearly wasn’t him.

You sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and tinged with a hint of defeat. “It doesn’t matter what the rest of the school thinks when he’s completely out of my league, Ominis. With his stupidly handsome face and that ridiculous smile that makes it impossible to think straight…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Merlin, he’s just… he’s everything. Funny, clever, brave, loyal—he could have anyone he wanted.”

For a moment, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under Sebastian’s feet. How could you possibly think that? How could you believe, even for a second, that you weren’t good enough for whoever this bloke was? And the worst part—the part that made his chest ache—was that he couldn’t step in. He couldn’t tell you how wrong you were because he wasn’t supposed to be listening this in the first place.

“And?” Ominis prompted.

“And what?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“You’re always going on about how wonderful he is, which, I’ll admit, I struggle to agree with,” Ominis said with a dry chuckle. “But you never actually tell me how he makes you feel. Isn’t that the important part? Does it matter how... how handsome and funny he is if he doesn't make you feel something special?”

You hesitated, your voice soft and uncertain when you finally spoke. “He… I don’t know. He makes me feel safe, Ominis. Like no matter what’s going on, as long as he’s there, I’ll be okay. And he makes me feel seen. Really seen. Like I don’t have to be the ‘hero of Hogwarts’ or ‘the girl with ancient magic.’ I don’t have to be anything except… me. He knows me in a way nobody else does. And when I’m with him, it’s like—for once—I don’t have to prove anything.”

Sebastian’s chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t just jealousy—it was something deeper, more painful. Because that’s how he felt about you. You were his safe place, the one person who saw him as more than the brash, reckless troublemaker everyone else thought he was.

And now… now he was realizing that someone else held that place for you.

Ominis huffed a laugh, breaking the silence that followed your confession. “You know, it’s almost tragic.”

You glanced at him, confused. “What’s tragic?”

“That it’s him you’ve fallen for,” Ominis said, his voice laced with dry amusement. “Of all the people in Hogwarts—all the people who would gladly worship the ground you walk on—you’ve managed to lose your head over the most chaotic, reckless, insufferable person I know.”

Your jaw dropped, and a laugh bubbled out of you despite your embarrassment. “Ominis!”

“I’m serious,” he said, smirking. “You could have anyone. Anyone. And yet you’ve decided to pine after someone who probably doesn’t even realize you feel this way because he’s too busy rushing headlong into whatever absurd plan pops into his head.”

You groaned again, shaking your head. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Well, I do,” he replied, grinning. “Because clearly, he’s too thick to notice, and you’re too stubborn to tell him. I’m the one stuck in the middle of this ridiculous mess, forced to play mediator while you both dance around each other like idiots.”

Sebastian felt like his chest was going to collapse. The way Ominis spoke so casually about this guy—teasing, almost affectionate—was like a knife twisting deeper into his gut. Whoever you were in love with wasn’t just close to you. They were close to Ominis, too.

Who the hell is it?

Sebastian's mind raced through the possibilities, his thoughts a chaotic mess of jealousy and dread. It had to be someone you spent a lot of time with, someone you trusted enough to feel safe around, someone who was close enough to Ominis that he could make jokes about their recklessness.

And then it clicked.

Garreth Weasley.

Sebastian’s stomach dropped. Of course it was Garreth. It made perfect sense.

Garreth was charming, clever, and funny. He had that easygoing, confident smile that always seemed to draw people in. He was loyal, too—always ready to back up his friends, even if it meant landing himself in trouble. And he had that playful, carefree energy that made everyone want to be around him.

Sebastian felt sick.

Of course she loves Garreth. Why wouldn’t she?

He thought back to all the times he’d seen the two of you together—laughing in the Great Hall, chatting during potions class, exchanging those little looks that he’d tried to tell himself didn’t mean anything.

But they did mean something, didn’t they?

And then there was Ominis. Ominis liked Garreth well enough, didn’t he? He put up with Garreth’s antics, even joined in on the occasional joke. If you were in love with Garreth, it explained why Ominis was teasing you so mercilessly.

It all fit together too perfectly.

Sebastian gritted his teeth. He wanted to hate Garreth—wanted to hate him for being everything Sebastian wasn’t, for being the kind of person you could fall for so easily.

But he couldn’t hate Garreth. Not really. It wasn’t Garreth’s fault that he was so damn likable. It wasn’t Garreth’s fault that Sebastian had been too much of a coward to tell you how he felt.

He pressed his back against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes and letting out a slow, shaky breath.

I’ve lost her, he thought bitterly. I never even had her, and I’ve already lost her.

“It’s not like I have a choice, Ominis,” you continued on, your voice quieter now, tinged with frustration and something far more raw. “If I could stop loving him, don’t you think I would have by now? Believe me, I’ve tried,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve told myself it’s just a stupid crush, that it doesn’t matter, but it does. And no matter what I do, I can’t… I can’t make it go away.”

“Then why don’t you tell him?” Ominis asked, his tone softer now, almost coaxing. “What are you so afraid of?”

You groaned, the sound laden with frustration. “Because it doesn’t matter! He doesn’t like me back, Ominis. I’d destroy our friendship for nothing!”

Sebastian’s heart clenched painfully, the bitter sting of your self-doubt twisting something deep inside him. How could you think so little of yourself? How could you not see what he saw when he looked at you?

Ominis let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think he deserves you,” he muttered. “Merlin knows he’s well aware he doesn’t deserve you. But you can’t decide his feelings for him. That’s not how it works.”

You scoffed. “Your point?”

“I’m just saying,” Ominis replied, his tone exasperated, “that you’re doing both of you a disservice. It’s… it’s getting to the point where something has to give. Either you tell him how you feel, or—”

“Or what?” you interrupted, glaring at him.

“Or I will,” Ominis said firmly, his expression unyielding.

You gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Ominis said, his smirk returning. “I’m tired of watching you both suffer in silence. Merlin knows Sebastian’s too dense to work it out on his own. Maybe hearing it outright will knock some sense into him.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped.

It’s me.

The thought hit Sebastian like a stunning spell, freezing him in place as the pieces of the conversation finally fell into place. Every word, every hint, every exasperated sigh from Ominis—it all pointed to the same answer, one that he’d been too blind, too self-critical, to see.

You were talking about him.

You were in love with him.

His breath hitched, and his grip on the banister tightened as his heart pounded so loudly he was certain you and Ominis would hear it. The jealousy, the doubt, the sharp ache in his chest—all of it melted away, replaced by a dizzying mix of disbelief, relief, and something far brighter: hope. Because you loved him.

“I mean it,” Ominis was saying now, his tone both firm and teasing. “If you won’t tell him, I will. Frankly, I’m tired of sitting through these endless heart-to-hearts when the solution is so obvious.”

You groaned, your frustration evident. “Ominis, I swear—”

“Do it, or I’ll make it the most public confession Hogwarts has ever seen,” Ominis threatened, though the smirk on his face made it clear he was only half-serious.

Sebastian couldn’t stay silent any longer. His feet moved before his mind caught up, carrying him down the remaining steps until he was standing in the open, his gaze fixed on you.

“Ominis won’t have to say a word,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside him.

You and Ominis both turned toward him, your expression contorting into shock while Ominis grinned.

“Sebastian,” you breathed, your eyes wide.

Ominis crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “Ah, there you are."

Sebastian ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “Is it true?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Everything you just said… is it true?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out at first. Your gaze flickered to Ominis, as if silently cursing him, before returning to Sebastian. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” he admitted, taking a step closer.

You flushed, your hands twisting nervously at your sides. “Sebastian, I—”

“Just tell me,” he interrupted gently, his eyes searching yours. “Please.”

You hesitated for a moment, your breath hitching, before finally nodding. “Yes."

For a moment, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He just stood there, staring at you, his heart so full he thought it might burst. And then, without thinking, he reached for your hands, his grip firm but gentle.

“You’re in love with me?”

Your cheeks burned, but you held his gaze, your voice trembling as you said, “I am."

“I love you, too,” he said simply, the words spilling from his lips like they’d been waiting years to be spoken. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember."

Tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. “You… you do?”

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “I do. More than anything.”

Ominis cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Well, now that that’s settled, perhaps you two can finally stop making my life so unbearably dramatic.”

Sebastian shot him a look, but there was no real anger behind it. For once, he was too happy, too relieved to care about Ominis’ meddling.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything left unsaid finally lifted. And then, with a soft, almost hesitant smile, Sebastian tilted his head and closed the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was as gentle as it was certain.

When the kiss broke, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, his smile soft but unshakably certain. “You’re stuck with me now,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. And as you laughed, the sound light and filled with a joy you hadn’t felt in years, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[ps-cactus]

Headcanons for the Gaunts in the early 1890s

...and for Ominis staying at the Gaunt Manor, a place he calls "there."

Disclaimer: These are headcanons that work for me in my writing (recently posted a chapter of Ominis at home and my head nearly exploded of everything I had to keep in mind for that, so I'm 'clearing my storage') Of course I don't expect these will work for everyone.

CWs: Any you would expect from these people. Primarily - Toxic Family Dynamics, different forms of Abuse. General darkness.

The Gaunts

General

The family is still recognized for their pureblood lineage, but they're far less financially comfortable than they'd like people to believe. They rely on old connections rather than building new ones.

They had some issues with Aurors, with certain conflicts becoming personal for a while. Investigations have put more pressure on the family and forced them to spend a lot of money buying their way out of trouble.

Other pureblood families are growing more hesitant to marry into the Gaunt line—especially when it comes to the Gaunt sons.

Innate abilities, in addition to Parseltongue, can include Legilimency and/or Occlumency. More about Ominis in his section below.

The transition to Parseltongue can be unconscious, reflexive response to hearing it.

Ivraxus Gaunt (Father)

Works at the Ministry, Department of International Magical Co-operation, the International Magical Trading Standards Body, handling inspections, audits, and licensing. He will last there few more years while his 'friends' let him.

While he maintains a polished front at work and formal gatherings, his methods at home are far harsher, relying on intimidation to keep others in line.

He arranges (or tries to arrange) marriages for his children to maintain sacred alliances.

His wife’s declining health disturbs him—not out of love, but fear. Her loss would represent the crumbling of his already fragile household and it reminds him of his own eventual end. This fear alternates between withdrawal and bursts of anger.

Disapproves of Ominis holding a wand in his hand unless it is absolutely necessary for navigation.

He has a collection of expensive firewhiskeys and usually drinks after work.

Merope Gaunt (Mother)

Her voice is frail and ghostly, and her presence seems to fade into the background. Chronically ill all her life, and her health worsened with every child she bore. She was unable to have more children after Ominis.

She never blames her children in her state and avoids conflict at all costs—not even for her children’s sake, but to protect herself.

If some fight breaks out, she leaves, never offering comfort to anyone involved.

If forced (typically by her husband, if he’s busy) to intervene, she will do the bare minimum to diffuse tension before hurrying away. She prefers to turn away and forget.

Yes, Marvolo named his daughter after her. No, he never loved either of them.

Marvolo Gaunt (Older Brother) sighs

Volatile and aggressive, quick to issue threats or escalate conflicts.

Since graduation, he’s spent much of his time abroad; because of this, he didn’t meet Ominis for a year and a half.

Engaged to Miss Burke, he shows no real interest in the marriage but never opposes it. It’s possible he has feelings for someone else.

He was openly hostile to Ominis from the moment his younger brother was born, seeing him as competition for attention. Marvolo also felt unnerved by Ominis' perceived 'abnormality,' a term whispered frequently at home.

Korentha Malfoy, née Gaunt (Older Sister, the oldest child)

Embraces the family's traditions and social obligations, enjoying all the gatherings and taking pride in her pureblood status.

Quick to lecture Ominis for his "manners." For her, he is an unfortunate disgrace in the family, that affects her as his relative.

Married shortly before the mentioned major conflicts with Aurors. Her marriage into the Malfoy family is seen as the Gaunts’ greatest alliance in years, one their father takes immense pride in. It won't last, though: the marriage will 'cease to exist' within a few years. She also has a son who will never have children of his own.

Side note for their names: The same "alphabetical distance" for father and kids: I-K-M-O

Property

The Gaunt Manor is large, drafty, and perpetually cold. Ominis is constantly freezing despite fireplaces (that are too small for the vast rooms), and warming charms that seem to wear off too quickly.

Noctua's house, the family's second and last property, was left to Ominis in her will. He deeply resents how his parents treat this inheritance like a tool to control him. He has no intention of living there and plans to sell it the moment he gains true independence (after graduation), using the money to start a new life (tells himself it's to not feel like a burden to anyone ever again)

Noctua-Marvolo-Ominis side note (Korentha didn't like her): Noctua was kind to all children, including Marvolo, who loved her back. Until Ominis was born. With Ominis needing protection the most, Noctua's attention shifted to him. Marvolo's jealousy soon turned into violence toward Ominis and their aunt. Their father subtly encouraged Marvolo’s behavior, leading him to think, "Daddy loves me and loves me more than them." He'd kill and maybe die for his father's approval.

Ominis at home there

Keeping Appearances

He rarely spent much time there during summers, usually staying just long enough to prepare for school: he had to buy new clothes, books, etc. He had to maintain connections to use them (like saving Sebastian from detentions).

After fifth year: For the first time since starting Hogwarts, Ominis was forced to endure an entire summer break there.

While there, Ominis is obligated to attend all the dinners and gatherings, where he must act polite and respectful to the honored guests.

He is aware that every move he makes is monitored. Sending or receiving owls while at the manor won't go unnoticed. Ominis avoids it, and his friends understand to do the same to avoid questions and more threats.

Traumas & Coping

He flinches at loud sounds and tries to hide it (by shifting his weight or clasping his hands tightly).

Doesn't allow himself tears, even when he's alone.

Keeps a countdown of how many months/days remain until he’s free of his family.

Has nighttime anxiety and sleeplessness that worsens there.

Dissociates during punishments, struggles to recall them afterward.

Has an innate ability for Occlumency, it comes from a strong instinct to protect himself and stay safe within his mind. This powerful mental resistance once injured his father when he attempted to access Ominis' thoughts.

Some of Personality & Inner Conflict

Mr sarcastic remarks.

Skilled at masking his emotions, maintaining control during conversations. However, this control can slip if his anger is repeatedly triggered. (When alone and spiraling, he may physically lash out by punching things. When it happens near someone he doesn’t feel threatened by, he raises his voice or shouts.)

He's adept at giving his father the answers the latter wants, or at least enough to deflect suspicion (works only if his father is willing to listen, of course).

Would feign indifference toward people he cares about to shield them but feels physically sick afterward for saying things he doesn’t mean.

Deep down, he feels unworthy of help, friendship, or love. These thoughts overwhelm him when he feels he’s made mistakes.

Even so, remembering the voices, presence, and touches of his friends, calms and grounds him.

Still, he clings to the idea of leaving home forever, refusing to become like the rest of his family. Noctua's voice in his memories encourages him, saying, "You’re nothing like them." He's not interested in any kind of revenge, he just wants to be free.

[anna-no-emma]

If you were born into a time were there are wrong words and right words (like gender terminology) to use to signal your politics, like gen Z has been, I think it creates a certain mentality. Like you grow up watching people get shunned (cancelled) from the only third space that's available to you and your peers for using the wrong words...that's going to create some anxiety about using the right words, right? Like if you get it wrong, your community (possibly the only one that's available to you due to the destruction of physical communities and third spaces) will stop engaging with you (at least in a positive manner). And maybe anxiety is too strong a word but the experience is certainly going to cement the importance of what words are socially acceptable and what words aren't, the idea that certain words are acceptable and others aren't.

Now take into account that current undergrad students have probably been on TikTok since they were 11? 12? The people on TikTok are using certain words, certain euphemisms, and they do too. They've spent hours a day on that app, listening to people talk, it's completely understandable to pick up those speech patterns. They also might have spent hours using the app to talk to audiences and had to modify their language to do that. And then the people around them in real life use those censored words or phrases too (maybe it's just to show their peers they're in the loop with a trend, maybe it's to be funny, or maybe, unfortunately, it's just that the first time they heard of that concept it was in a TikTok video with a funky little censored euphamism was being used - maybe they were eleven and the first time they heard anyone properly speak about sex or rape it was as smex or grape on TikTok and that's just how it cemented into their brain, especially because their peers then use those censored euphemisms in real life too. And if they come from a conservative or information poor background it's gonna be a while until they're exposed to the proper terminology). A lot of these now-undergrads grew up only engaging, at least in a meaningful way, to people their own age (due to the destruction of communities and third spaces, as well as the pedophile scare). Older people, at least that the undergrads wanted to connect with as teenagers, who use the real terms are going to be a rarity. Motivation to actually use, for example, sex as opposed to smex is going to be low.

So, maybe if you grew up with this mentality around certain words being socially acceptable and then everyone around you (everybody you crave validation from) is using the TikTok censored version of words...the TikTok words become the socially acceptable terms, at least to you. You can kind of see how one might get to college and be using this 1984-esque language without understanding you are censoring yourself. When you and your peers talked about the issues before college, you all used, for example, the word smex. So why wouldn't you use it now in a lecture hall filled with your peers?

And maybe you feel like the proper term isn't acceptable, especially when addressing someone older (or someone in a position of power), because it feels rude. You haven't had a chance to desensitize the real term. Like I spent ages 15-18 almost constantly saying sex to my friends meaning it wasn't so taboo when I got to college. It was just another word. But if you haven't used the real word that much and your talking to someone older, especially when you don't have much experience talking openly to someone older, you might shy away from the real word and use the term you're used to or that feels more socially acceptable.

I think the language politics anxiety gen Z grew up with (combined with the destruction of communities and third spaces, and TikTok taking the place of these things pushing TikTok to a play a very central part in Gen Z's lives from a very young age) has made them more susceptible to language censorship.

And it's a fucking problem. And having the poor teaching academics pushing the kids to use the real words isn't a real, systematic solution. I don't know how to fix this (not without a lot of money going into education and legislation, anyway).

we have GOT to kill tiktok/twitter self-censorship i just witnessed a grown adult say the word “smex” out loud to our professor

[kings-highway]

okay time to be honest ive been OBSESSED with the headcanon that Iwa is Indian (specifically Punjabi but thats only because thats what I have the most experience with) BUT I have found myself compulsively pairing this headcanon with a similar headcanon which is that Oikawa comes from a very orthodox Catholic family and you'd think this would provide friction over their relationship but no. no ive given them both totally loving and accepting families

the drama is over the wedding planning.

first off, Iwa basically refuses to get engaged because the moment he does he knows whats coming down the line. his family is going to push and push and push for the big, classic indian wedding its a many day event and it is expensive as all hell and Iwa straight up doesnt want to do it but eventually Oikawa wears him down saying it cant possibly be that bad and then cut to a dinner two weeks later, where two mothers-in-law are screaming at each other over a table about fucking colours.

"They will be wearing red! Weddings are always going to be red, red with gold, that is the way we have always done it!" Iwa's mother shouts at a woman who has been her best friend for many years.

"White is the traditional colour of a wedding, if they're not going to be in black suits they should be in white!" Oikawa's mother shouts back. "My son will not be wearing red to his wedding!"

"White? White?! White is for guests!"

"The fuck did you just say?"

[kumkaniudaku]

Group Project

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 5.9k

MASTERLIST

"Okay. I think…I think I'm ready." 

For seven straight days, Asia moved through life, reliving her response to Kelvin and feeling like she'd just written a check her ass couldn't cash. The real thing. What the fuck had she agreed to?

As she sat next to Sabrina with her feet submerged in tepid, bubbling water, the reality of sex unspooling from a far away abstract thought into a tangible possibility with only hours separating her from facing her wildest fantasies smacked her so hard in the face she almost choked on the flat champagne sliding around her plastic cup. 

"Are you all right over there?" Sabrina asked without looking away from the laminated list of pedicure options. 

Asia attempted to take a steadying breath between coughs. "I think I'm dying," she sputtered. Another sip of the offending beverage helped force down residual mucus until she was able to speak without her throat burning. "Honestly, that might not be such a bad idea." 

"Oh, girl. You're losing your virginity, not going off to fight on the frontlines. Tighten up!" 

"Sabrina," Asia whisper-yelled before shooting a nervous grimace meant as a smile to a few older women thumping about in the massage chairs across from them. "You wanna tell everybody my business over the PA system or tap folks individually?" 

Rolling her eyes, Sabrina passed the laminated menu of pedicures to Asia before taking a sip of red wine. "I'm just sayin', friend. I came out today to help you loosen up, but you're stressin' me out. If you're having second thoughts, I'm sure your man will let you reschedule. I heard y'all on the phone earlier. He seems nice enough."

"I don't want to reschedule. I wanna do it tonight. I'm just…I don't know. I'm nervous about the before stuff. If that goes wrong, the whole night is ruined." 

Asia had spent the better part of a week trying to negotiate with the truth, only to realize that reality drove a hard bargain. She couldn't escape the rising tide of nascent romance threatening to wash away all her preconceived notions about her place in love land. He had to know their no-strings-attached suddenly developed enough strings to power a symphony.

For years, she'd convinced herself that time had passed her by. There were no more opportunities for first dates or first kisses. Men worth their snuff in the world wouldn't waste their time with a woman so demonstrably unsexy that she made Mother Teresa look like a lingerie model. Long-term relationships were for your early 20s. And if those days were lost to being dismissed by any potential love interest within the county line, one was essentially doomed to a life of pet-fostering and spending Valentine's Day indoors to avoid spilling your patheticness on people who'd figured out the game. 

Then came Kelvin, who, by all accounts, seemed to neatly pack each of her insecurities and hang-ups into a tiny box before chucking them into the wind. Asia couldn't understand why he hadn't dropped the entire experiment to canoodle, with women undoubtedly vying for his attention. She knew falling for your first, no matter what stage of life the experience found you, was a rookie mistake. But, the wrongs felt so right with him. How could she not at least try?

Sabrina paused her perusal of neon gel nail lacquer and smiled at her friend. "That boy likes you, Asia." Her matter-of-fact delivery came with a light chuckle as she pushed Asia's shoulder for emphasis. "He's not taking you on a date and sending flowers to the house because y'all are best pals. You can spend today worryin' yourself crazy, but I'm tellin' you it's for no reason. Get out of your head. Take it from somebody who is just now realizing her man never really liked her."

"Damn. I'm guessing you and Eric are back off?"

"Girl, yes. For good. But whatever, it's fine." Sabrina scoffed, waving Asia off as if her split second of vulnerability was nothing more than an observation about the weather, and smiled. "Today's about you! We gon' get these nails done, grab you something sexy for the art hoe, and teach you how to use lube. Condoms are being used, right?"

Asia's eyes darted around the room to catch horrified reactions from anyone who might've heard her business being openly discussed. "Bitch!" She lowered her voice before responding. "Yes, we are using condoms. I went and got them myself."

"That's what the fuck I'm talking about. I got this silicone-based lube that I know you'll love. Makes it feel like nothing's separating y'all. My girl is rubbing fronts tonight! Yesss!" 

"Oh God," Asia groaned as she slouched further into her chair, wishing she could poof into a thin layer of pixie dust if it meant she could escape embarrassment. "I'm gonna die."

Throat clearing and the grating squeak of leather under shifting weight stopped Sabrina's ongoing teasing mid-sentence to bring their attention to a greying black woman with curiosity etched in her barely wrinkled face. "Now, I know y'all weren't talking to me, but I need the name of that lube. Do I need to order it off the Amazon? I just got Prime from my son for Christmas." 

"Oop. I got you, Auntie. Let me see your phone." 

While Sabrina drew in a small crowd of elders looking to get back in the saddle with some slippery assistance, Asia found solace in another scroll of her favorite text thread. 

Can't wait to see you later Missed your face this week

Kelvin's last message included an air kiss gif that Asia would consider corny if not for the sender. Pitch decks, client meetings, and last-minute PTO set them on paths winding in different directions, stealing away all chances at a face-to-face meeting before they were body-to-body. 

If not for an impromptu call before the sun could fully take its rightful place in the sky, all communication would belong to iMessages full of jokes with no context and memes they considered fully fleshed-out thoughts. 

Asia read each message repeatedly just to feel the flutter of butterflies in every corner of her belly. He liked her. He had to. The sweet messages, the peach tulips bound in a pretty brown bow, and the early morning wake-up call couldn't all be kind gestures from a friend. Right? 

An internal battle between logic and wishful thinking played out in Asia's mental colosseum. She volleyed a million possible outcomes back and forth until stilted buzzing and a quiet trill against her wrist drew her attention to an incoming FaceTime call from the man of the hour. 

She slid in an earbud and then answered, instantly smiling as she watched his chain bob back and forth with every step while he kept the camera positioned below his face. Grown-out facial hair created the right amount of scruffiness to turn the heads of young and old women alike. His baseball cap cast a shadow across his cheeks. A cerulean sky boasting specks of fluffy white clouds and bright rays of flattering light highlighted the gleam in his earrings. It fanned outward, turning him into a walking, talking work of art. 

When he finally realized the call had connected and he had the rapt attention of his lone audience member, he looked down and grinned. "What's all that about?" 

"All what?" 

"That little smile," he chuckled. "You showin' teeth and everything, girl. Must be happy to see me." 

Caught. Asia tried to return to a neutral expression but found her face ignoring mental orders to accommodate more and more cheek burning as her smile grew wider. "Whatever! This is your second time calling. You need something, or you just like to hear me talk?" 

"Both," he answered, splitting his attention between an incoming crosswalk and the screen. The usual playfulness in his tone abruptly dissipated, leaving behind a seriousness Asia hadn't experienced. He looked down at her and licked his lips before speaking again. "I just, um…I wanted you to know that I'm cool with not staying the night. That was one of your rules, so don't think you have to change it on account of me. I'll leave in the middle of the night if that means you're comfortable." 

"I want you to stay, Kel. But only if you want to." 

"I already got my bag packed with extra pajamas and my laptop just in case this turns into a whole weekend. C'mon, now. This me you talking to!" 

Asia lifted a brow, shocked by his eagerness to spend days on end in her cramped apartment. "My bad! Didn't know you'd be so excited for a sleepover with little 'ol me." 

"I'm always excited to be with you," he answered. Dual smiles radiating from opposite ends of the city held steady over the phone until Kelvin pulled open a door and ushered in a harsh mix of sounds. "I gotta go. My boy's already on my ass for being late. He about to lose his tip, to be honest."

Asia's laughter drew attention, forcing her to shoo Sabrina away before she could interrupt. "Go ahead and get your haircut. Let me see when you're – girl, go away!"  

"Tell your girl I said 'hey,'" Kelvin chuckled as he eased his way into an empty barber chair. His eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer, trying to commit her scrunched nose and knitted brows to memory in case their time together was winding down. "I gotta go. I'll see you later, pretty." 

Her farewell was lost to petty arguments with her best friend on her end and a groundswell of hooping and hollering behind an offending opinion amongst a shop full of men on his side. A huff of air pushed past his lips in a short laugh as he slid his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. 

His barber and friend, Brandon, shook his head and tapped his foot on the pedal to lift Kelvin to the right height. "That's shorty from the bar that night? China?" 

"Asia," Kelvin corrected, a miffed frown deepening the lines at the corners of his mouth. "And, yeah. That's her." 

"My fault. You be way too secretive though, bro. How did y'all meet? Do you like her? Y'all just kickin' it? Tell me something, or I'm fuckin' up the fade."

Black nylon cascading in front of his face gave Kelvin a split second to decide how much information he could share with his notoriously talkative right-hand man without opening the door to prying questions and needless revelations. 

He scratched at the itching hair on his jawline, trying to appear nonchalant. "We met at work. She was new, I showed her around, and now we cool. Simple." An instant smile betrayed his forced tough-guy act. 

"Nah, you cheesin'! Tell the real story!"

The poker face he'd tried to maintain continued to slip into a full display of all thirty-plus teeth. 

"Alright, alright," Kelvin conceded. For months, he kept the truth relegated to his personal journal and mental interviews with Jimmy Kimmel while he practiced for superstardom in the shower. At least one other person should hear how he willingly tangled himself in Asia Scott's web. "I actually saw her when she interviewed. Bad, bro. I'm talkin' make you stop in your tracks just to watch her walk by type fine. Had me stuck at the coffee bar looking stupid." 

Brandon hummed as he pushed Kelvin's head down to start his cut. "Mhmm. That's how it starts, for real. She said something to you first, or what?" 

"Nah, I approached her. Not even trying to cross that line, really. I was supposed to just say what's up and keep it professional, but I couldn't stop talking after that. Next thing I know, we eating lunch, and I'm askin' this girl about her goals and shit." Kelvin laughed to himself while internally watching the memory unfold like a rom-com for his heart and mind only.  "She ain't ask nothin' about me, and I ain't even care. I just wanted to be around her."

"Sound like you got it bad, my boy."

Kelvin released an air he didn't know he was holding through his nose. "Yeah, man. I like her. A lot, actually. I'm thinkin' about saying something when we go out tonight, but…I don't know. It might not be the right time considering what I got goin' on."

"They must be talkin' 'bout some money in Chicago." 

"And then some," Kelvin added. "Crazy perks, revenue share, development plans. My whole life might change."

A loose connection from portfolio school and an expensive cold brew on a rainy weekday afternoon turned Kelvin's professional world upside down in less than two weeks. Initially, he wasn't interested in a move, even if the current work was no longer challenging and forward motion had stalled. His job was easy, flexible, and enough to pay the bills with a little extra on the side. But, a half-hour chemistry meeting with two creative leads over Zoom ran fifteen minutes too long from vibes alone. Then, solid chemistry turned into a first-round interview with a few department heads ogling over his professional and personal work for almost an hour before promising to keep in touch. Radio silence on their end for over a week convinced Kelvin that the circus was over, and he was free to go back to his life of easy money for even easier work. Hell, he didn't want to live in cold-ass Chicago anyway. 

Then the phone rang. And the inbox blew up. Flights got booked. Hotel arrangements were made. Hasty, last-minute PTO requests were granted in good faith. Tired eyes shielded by blue light lenses watched clouds part over a glittering city from thousands of feet in the air. A non-traditional second-round interview over piping hot pizza turned him into the center of attention. Corporate banter while he sipped freezing cold beer in lower-level seats at a Bulls game ended with a handshake and Kelvin sensing that he'd have a decision on his hands in the coming weeks. 

Asia. She popped into his mind more than a few times while too-cool advertising types wined and dined him in hopes his talent would fill out their roster. All of the progress, all of the accidentally tender moments and slip-ups he knew in his heart were more than happy accidents flooded him with ceaseless anxiety. Sure, he could see them planning weekend trips back and forth to keep the flame alive in a budding relationship. Long-distance courtship wasn't ideal, but he'd manage for her. However, his feelings about the matter were inconsequential. One false move, and he'd be out of a friend and potential lover. The thought alone threatened to upend a night he'd carefully planned since they agreed to their unconventional arrangement. 

The soft buzz of clippers near his right ear rescued Kelvin from spiraling as chunks of dead hair fell around him. 

"Aye, man, I ain't no love expert or nothing, but," Brandon started, his attention far off while he focused on his money-making blend. "You like her. I could tell when you brought her over to us that night, but I ain't wanna blow up your spot. Might as well say something. Why you wanna go to Chicago with regrets? You already 'bout to be up there with a slaw ass haircut because I ain't givin' up no contacts. Lose my number after this, nigga." 

Kelvin kissed his teeth and waved Brandon off. "I deleted your contact this morning if we being honest. Been tired of your ass." 

Shared laughter between two men who'd seen each other, from the naivety of boyhood to the hurdles and joys on the journey to becoming a man, added levity to a bitter inner storm. Kelvin tried to savor the moment and advice without dwelling on impending decisions but found the task harrowing once he popped the bubble they'd created to re-enter the real world. 

Regrets. Kelvin had a lot of them. Skipping out on senior prom, not answering his sister's FaceTime call for free Kendrick Lamar tickets, choosing that sketchy roommate to make ends meet in his first year out of school – the list went on and on. Asia couldn't be one of them. Not knowing if there could've been more would gnaw at him til kingdom come, and he didn't have room to harbor more what-ifs.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Asia, half listening to instructions with sweaty palms and a heart nearly cracking ribs in his chest, Kelvin resolved to use his last bits of nerve to step out on a limb. 

Sax heavy jazz selections wrapped a rented test kitchen and the couples within its walls in a sensual embrace under dim yellow light. Kelvin had TikTok and a favor to thank for snagging the final spot in Shawn and Terricka's coveted Couples Night In cooking course. In one night, he and Asia would take a culinary trip to Italy, complete with expert wine pairings and handmade pasta to bring them together as two parts of a whole. Kelvin couldn't say he was much of a fettuccine, linguini, bow tie, rigatoni guy. Still, he'd never forget how Asia's face lit up when she showed him videos of young women making noodles from scratch. He went to the ends of the Earth and his wallet to orchestrate an experience she wouldn't forget on a night when every detail down to the minute required perfection.

"Are you listening?" Asia asked with a teasing smile as she adjusted the complementary apron, shielding her from what was sure to be a mess if she had anything to do with it. 

He puffed his chest and straightened before clapping his hands and looking around their station at the ingredients in front of them. "Y-yeah. I heard everything she said. Eggs, flour, this thing…" He paused to satisfy his curiosity with a single crank of the pasta roller's handle before continuing. "It's, uh…all here." 

Asia watched him search the depths of his mind for any crumb of retained information, enjoying the way his lips shifted back and forth in pensive silence. 

Overhead light bathed Kelvin in a flattering glow, making the small stud in his ear and the watch on his wrist shine each time he moved his head. A soft black cashmere cardigan cradled strong arms, while his signature crisp white T-shirt displayed his broadening chest. His fresh haircut and trimmed facial hair sent tingles to all the right places, reminding Asia of the first time she noticed he was fine. 

"You're cute when you pretend you know what you're doing." 

Kelvin gave her a half smile without tearing his eyes away from the short list of step-by-step instructions in his hand. "Oh yeah? Only then?" 

"Well, all the time. But especially when you're thinking. Like how you're trying to remember Terricka's instructions when she hasn't even given us any yet. She was introducing the class and telling us we'd be sharing a little about ourselves in a bit.”

A sheepish grin preceded a gentle bump against Asia's forearm before Kelvin's shoulders bounced in quiet laughter. "Why you doin' me like that? If you didn't look so damn good in this dress, we'd have a problem." 

"Oh, so it's the dress?" Asia quipped as Kelvin leaned back for a better look. 

He nodded and reached out to pull her closer by the waist. His lips quickly found a home on her ear to keep their conversation private in a room full of chattering adults. "It's more than the dress. You're gorgeous, baby." 

Sweet compliments mumbled against soft, brown skin drowned out couple after couple sharing their names, length of relationship, and fun facts until a loud hand clap snapped Asia and Kelvin's attention to the center of the room. 

"And you two," Shawn questioned with all eyes directed toward the youngest two in attendance. "Tell us about your love." 

Kelvin gripped Asia tighter and cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm Kelvin, and this is Asia."

"Hey, y'all," Asia chimed with a quick wave. 

"And we're…" Kelvin looked at Asia, smiling at her while she smiled back at him, to find an explanation for what they'd been doing for a month. "We're enjoying our time together." His gaze remained steadfast on Asia's bashful grin. "Maybe we'll finish tonight on a different note, though." 

Red wine, teamwork, and a stack of questions printed on thick white note cards would ensure that the pair at least ended their first date with a greater understanding of each other. Asia learned Kelvin was an artist in every sense of the word. He preferred freestyling the tedious pasta recipe when directions called for specificity in every regard. Asia kept them on task, but not without redirecting her excitable companion along the way. 

Kelvin quickly discovered that all of Asia's know-how completely disappeared when faced with kitchen matters. She didn't know a ¼ cup from a half and didn't have any intentions of learning. Her forte was delegating tasks, not sullying her painted fingernails and oiled cuticles with egg yolks and wet dough. 

Separately, they were a clusterfuck of missing parts trying to navigate an arduous task. Together, though, they crafted the best mafaldine their instructors for the night had ever seen from amateurs. 

Tucked in a corner at the far end of the space's makeshift eating area, Kelvin and Asia plucked cards one after the other in a back-and-forth Q&A over flavorful mafaldine pasta bolognese. 

"Mm, this is a good one," Asia said after a sip of cabernet. "What is your favorite thing about your partner? What's one thing you would change?" 

Kelvin twirled pasta around his fork and thought for a moment. "You don't take a lot of shit. I like that you're very direct and in charge of what you want." 

"And something you would change?" 

"That's easy," he answered through a chew. "You're too hard on yourself. I wish you could see yourself how everyone else sees you. I know you think we're all just being nice, but you really are incredible. I love watching you blossom." Kelvin watched Asia digest his words over her glass, the wheels churning in her active mind. He reached across the table to grab another card. "What's one thing you want me to know about our relationship?" 

That I'm falling for you, and I don't want this to end. One hundred answers flooded in at once, but Asia settled on one. "I want you to know how appreciative I am for…all this. You've been kind when you could've called me a loser and left me in that bar to be with your friends." 

"I wouldn't have done that, Asia. Not to you." 

"I know," Asia assured as she dragged the last vowel. "But, you could've. So, thank you for being so kind and patient. By tomorrow, that'll all be done, and we'll go back to our lives, so I didn't wanna miss the chance to let you know how I feel." 

Confusion made Kelvin tilt his head to one side, studying her face under the haze of full-bodied wine and growing affection. "Go back to my life? Where's that coming from?"

"I just mean, it seems like we're coming to the natural end of this thing we're doing. We'll still be friends, but you'll be free to fly. Maybe sweep somebody off their feet. You're good at that," Asia clarified, her smile lingering as the familiar bloom of feelings coursing through her veins made her stomach flutter.

Kelvin placed his fork against his plate before pulling the napkin from his lap and depositing it on the table. No regrets. Now or never. A short laugh brought with it a charming grin aimed at his favorite girl. 

"Asia, I guess haven't been super clear with you from the start,"  He started while motioning for her hand in the center of the table. Asia answered his wordless call and placed her fingers in the center of his warm palm. He leaned closer, hoping she could detect his eyes' sincerity when he finally breathed out, "I like you, Asia. Shit, even 'like' is too small," He laughed. "I…I adore you. I crave you. I look forward to seeing you. I think about you constantly. I feel connected to you. I want to be with you. Does any of that make sense?" 

Asia sat stone still and unblinking for a moment, mulling over words she had only dreamt of hearing from another. An explicit declaration of intent – feeling foreign in her ears but familiar to a heart that longed for reciprocation. 

Her thumb caressed the back of Kelvin's hand as a smile spread her cheeks to their limit and deepened dimples she almost forgot existed. "Guess I'm a better kisser than I thought, huh?"

"Actually, I don't know. Let me check real quick." Metal dragging across stained concrete brought Kelvin's chair closer to Asia until their knees touched, transferring heat between their bodies. His fingers grazed her jawline, never averting his attention from her equally unwavering gaze. "Come here." 

Asia's favorite command, delivered in a sultry mumble, made hair all over her body stand straight up as they moved to meet each other in the middle. 

One tentative peck introduced a slow progression of deep, passionate kisses, translating latent feelings into a language only bodies could speak. A barely audible moan slipped out of Asia's mouth when Kelvin nipped at her lip, reminding them an audience wasn't far away. They pulled away slowly with equally glazed-over eyes and goofy grins.

Kelvin smiled and swiped at Asia's bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Way better." He listened to her sweet giggle, grinning back until the sound reminded him of the question left unanswered. "Look, four weeks didn't spark how I feel about you. They helped, don't get me wrong, but I knew I wanted you as more than a friend the second you strolled into that office. If we're not on the same page, I understand. But if there's any chance we are, any chance –" 

"We're on the same page, same sentence, same word. But we can talk about what all that means tomorrow, okay?" Carnal desire propelled Asia forward for another slow kiss and feather-soft caress that threatened to bring Kelvin to his knees. She inched away to keep her lips on his as she spoke. "Right now, take me home. I don't wanna wait anymore."

------

Hopefully, Alister liked SZA. 

As barely intelligible love songs oozed from her Bluetooth speaker, Asia attempted to stifle sounds of pleasure with her forearm pressed against her mouth and one leg draped lazily over her lover's shoulder. Languid, thorough oral affection kept her lower back levitated off the mattress. Soft moaning melding with subtle slurping and smacking treated her ears to a beautiful symphony catered to her. 

Kelvin's fingers pressed into Asia's flesh to keep her steady while he lapped at the beginning of what he hoped was only her first orgasm for the night. Nervousness had him self-conscious. Skills he'd practiced and mastered long before she stepped into his life felt foreign. Was he doing it right? Did she like it? Was she happy? He suppressed the urge to question her satisfaction, instead leaning on every wanton sigh and muffled moan as proof he was on the right path. 

"Oh my God," Asia whispered to the ceiling. "Don't stop!" 

Immeasurable euphoria washed over her naked body as her hips bucked to accommodate electric shocks from head to toe. Hey, eyes crossed behind closed lids. Her toes curled while all ten fingers gripped the sheets. 

"One down," Kelvin thought to himself as he smiled against thighs pressed tight to his face. 

If not for her hand prying his face away after she'd exhausted herself from cumming, he'd start from scratch and bring her to the mountaintop until his jaws locked. But, he relented under her breathless pleas for a break. 

Slowly, Kelvin kissed his way up Asia's belly, making pit stops at both breasts and his favorite spot beneath her right ear before connecting their lips. They groaned at her taste intermingling with remnants of alcohol while their tongues reacquainted in a waltz too perfect to be a sin. He could feel his rational thoughts running south to stiffen his neglected member against briefs, growing more and more uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

Kelvin shifted his attention back to Asia's neck so he could speak against the spot. "You feel ready or need more?" His tongue sliding across the pulsing stretch of hot skin made Asia shiver under his body weight. He smiled and pulled back to get a better look at Asia's face. "You feel ready. Talk to me, pretty." 

"Okay," she answered as her arms encircled his neck. "Promise you'll go slow?" 

He nodded before dipping his head to peck her lips. "As slow as you need. I'll take care of you."

Years of waiting for someone to cherish her enough to take the plunge had culminated in undergarments discarded across the room and a single sleeve of thin latex covered in expensive lube separating her from the only man to see her in her most vulnerable form. 

This was it. This was the moment. She'd dreamed about it plenty of times, imagining the most minute details, from the weather to how she'd sound at the height of her climax. Mirages filled with rose petals on the floor and a soft breeze coming through the window made up a scenario better suited for a romance novel than the reality of finally releasing pent-up sexual tension.

Asia expected pain for the first time. She'd heard the horror stories and done enough research to know what was waiting on the other side of first-time penetration. Breathing recommendations and practiced facial expressions to mask her true feelings came flooding back to the front of her mind as Kelvin ran his palms up and down her hips to soothe her while he positioned himself at her entrance. She held her breath. Waiting, anticipating limb-splitting fire to consume her body.

But, as Kelvin slowly sank into her and twin groans of pure, unadulterated ecstasy eclipsed the opening notes of Love Galore, all of her assumptions became background fodder. 

Asia gripped Kelvin's tensed bicep while he stilled deep in her heat, watching her face for any signs of discomfort. "You okay," He questioned through shallow pants.

"Mhmm," she hummed before reaching to bring his face closer. "You feel so good already." Kelvin closed his eyes to will away premature release while she pulsed around him. Asia stroked his cheek and arched into his chest to beg him to move inside her. "Please. I trust you, Kel. It's okay." 

As promised, Kelvin started slow, rolling his hips into her for shallow strokes that made Asia's voice hoarse and her head spin. He reveled in the feel of ridged walls greeting his arrival as they tugged and released him according to pace. He lowered himself into the crook of her neck and felt instant relief when she cradled him close. The bed creaked in time to every measured back and forth, adding another layer to the duet their individual moaning created. 

Hot, slick skin on crumpled cold sheets wouldn't allow Asia to drift too far into La La Land. She feasted on Kelvin digging deeper and gripping her tighter while her body did the work to accommodate inch after glorious inch. 

Kelvin tried to remain quiet, tempering each grunt and unidentifiable sound as his hips loosened to find a rhythm perfect enough to elicit high-pitched mewls from the apple of his eye while she dug her fingernails into his back. 

"Look at you," Kelvin cooed as he pushed back up onto his forearms to get the full experience of Asia's face twisting in pleasure. "You're so fucking pretty. Open your eyes." 

"Kel…" 

He moved to bring one leg up to his waist for a new angle. "I'm right here, baby. Open those pretty eyes for me. Your first time only happens once. Don't look away." He waited patiently for Asia to force her sagging lids open enough to reveal the punchdrunk haze of a methodical fucking. He smiled down at her. "There she is. How you feelin'?" 

"So…oh my God…so good." 

"That's what I like to hear. I feel you getting close. You feel that?" 

A long, choppy moan came out before Asia's slurred response. "Mhmm. I think I'm…. mmm, I think I'm… I'm close." 

"Yeah, you are. Relax for me. Breathe deep." Asia tried to keep track of instructions but lost the plot and her sense of hearing the moment Kelvin slipped his hand between them to rub her clit with his thumb. 

The barely familiar coil of release tightened in her lower abdomen as Kelvin rocked into her while whispering sweet everything onto the corner of her mouth. Asia wrapped her arms around his shoulders for stability, anticipating the first wave of heat trying to prepare her body for something more intense. 

Her breathing grew rigid. The world slipped away pixel by pixel. Thoughts turned into mush. Kelvin's instructions returned as fleeting anecdotes. Asia tried to breathe through it but found the task playing second fiddle to the natural tense and release of her thighs around his waist. 

In through your nose, Asia. The reminder pinged around the empty corners of her mind until they found a way to burrow into the only functioning part of her brain. 

Kelvin watched her cycle through a range of all too familiar feelings from overhead, pride, and a competitive spirit he thought he left in high school, convincing him to go above and beyond. He drove his hips a little harder to hear the headboard thumb against paper-thin drywall. Added pressure on her sensitive button was the magic key to turning a small pond into one of the great lakes. 

Asia's jaw dropped to force out a throaty, "Fuck, baby…yes!" before he eased up to allow her to experience all the joy of post-coital bliss without the overstimulation. He'd save that for another time if the universe allowed. 

Sabrina was so wrong about what to expect. All Asia's hang-ups about ending the night unsatisfied or unimpressed were washed away as sensation returned to her fingers and toes. 

"Kiss me." It's all she wanted – Kelvin's lips on hers until her oxygen became his. 

They lay there, hot, sweaty, and still connected at the waist while Kelvin pressed tender kisses on Asia's lips. He nuzzled his nose against hers. "You called me 'baby.'" 

"I know," she answered as she brought her hand up to rub a spot at the base of his neck. "I meant to. Don't make me regret it." 

Guilt smacked into Kelvin like an 18-wheeler, but he maintained his composure to maintain the hopeful smile on Asia's face. "I won't." 

"Good. Don't hold back on me this time. I want all of you." 

"This time" turned into another, a short break and a few more for good measure while SZA sang them into the wee hours of the morning. Kelvin poured himself into making every minute worth Asia's while as a reward for trusting him with her body. 

Chicago and its host of budding issues belonged to another day. He wasn't leaving the room, her apartment, or the city with any regrets. Not while he still had so many more lessons to teach.

-------

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[sirfrogsworth]

So, I did know the basic psychology of this. Or I have a good guess at least. But I was too tired and just needed a way to end the post quickly. I am running on fumes nearly all the time and sometimes I just do whatever I need so I can publish something and feel like I accomplished a goal.

But a few people are having issues with what I said.

They mentioned that autistic folks find comfort in repetition and feel like I am calling that sad. I definitely see that as a possible interpretation and I appreciate them mentioning feeling that way.

But I just wanted to use a little bit of energy to address why I don't think I was referring to these normal, healthy coping mechanisms. I mentioned in a reply that my father actually needed to watch the same show over and over because he was too sick to concentrate on something unfamiliar. I get why it can be helpful.

Firstly, I don't know many autistic people who trap everyone they know at a party and play the same 12 songs over and over.

By and large, that aspect was what I found most sad.

But aside from that, I see this repetitive behavior as a very different thing.

In fact, I would say it isn't the behavior itself... it is the *reason* for the behavior.

I see Trump's repetitive behavior more as living in the past, stuck in his ways, being stubborn, and unwilling to try new things. Something I see a lot with elderly conservative folks. They yearn for a better time in the past when they forgot all of the shitty things and only remember happy times. They say music was better in the good old days and refuse to consider any good music could be created outside of that golden age.

Trump is stuck in the 80s and 90s. He was young and healthy and grabbing pussy and fucking models (with and without consent) and going to parties of important people. He was invited to celebrity weddings and was literally Regis Philbin's best friend. Society generally liked him. He was just the goofy rich guy with the hair and many of us thought he was really good at business. Something enhanced by The Apprentice which was heavily edited to make him seem like a business genius. He likes people thinking he is good at business more than he likes being president.

I actually think he hates being president and only ran this time to stay out of jail.

Trump is not well liked as he used to be. No matter how many cult members love and praise him, he remains deeply unhappy. His wife refuses to touch or even kiss him in public. She does this little hand escape thing every time he tries to hold her hand. And when he tries to kiss her she makes him do that French thing where he has to kiss the air near her head.

Every one of his current "friends" is just playing the game. They are hoping their fealty will help them climb the ladder. I doubt he has a single genuine friend left. Except maybe Rudy Guiliani, who turned into a fucking nutball.

He was traumatized from being inches away from death and I think that was the real reason he moved his inauguration inside. A life long New Yorker is pretty well adapted to the cold.

He probably has erectile dysfunction. He is said to need a diaper. People say he smells really bad. Getting old sucks for everyone, but it is devastating to a narcissist of Trump's caliber.

Trump is in a psychological prison of unhappiness and all he has left is his rallies and his parties where he tries to trigger memories of better times. He has the world's thickest nostalgia glasses.

Why do you think he says "Make America Great AGAIN"?

He says he is going to restore the US to its "former glory."

Almost every personal and political goal of his is based on restoring how things used to be. Which is why he so easily fit into the regressive Republican party despite being a New York Democrat for most of his life.

Trump has elderly nostalgia brain and he is stuck in a loop. He is desperately trying to recreate his glory days.

I get why people had an issue with the caption. And I should have waited until I had more energy to clarify.

In the end, this man is stuck in his ways and stupendously uncurious of new things.

And those are terrible traits for a president.

[thewidowsledger]

not a back story but i would really like to know what is happening with milf r and nerd nat right now that nat is in her household with her sons...

i love your work so much and all i can say is youre underrated, thank you

After seeing Nat, r never stopped squirming. Having to have the welcome home lunch with her sons and of course, the one she had a one night stand with that turned out to be her son's bestfriend.

She did her best to avoid Natasha or be alone with Natasha. You are welcoming to her and very accommodating but only when you are around your sons.

That summer was supposed to be a bonding season for you and for your children but now you try to avoid home as much as possible so you wouldn't have to see or have an interaction with your second born's bestfriend.

You told Thena all about it and all she did was laugh at your face about how odd and how small the world is for you. You would always spend your time with your friend that your children are becoming curious onto why you're always gone.

One time your Bruce had to ask you why you were not home the whole day, he asked you if you were seeing someone. And you froze on spot, holding tightly on your cutlery as you eat dinner with them, you saw Natasha looked at you—all three of them were looking at you. You let out a chuckle wishing it didn't come out nervously as you intended it to be. And, you said, yes. Lies.

Tony saying, "Can he take a punch?" And Natasha almost choked her food. You blinked as Tony laughed at his bestfriend. "I...he can, Tony." You said, hoping that he won't notice the lies that lay beneath your words. You only said yes, so whatever hope you see in Natasha's eyes whenever you look at her would fade.

They only stayed for 3 weeks, painful 3 weeks having not to spend so much time with your sons and having to see your son's friend that gave you mindblowing orgasm that the father of your children couldn't even give you.

The night before they leave your place, Tony told Natasha to accompany you to the market to buy some stocks like foods and toiletries for their apartment. You refused, almost scolding your son telling him that you don't want his friend to be tired and you have a long travel tomorrow. Natasha took that as a chance and told you that it's not a problem. Now, you can't refuse.

The drive on the market was painfully silent, Natasha was the one to push the cart, being a gentlewoman she is as she took the liters of water you were carrying, your hands grazing at each other before she placed it in the cart. She also took it to herself to carry everything to the car especially the heavy ones.

The drive back was full of tension unlike the drive on your way back to the market. It is the only and last moment you would be with Natasha, alone. "You're really seeing someone?" You nodded, lies. "Good for you." Because if you are, now there would be a reason for Natasha to move on.

You really tried not to talk or utter a single word with her but the feeling of being guilty walking out on her is eating you. "You're young, Natasha. You'll meet so many people along the way." You spoke after her little talk with you. "You're a big, smart girl. I know you know how much I love my children." She know what your words were hinting. She could only nod, suppressing the tears that are threatening to fall in her eyes.

"C-can...can I kiss you? One last time? Please." Fuck being in your driveway as she asked. You saw her reddened eyes with tears. You cupped her face with one hand and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, she expected a kiss on her lips but you draw the line there. Your foreheads and noses touched for a brief moment before you pulled away. You have to, because if you don't you won't let her go neither will she even though you had painfully missed how her plump lips felt like on yours and as it travel on your body.

You didn't know that Bruce and Tony planned a surprise for you that's why they let Natasha go with you. The little celebration went well, filled with so much tension and stolen glances between you and Natasha. At the end of the night, you all took a photo together, one with Bruce, one with Tony, one with the two of them, and one with the redhead.

The day after, you never tore away yourself to your children. Hugging, kissing and babying them. Your children never stopped asking you about the one you're seeing but you would try to avoid the conversation by scolding and reminding them about stuff when they finally go again to the university. Meanwhile, Natasha never dared to look at you even before they leave the house.

After they leave, you took Natasha's shirt and the photo you had together where you two stood awkwardly with enough space between each other. A tear fell down your cheek as you put it on a box. You know that as you close this box the feelings you had with the young girl will forever be hidden with it. You two cannot be together, you love your children too much to be with her—but a part of you wished for the situation to be different—you wished that maybe in another universe her star would align to yours.

—

Author's Note: Sorry guys, this is not a sad ending, this is a realistic ending🤓 thank you for this request, nony! And thank you for the kind words, I appreciate it🫶

Fic link: Toothbrush

[bellaxgiornata]

You Are My Sunshine [2]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.8k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

a/n: May have been on a roll with writing, so enjoy part two sooner than anticipated! I greatly appreciated all the comments on the last part, too! Y'all are the reason I've already started on part three. I've also found that I'm enjoying the Jax POV's so there's more in this one and the next! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

tag list: @mariamadison6-blog @moongirlgodness

The rush of customers in the coffee shop had finally dwindled down after opening, leaving you with the usual mid-morning lull with which you’d grown accustomed. The elderly couple that came in almost every single morning around the same time to have a coffee was sitting at the exact same table in the far corner where they always sat, sipping their coffees and chatting quietly with each other. A college-aged young woman currently sat posted up at the front counter with her laptop and a notebook, her attention focused on an assignment. The sight of them brought a smile to your face as you filled up your small watering can at the underbar sink behind the counter.

You’d opened this coffee shop with the intention of it becoming a place for people around Charming to feel welcome. Whether that meant Honest Coffee was a spot to come and enjoy a cup of coffee for a first date or with a spouse of thirty years, or a place for students to focus on homework or others to come in and work. Whatever it was that brought repeat customers in here and allowed you the opportunity to meet the members of your town, it gave you joy seeing your shop growing into exactly what you’d hoped it could become. 

Mia, one of the baristas you’d hired when the shop had first opened months ago, stood beside you as she cleaned down the machines and wiped down the counters. You’d noticed she wasn’t quite as chatty, working in an unusually thoughtful silence this morning, but just as you’d been about to ask if something was on her mind, the approaching rumble of motorcycles had caused her to stiffen and stop working. The noise grabbed your own attention as it drowned out the sound of the music playing over the speakers. You gave Mia a curious sidelong glance before the line of bikes pulling into the lot across the street drew your attention over to the front windows of your coffee shop. 

Standing there holding the full watering can in your hands, you watched with Mia as the handful of men rolled into the lot across the street in the bright morning sunshine. The group of men backed up in the parking lot, lining their bikes beside each other in front of the clubhouse. The difference was almost immediate once they all began to cut their engines, the shop becoming noticeably quieter than it had been a second ago. It was something else you’d also just grown accustomed to with having a coffee shop located across the street from the Sons of Anarchy. 

It didn’t skip your notice how the few people in the shop were all reacting to the motorcycle club, either. Besides the way Mia had gone completely still beside you, the young woman working on her laptop was agitatedly clicking her nails on the countertop. Across the shop, the elderly couple was staring out of the window beside them with matching guarded expressions on their faces before you caught them exchanging a look with each other. The elderly woman rolled her eyes at her husband and you frowned at the sight.

It wasn't that you were oblivious about what was said around town about the Sons, because you definitely weren't. You'd heard the rumors–everything from them selling guns to making crack to being killers for hire. You knew most of the things people said about them were embellished, false assumptions, but you also were aware that some things probably held some truth. 

But that didn't matter to you. You were a firm believer in everyone deserving a fair chance. Equal treatment. You'd met Gemma, the supposed matriarch of the Sons, a few times now. She had come in often after you had first opened the shop. And while she'd absolutely come across completely different than the usual citizens of Charming, you'd found her to be a very sweet woman–in her own special way. And you'd had a strong inkling that her visits to your shop for coffee as she chatted with you about your plants or how business was coming along had just been a way for her to ease the pain of missing her son while he was doing time in Stockton.

A few nights ago when you had finally met that son of hers, you'd gotten a feel for the Sons’ President. You weren't entirely sure what had brought him in after you had closed that night–because you were certain it wasn't the coffee–but you had caught the hint of pain hidden deep in the depths of his blue eyes despite all of his charming smiles and pet names. In all honesty, he had seemed lonely and lost beneath all that playboy persona you'd heard about. You hadn't minded letting him stay to chat because he seemed like he needed a friend or some kind words, even if he didn't realize it himself. And you had been content to be that for a short time.

“It's unfortunate your coffee shop is across the street from that,” Mia muttered.

Snapping out of your thoughts at the sound of her voice, you looked over at where she'd resumed cleaning down the counter. You could feel the frustration building in your gut, but you did your best to tamp it down and keep it at bay. Not everyone in Charming was as determined to be as open-minded as you were. It was a small town, after all. And it wasn't like the Sons hadn't caused their own fair share of trouble over the years.

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

Setting the filled watering can down on the counter, you turned and focused on your employee. Mia pulled a face at the question before she dropped the towel she was cleaning with onto the countertop and fixed her full attention on you.

“Really?” she asked before gesturing a hand at the front shop window. “Your coffee shop is across the street from a whole criminal operation. A very loud, very crude one. It's not exactly the most ideal location.”

Shrugging a shoulder, your eyes darted across the street. A bunch of men in kuttes, as Jax had taught you they were called the other night, were congregating in front of their bikes. You could easily make out Jax amongst the group from his blonde hair even from this distance. He looked angry about something as he spoke, one of his arms gesturing in wide, sharp movements. Briefly you wondered what had made him quite so furious before your attention returned to Mia and the topic of conversation.

“The rent was vastly more affordable for this building,” you told her, knowing exactly why it was. “And while it can occasionally get a little noisy with the motorcycles, and some people aren't the biggest fan of our neighbors, I don't really feel bothered by their presence.”

Mia sent you a flat look, one of her brows arching upwards in disbelief. “They don't bother you? Are you completely insane?”

“They're really not that bad,” you disagreed.

Both of Mia's brows shot up onto her forehead at that, her jaw partially dropping. You playfully rolled your eyes at her in return, an amused smile curving the corners of your lips. She was always so dramatic.

“Are you serious?” Mia asked. “Have you forgotten Gemma already since her last visit?”

You shook your head at the question. Of course you hadn't forgotten the woman. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to forget her.

“Gemma is just blunt. She speaks her mind,” you replied. “Maybe it's a bit much for most people, but she's really not all that bad.”

“Well the guys over there–” Mia continued, gesturing back out the front window with a hand again while remaining focused on you, “–definitely aren't good.”

You shook your head, picking the full watering can up from its place on the counter. “That is entirely a matter of opinion. You can’t paint people in black and white, Mia. What one person considers “good” is arguably “bad” to someone else, and vice versa. It's objective. A social construct. It isn't like they haven't participated in charity work around Charming. Done things to arguably help the town on occasion, either.”

“Well, you can't argue that they don't break laws. And I think killing people is pretty black and white, boss,” Mia called after you as you began watering the plants in the shop. “That’s about as sharp of a contrast as you can get between the two.”

“Maybe in some cases,” you agreed, watering one of your pothos plants that had been growing like crazy in a hanging basket nearby. “But to some extent, I think there's more factors to be considered before passing judgement. Like the why behind it all. Something no one in this town probably really knows when it comes to each one of them.”

Mia exhaled sharply at your words, the sound almost like she was deflating at your response. A moment later she began laughing a little, the noise catching your attention as you moved to water the next plant.

“Okay, I didn't sign up for one of your lectures on morality this morning,” Mia teased you.

You grinned as you focused back on watering the plant before you. “All I'm saying is that humans are complex, you can't just–”

“Lectures on morality?” Gemma's distinct voice cut through the conversation, causing both you and Mia to glance over at the shop’s entrance. “I thought you just sold coffee here, now you're lecturing on morality, sweetheart?”

Mia grew tense behind the counter instantly, her mouth closing as she forced a professional smile onto her face that clearly looked forced when she greeted Gemma. But you genuinely smiled over at the dark-haired woman, and that smile only grew wider when you saw who she had brought with her–Abel. His blonde head came to just about knee-height beside her as he held onto her hand, but the moment the almost one-and-a-half year old little boy saw you, the biggest smile spread across his own face. 

During Jax’s time away in Stockton, Gemma had spent a lot of time watching Abel when he wasn't with his nanny. Which meant sometimes she had brought him with her when she came in for coffee, so you had gotten to know him along with Gemma over the past few months. And Abel had gotten used to the free cookie you'd given him every time–anything from chocolate chips to snickerdoodles to monster cookies. He'd taken to calling you ‘cookie’ because of it, something you personally adored hearing in his little voice every time.

“I didn't know my favorite customer was coming in today!” you exclaimed.

Turning in a hurry, you set the watering can down on the counter behind you before rushing across your shop, not having seen the little boy for over a week. The moment he began hopping in place next to Gemma, his small hand still wrapped around hers, you felt your heart melt. He was the sweetest little boy.

“You're more chipper than usual today,” Gemma observed.

You caught the teasing smile on her face before you knelt down in front of Abel, your smile widening when he waved at you and called you 'cookie’ once again. You'd been about to open your mouth to ask him if he was ready to pick out a cookie today, but a now familiar voice behind Gemma caught your attention.

“What about cookies, little man?” 

Looking up from your place on the floor of the shop, you saw Jax stepping inside just behind his mother, the door falling shut behind him. The moment his attention left Abel and focused on you, you went still. Judging by the look of confusion on his face, you guessed he hadn't known about Abel's visits with Gemma to your shop. But behind that outward confusion written on his face, you could still see the remnants of something like anger left over from when you'd seen him yelling about something across the street a short time ago. You were half tempted to ask how he was doing today, but you had a feeling the question would be met with either a lie or hostility. So you left it alone this time. 

“Been bringing Abel here with me since you boys were in Stockton,” Gemma explained, turning on the spot and studying her own son closely as he stepped further inside. “He calls the owner ‘cookie’ cause she always gives him one when he visits.”

Jax's expression shifted to something harder when his mother mentioned Stockton Prison, a muscle jumping in his cheek. You quietly watched as some sort of silent exchange occurred between them while you remained kneeling in front of Abel.

“The hell are you doing here, anyway, Jackson?” Gemma asked after a moment of silence, still eyeing him suspiciously. “Don't you have a...thing to go deal with?”

Jax’s eyes narrowed at his mother before he answered. “A few of the guys are handling it right now,” he replied, voice tense. “Thought I'd see what you and Abel were up to. Figured I could use a coffee myself.”

Gemma’s head tilted to the side, one dark brow arching up at his comment as if she didn’t quite believe him. Not wanting to get in the middle of whatever was going on between them, you stood back up, eyes shifting between the pair.

“So…is it alright if I let Abel pick out a cookie this morning?” you asked cautiously.

Both Gemma and Jax turned their attention to you at the sound of your voice. Almost simultaneously they both responded to the question, the sight causing you to bite back a grin.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Sure thing, sunshine.”

Gemma's head immediately snapped in Jax’s direction as she pulled a face at him. “Sunshine?” she questioned sharply.

Fighting down a laugh at the briefly sheepish expression you caught on Jax’s face before he recovered, you grabbed Abel's hand and led him over towards the front counter. You noticed the firm look Jax sent his mother before you walked away–the one clearly telling her to not say anything further.

As you helped Abel pick out one of the freshly baked cookies you had made–peanut butter brownie swirl–you could hear Mia awkwardly taking Gemma and Jax’s drink order behind the register. She began fumbling behind the counter shortly afterwards as she started on Gemma's latte, clearly more thrown off by the presence of Jax with her this time. The only time he'd come into the coffee shop was the other night after closing when it had just been you here. Besides that night and Gemma's visits, no other Son or affiliate of the Sons had ever actually come into your shop. 

You could tell Jax’s presence wasn't just affecting Mia as Abel happily ran back to his father's side with his cookie in hand. The young woman at the counter doing her schoolwork kept shooting Jax nervous sideways glances. She had almost imperceptibly inched away from them where she sat at the counter, as if wanting to put some distance between herself and the pair. Across the room, the elderly couple was scowling at Gemma and Jax, whispering amongst themselves at the table. 

Oddly enough, neither Jax nor Gemma seemed to notice or react to the negative attention. They were too busy leaning against the counter waiting for their drinks as Abel contentedly munched on his cookie, both mother and son talking in hushed tones. Your smile faltered a little at the wary look you once more caught on the young woman's face before you saw Mia growing flustered behind the counter. Deciding to rescue her, you joined her behind the counter and started on Jax’s coffee–the same order as what you'd made him the other night.

Mia shot you a grateful look as she filled the frothing pitcher with milk. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Smiling as you started on Jax’s coffee, you shook your head at her. “You're making this into something more than it needs to be,” you whispered back. “They're just here for coffee like anyone else.”

Mia leaned over towards you, pausing as she set the frothing wand of the espresso machine into the pitcher. “Usually my customers aren't armed though,” she countered quietly. “That makes a difference.”

“He's not going to shoot you for messing up a coffee order,” you told her as you grabbed a to-go cup for Jax’s coffee.

“You have no proof of that. Just look at his face today, he looks like he'd shoot someone for less,” she murmured.

The loud sound of the milk frothing abruptly ended the conversation as Mia focused back on Gemma's order. As Jax’s coffee began extracting into the pitcher, you couldn’t resist looking over your shoulder to where he and his mother were still leaning against the counter. 

He did look upset, Mia wasn't wrong about that. Both of his brows were pulled marginally together, a slight crease visible between them. His mouth was drawn into a straight line as he listened to whatever Gemma was saying, the corners of his lips occasionally shifting downwards. There was even a noticeable stiffness in the way he was just leaning against the countertop that hadn't been there when you'd met him the other night. But behind all that rigidness that made him look tightly wound, there was an exhaustion in his eyes that seemed like it went further than just a bad night of sleep.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you focused back on the coffee you were making, but a second later an idea struck you. Reaching over beside the stack of to-go cups, you grabbed the black marker used for writing names on orders and began writing something small on the outside of his cup, a faint smile on your lips as you did. Afterwards, you placed the cap on the marker and set it back before you began filling Jax’s cup with the coffee that had finished brewing. As you finished up, you heard Mia turn around and nervously give Gemma her drink. 

Grabbing a lid, you fastened it onto Jax’s cup before also turning around. He was already focused on you, his blue eyes watching as you stepped over to where the pair stood on the other side of the counter. You set Jax's drink down in front of him, a warm and friendly smile on your face. He looked like he could use one–and probably a hug, too, but you figured that would certainly be a weird offer. 

“Thanks, sunshine,” Jax said.

There was the ghost of a smile on his lips for the briefest of moments before it disappeared as his hand reached out, grabbing the cup without looking at it. He looked as if he'd been about to say something more, but the amused huff from Gemma had his expression quickly growing further irritated than it had been a moment ago. 

“Won't bother you today,” Jax told you, pushing off the counter with his ringed hand. “Gotta deal with some shit. But thanks for the coffee.”

A small pang of disappointment hit you when you realized he wasn't going to even chat for a minute, but you figured you should just count it as a win that he had come back into the shop at all. Maybe that meant there’d be a third visit. With a smile still on your lips, you nodded back at him.

“Of course,” you replied. “I'm always happy to fuel a caffeine addiction.”

Gemma laughed a little, shaking her head at what you’d said. It was a line you'd used a few times now and she knew that. 

“You should lay off on snorting those coffee beans, sweetie. You're already plenty perky,” she teased as she grabbed Abel's hand.

“Or maybe that's my secret,” you jokingly countered, enjoying the way Jax seemed to be fighting back a grin as he sauntered over to the counter by the exit to add sweetener into his coffee. “A few lines of freshly ground beans first thing in the morning. Wakes you right up.”

Gemma laughed, the sound loud and genuine. A flood of pride hit you, especially when Jax began securing the lid back on his coffee, his attention on you as an almost cocky, amused grin tugged at his lips. Maybe it was only for a moment, but you’d briefly brightened both of their mornings. 

“You take care, sunshine,” Gemma teased.

She turned and led Abel out of the door, Jax following behind her now with a surly look on his face at the way she’d used his nickname for you. Mia stepped over beside you as they left, watching the three of them cross the street back towards the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow. 

“It’s insanely weird how well you can get along with absolutely anyone,” Mia said after a moment, turning to look over at you standing beside her. “You realize that, right?”

Your smile only grew wider at her words as your eyes remained fixed on the retreating form of Jax. You’d gotten a bit more of a genuine smile out of him today even if you hadn’t gotten much conversation. That was something, at least. Eyes shifting over to Mia, you shrugged a shoulder.

“I like people,” you answered simply.

“The hell you think you’re doing with that girl over there?” Gemma asked sharply.

Her eyes fell on Jax as they passed the line of bikes in front of the clubhouse, Abel’s hand still wrapped around hers as he finished eating his cookie. Jax immediately rolled his eyes at his mother’s tone, not interested in being scolded like he was a teenager all over again.

“I’m not doing anything,” he responded firmly. 

Gemma shot him a pointed look, clearly not buying what he was saying. He huffed in annoyance, stuffing his free hand into his jeans pocket as he brought his coffee cup up to his lips for another drink. Christ, it was still as good as the other night when you’d made him one.

“Bullshit,” Gemma continued. “Sunshine? Really? I’ve never once in my life heard you call a woman that, Jax. And I’ve heard you call them plenty of shit.”

He swallowed down the coffee, his irritation rising with where he felt she was trying to take this conversation. “So what? It’s a goddamn nickname, Gem. You got a problem with a nickname now?” he snapped at her.

Her lips drew into a thin line across her face as she came to an abrupt halt which in turn had Jax stopping just behind her and Abel. The way her eyes narrowed at him meant trouble and he knew it.

“That sweet, nice coffee shop owner back there is not club pussy, Jackson,” she began sternly. “Just because her shop happens to be as close as it is to the clubhouse does not mean–”

“Jesus Christ, relax!” he shouted, cutting her clean off. “You don’t think I know that? I’m not interested in her like that, alright? I just stopped over there the other night because…” 

His voice trailed off for a minute, unable to even try to think of a reason as to why he had, especially with the way Gemma was staring at him right now. Truthfully, he still hadn’t known why he’d gone into your shop the other night in the first place, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you on and off since then. And he certainly had still been watching you through your shop’s windows.

Jax ran a hand across his mouth in agitation before he continued, trying to keep his tone more level. “Look, I stopped in there the other night ‘cause I saw her closing up. She always just looks so goddamn happy and…I dunno. Just made me curious what the hell was up with someone like that, okay? I’m not trying to get her in my bed or anything, Gem. I promise.”

“Better not be,” Gemma warned, her eyes still narrowed at him. “Because that girl is not meant for our world and you know it. She’s far too kind and sweet, she’d probably have a heart attack spending one night around the guys at the clubhouse. And I don’t need you charming your way into her bed and breaking her tender little heart and having her spitting into my coffee whenever I stop in because I birthed a little shit.”

Jax scoffed, pulling a face at her over-dramatic words. “I’m not going to sleep with her. You can calm the hell down already. And I highly doubt she’d ever spit into a coffee, she seems far too nice for that.”

“Not the point,” Gemma countered. 

Jax watched as his mother led his son by the hand back towards TM’s office, a scowl on his face as the noise from the garage rang out around him. Anger flared within Jax from the conversation he’d just had with her. He didn’t know why her warning to stay away from you had him bristling and itching to hit something because she’d been completely right on all fronts. You were a good person and absolutely nothing like the club whores he was used to. Not that he’d had any intention of it, but sleeping with you would certainly end with your heart getting broken because Jax was not a relationship kind of guy–even less so after the bullshit with Tara that made him hate the idea of one even more. And the thought of you knowing any little bit about the things he’d done for the club had his hand tightening around the paper cup of coffee you’d given him. 

Gemma was entirely right. You weren’t someone who belonged in his world. Without a doubt, Jax knew the only thing he’d ever be capable of doing to you would be snuffing out that bright, warm light he found himself strangely drawn to, and that wasn’t something he’d ever want to do to you–even if he barely knew you. 

Teeth gritting together, Jax knew that you’d be better off if he stopped visiting your damn coffee shop. He glanced over at the nearby trash can just outside of the garage. He exhaled a sharp breath and made his way over towards it, reaching his hand out with the mostly full cup of coffee. As it hovered over the open bin, Jax about to drop it into the garbage, black ink hidden behind his hand caught his eye.

Frowning, he pulled the cup back and shifted his hold on it to get a better look. In small, delicate handwriting he saw the words ‘maybe this is the cup.’ Jax’s eyes narrowed in confusion as he reread the line over again, wondering what the hell you’d meant by writing that on his cup. And then he remembered the other night when he’d stopped into your shop and you’d told him you believed a good cup of coffee could make a bad day better or some bullshit along those lines. When he’d disagreed, he remembered your words exactly, hearing your own voice in his head for a moment. 

“You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

An amused breath fell out of Jax as he shook his head at the fucking cup of coffee in his hand, reading what you’d written again–“maybe this is the cup.” You were so goddamn persistent and optimistic, weren’t you? You really thought one of these days that a stupid cup of coffee was going to somehow change his day, didn’t you?

“You’re something else, sunshine,” Jax muttered to the cup in his hand.

He stared at it for a moment longer, his eyes tracing along the lines of black ink before a voice behind him cut through his thoughts. Jax’s head darted over his shoulder, spotting Chibs making his way towards him.

“There ya are, Jackie,” he began. “Was lookin’ for ya. We got an update on that problem, might wanna head to the chapel so we can fill ya in.”

Jax sighed softly, nodding his head at Chibs. “Right,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

He turned around, following Chibs back across the lot to the clubhouse. As he walked, he drew the cup of coffee up to his lips for another drink. When he swallowed the warm liquid down, his gaze inevitably returned to your neat, delicate script beside his fingers. The corner of his lips twitched.

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble)🔮

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

tags: Older Woman/Younger Woman, Slow Burn, Alternative Universe, No Magic AU, Age Gap, Oblivious Lilia Calderu, Yearning, Fluff

summary: I was just looking for a job, not an existential crisis—or a crush on my eccentric, older boss who calls me ‘baby’ like it’s nothing. Now I’m working at her tarot shop, falling harder by the day, and she has no idea I’m flirting. Desperate, I turn to my chaotic friends for help. What could possibly go wrong?

wc: 3.5k (Chapter 1/?)

a/n: this is like the first time posting in forever and I’m kinda scared, but Lilia&aaa really got me writing again. I’m so gay. No magic, just chaotic friends. Also, I aged Billy up because I can’t write kids.

also on ao3

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I’d been looking for a job for what felt like forever. The kind of soul-sucking search that made me wonder if I was doomed to an eternity of scrolling through online postings, drowning in rejection emails, and contemplating whether selling my soul to a demon might be a viable career option. But then, one rainy afternoon, tucked away in the classified section of an old newspaper, an actual newspaper, for God’s sake I found it.

"Seeking shop assistant. Must be comfortable with the mystical and the eccentric. Call: 555-3827."

Did people even put ads in newspapers anymore? And who still had a landline in this century? Curiosity got the better of me, and before I knew it, I was dialing the number, half-expecting it to connect me to a dusty relic of a shop run by someone who spoke only in riddles.

Instead, a smooth, lightly accented voice answered. “Yes, hello?”

And that was the first time I heard Lilia Calderu.

The shop smelled like old books and incense, and the air had that thick, mystical quality that made you feel like you’d stepped into another world. The walls were lined with shelves stacked haphazardly with tarot decks, worn-out copies of books, and shelves of delicate crystal spheres that seemed to hum with some unseen energy.

And then I saw her .

Lilia Calderu stood behind the counter like she’d stepped right out of an old eccentric novel. Her dark curly hair, streaked with grey, was pinned up in a loose bun, with wild tendrils escaping to frame her sharp face. Those deep brown eyes, sharp as a blade, met mine with an amused glint. She had the air of someone who had seen it all and was quietly entertained by it.

“You must be y/n.” She smiled, and something in my chest tightened. “I must say, I wasn’t sure anyone read the paper anymore. Yet, here you are.”

I nodded, feeling far too awkward in her presence. “Yeah. Thought it was a joke at first, honestly.”

She laughed softly, an elegant sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Many people do, but this shop has its ways of finding the right people.” She extended her hand. “Welcome to your new obsession.”

And boy, was she right.

Lilia mostly handled the tarot readings, slipping into that almost trance-like focus as she read fortunes with an effortless grace that made me want to sit there and watch her forever. My job was…well, everything else. Cleaning, organising, taking inventory, manning the register when she was busy. The shop wasn’t exactly bustling, but it had its steady flow of customers mostly the kind who came in with wide eyes and a quiet reverence, seeking answers in the cards.

Lilia and I quickly fell into a rhythm. We’d talk about everything and nothing in between customers, and though she had a dry wit and a quiet confidence, there was a warmth to her that made me feel at ease.

Unfortunately, I also had an embarrassing, all-consuming crush on her.

And Lilia, bless her oblivious heart, did not pick up on my subtle flirting. At all.

I’d linger a little longer when we brushed past each other. I’d compliment her hair, her outfit, the way she shuffled cards like it was second nature. I even tried playful teasing, asking if she’d ever read my cards and tell me if I had a shot with someone older and devastatingly charming.

Nothing. Just a soft smile and a gentle, “Ah, love is such a mysterious thing, isn’t it?”

I should’ve given up.

But instead, I called in reinforcements.

Agatha, Jen, Billy, and Alice had been hearing about Lilia this and Lilia that for weeks. It had gotten so bad that the last time I brought her up over drinks, Agatha groaned and banged her forehead against the table. “y/n, I swear to all the gods, if you don’t make a move, I will.”

Jen sipped her wine, nodding. “I feel like I know this woman better than my own mother at this point.”

Billy leaned in, far too intrigued. “She’s hot, though, right?”

“Billy. ”

“What? I’m just asking.”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, gave me a sympathetic smile. “Alright, we need a plan. Operation ‘Get y/n Laid’ is a go.”

I choked on my drink, while Jen rolled her eyes. “Or, you know, date. ”

Agatha smirked. “I vote chaos.”

And so, it began.

The plan was simple.

Step one: The coven (as my friends liked to call themselves, despite having zero magical abilities) would ‘accidentally’ drop by the shop to scope out Lilia. Subtlety was not their strong suit, but I’d given them a strict list of rules— no embarrassing me, no obvious flirting on my behalf, and under no circumstances could Agatha challenge her to a tarot reading battle.

Step two: Once they confirmed Lilia was, in fact, into women (something I was still trying to figure out without outright asking), they’d casually encourage me to ask her out.

Step three: Success. Or mortifying failure.

I should’ve known better.

The day of the plan, they arrived with the grace of a train wreck. The bell above the shop door chimed, and in they strolled. Agatha with her signature overconfidence, Jen trying to look composed, and Billy and Alice whispering conspiratorially behind them.

Lilia, who had been arranging a set of tarot decks, looked up with mild interest. “New customers?” she mused.

I winced. “Uh, yeah. Friends.”

Agatha stepped forward, extending a hand with a grin that was far too wolfish for my liking. “Agatha. Nice shop you have here.”

Lilia took her hand with that calm, effortless grace. “Thank you. I do my best.” She glanced over at me with a raised brow. “I see y/n has been spreading the word.”

Alice beamed. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Kill me.

Lilia was polite but wary, and I could tell she picked up on something , whether it was the fact that they were clearly vetting her or just the general chaos my friends brought with them. But she handled it like she handled everything else: with quiet amusement and a touch of suspicion.

I could also see the way she lingered on me when she thought I wasn’t looking, the way she’d glance over when Agatha not-so-subtly hinted at my interest in “older, experienced women.”

And when Billy, in all his chaotic energy, ‘accidentally’ knocked over a shelf, Lilia just sighed and gave me a look that said, this is your problem now.

God, I was so gone for her.

I didn’t know if the plan was working, but when I caught Lilia watching me across the shop, her expression softer, more contemplative than usual, I had a feeling things were shifting.

I just had to make sure I didn’t screw it up.

The coven’s “casual” visit stretched far longer than I’d anticipated, and Lilia, ever the picture of grace and patience entertained their probing questions with a wry amusement that had me both sweating and swooning.

“So,” Agatha drawled, leaning casually on the counter, “how long have you been in town? A woman like you must have quite the stories.”

Lilia smiled knowingly, her dark eyes glinting. “Oh, I’ve been here longer than most would guess. The shop’s been in my family for generations, though I suppose I’ve... modernised it in my own way.”

Jen, ever the detective, sipped her overpriced coffee and murmured, “Modernised? You still have a landline.”

Lilia shot her a look that could cut glass. “It has a certain charm.”

I stifled a laugh behind my hand.

Billy, who’d been poking around the shelves, suddenly perked up. “So, Lilia, do you do, like, love spells?”

I nearly choked on air.

Lilia tilted her head, tapping a perfectly manicured finger on the counter. “Love spells are tricky,” she mused, her voice low and velvety. “You can’t make someone fall in love, you know. Only... reveal what’s already there.”

My face burned so hot I thought I might spontaneously combust. Agatha shot me a smug grin, and I swore I’d kill her later.

Lilia, however, seemed unbothered. If anything, she was watching me with a knowing glint, as if she’d caught the edge of something in my expression.

“Love is a delicate thing,” she continued, her gaze still on me. “It’s best handled with care.”

Jen snorted. “Tell that to y/n.”

I groaned. “Alright, you guys have had your fun. Let’s not traumatise my boss any further.”

Lilia’s lips quirked up. “Oh, y/n, it takes much more than this to rattle me.”

And with that, my brain short-circuited.

Once I’d finally wrangled my friends out the door—after no less than three separate goodbyes and a thinly veiled attempt by Agatha to invite Lilia to a “casual” group outing—I collapsed against the counter with a groan.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into my hands. “They’re... a lot.”

Lilia chuckled softly, arranging a set of tarot cards in a neat pile. “They’re delightful.” She paused, her voice quieter. “They care about you.”

I peeked up at her through my fingers. “They do. Sometimes too much.”

She gave me that soft, unreadable smile that made my stomach twist in knots. “That’s never a bad thing.”

There was a moment of silence, comfortable yet charged. I watched her work, her fingers deft and graceful, and I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like trailing over my skin.

Which, of course, led to me blurting out the world’s most humiliating sentence.

“So, uh... are you single?”

Lilia’s hands stilled. She looked up at me, one perfectly arched brow lifting.

Oh. Oh no.

I swallowed thickly. “I—I mean, just curious. You know, for... um... business reasons?”

She stared at me for a long beat before a slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “Business reasons?”

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. “I’ll shut up now.”

To my absolute horror, she looked amused . “No, I don’t mind the question,” she said, voice smooth and far too indulgent. “Yes, y/n, I am single.”

My brain froze. “Oh. Cool.”

I was going to die. Right here. In this shop.

Lilia leaned on the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “And you?”

Me? Functioning? Unlikely.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “Very single. Like... aggressively single.”

She laughed, a low, rich sound that made my knees weak. “Aggressively?”

I groaned. “I have a lot of free time.”

She gave me a long, thoughtful look, and for the first time, I saw something flicker in her expression, curiosity? Interest? God, I hoped so.

“Well,” she said finally, “perhaps we should do something about that.”

I blinked. “Do something?”

Lilia just smiled. “You’ll see, baby.”

I was definitely going to die.

I called Agatha that night in full-blown panic.

“She called me baby, Agatha. She called me baby. ”

On the other end of the line, Agatha groaned. “And you didn’t throw yourself at her feet?”

“I panicked!” I hissed. “I just stood there like an idiot and nodded!”

Jen’s voice chimed in. “Classic y/n.”

Billy snorted. “You need to make a move before someone else does.”

Alice, ever the gentle voice of reason, hummed. “Maybe she’s interested in you, y/n. She wouldn’t call you ‘baby’ if she wasn’t, right?”

“I don’t know,” I whined. “She’s so cool, and she’s older, and I feel like a dumb kid around her.”

Agatha clicked her tongue. “You’re not a dumb kid. You’re a hot, chaotic disaster, and that’s charming. Now, listen, next time you see her, flirt intentionally. Make it obvious.”

“Oh yeah, because that’s gone so well before.”

“No more subtlety,” Agatha said firmly. “You need to show her you’re serious. Flirt, y/n. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could laugh in my face?”

“She won’t,” Alice assured me. “She hired you, didn’t she? That means she likes you.”

I sighed, flopping onto my bed. 

The next morning, I walked into the shop, determined. Lilia glanced up from where she was rearranging the display, her smile soft.

"Good morning, y/n."

I swallowed hard, shoving down the nervous energy bubbling in my chest. "Morning, Lilia."

She tilted her head, observing me for a moment. "You look... focused today. A special occasion?"

"Oh, uh... just trying to be more productive," I said quickly, forcing a smile and internally cursing myself. I had one job: flirt. Be charming. Sweep her off her feet. Instead, I was standing there like a starstruck teenager.

Lilia gave me an amused glance, completely unaware of the internal screaming happening inside my head. "Well, productivity is always admirable," she said, turning back to her tarot deck. "Let me know if you need something to do, baby."

Baby. There it was again.

I nearly tripped over my own feet on the way to the back room.

Later that evening, I flopped onto Agatha's couch with a dramatic groan. "It's hopeless."

Billy, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn, rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless. There's a difference."

Alice patted my knee reassuringly. "Tell us what happened this time."

I sat up, rubbing my hands over my face. "She called me baby again."

Jen raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And?" I repeated incredulously. "I blacked out! Just stood there like a moron and stammered something about productivity!"

Agatha groaned, sipping her wine. "You are acting like the least seductive person I have ever met, and I have literally watched you seduce people before. What happened to that y/n?"

I threw my hands in the air. "That y/n wasn't crushing on someone three times my age who also happens to be the most sophisticated, intimidating woman I've ever met!"

Billy snickered. "You're acting like she's some kind of ancient vampire."

I glared. "She might be, okay? I don't know her life."

Jen smirked. "You could get to know it. Y'know, if you asked her out."

"That's not how this works!" I groaned, leaning back against the couch. "I need subtlety. "

Agatha rolled her eyes so hard I was worried they'd get stuck. "y/n. Sweetheart. You've been subtle for weeks, and she hasn't picked up on a damn thing."

"She has to know," I insisted. "She’s too smart not to have figured it out."

Alice smiled kindly. "Or maybe she’s just... not looking for it? You said she’s wary of the age gap, right?"

I sighed. "Yeah. I get the feeling she’s aware of it, but she doesn’t say anything. It’s just little things, like, if I compliment her, she brushes it off like I’m just being nice. She never takes it seriously."

Jen hummed thoughtfully. "Sounds like she's putting up a little barrier. Maybe she's worried it's inappropriate?"

Agatha smirked. "So we need to show her it's very appropriate."

Billy nodded eagerly. "Okay, Get y/n Laid 101 is officially back in session."

"Can we call it something else?" I muttered.

"No," Agatha said flatly. "This is what we're calling it." She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "Here's the new plan. We need to escalate. No more lingering looks and awkward compliments. We go big. We're talking bold flirting, unmistakable signals. She won't be able to ignore it."

I groaned. "Agatha, I don't do bold. I trip over air when she looks at me for too long."

Jen smirked. "Then it's time to fake it till you make it."

Billy grinned. "You know what would help? A little jealousy."

I groaned again. "No."

"Yes," Agatha said, pointing at Billy. "Yes. We make her jealous."

"Guys, this isn't a teen drama," I whined. "What am I supposed to do? Flirt with some random customer in front of her?"

Agatha snapped her fingers. "Exactly!"

Alice frowned. "That seems a little childish."

Jen shrugged. "It could work."

I buried my face in my hands. "You’re all terrible."

Billy patted my arm. "We're terrible, but we're effective."

The next day at the shop, I was feeling good. Confident, even. The plan was simple, escalate my flirting game, but not with Lilia just yet. No, I needed to show her what she was missing. And I was good at flirting. Really good. Just… not with her. Lilia was an enigma, a walking temptation wrapped in decades of experience and elegance, and I turned into an absolute idiot in her presence.

But with other women? That was easy.

The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up to see a gorgeous customer stepping in, tall, blonde, and effortlessly stylish. She glanced around the shop with interest, her gaze landing on me, and I caught the faintest flicker of a smile. I could work with that.

I straightened my posture, strolling over with a relaxed smile. “Welcome in,” I said smoothly, letting my voice drop just enough to be inviting. “Looking for anything in particular? Or just... browsing?”

She smiled, intrigued. “A little of both, I think.”

“Oh, mystery.” I leaned lightly on the counter, letting my fingers trace the edge of a crystal display. “I like that. Means you might need a guide.”

She laughed softly, tilting her head in a way that told me she was enjoying this. “And I suppose you’re volunteering?”

I grinned. “I’m more than qualified.”

We slipped into an easy banter, her eyes bright with interest as I smoothly navigated between flirtation and shop talk. She leaned in a little closer, and I let my gaze linger, deliberate and playful.

And then I felt it.

That unmistakable presence.

I glanced up and yep. Lilia was watching from across the room, her dark eyes focused, her expression unreadable. She was leaning against the shelf, book in hand, but I could tell she hadn’t turned a page in a while.

I ignored the way my pulse jumped and turned my attention back to the blonde, offering her a charming smile. “So,” I said, handing her a small charm, “this one’s for luck. Not that you look like you need it.”

She laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re good at this.”

“I try.”

Lilia’s voice cut through the moment like a blade, smooth, unhurried, but somehow commanding all the same. “y/n.”

I turned, heart skipping a beat. “Yeah?”

She strolled over, eyes flicking between me and the blonde. “Everything alright here?”

The blonde woman, oblivious, smiled. “Just getting some expert advice.”

Lilia hummed, arching a brow at me. “I see.” There was nothing in her tone that hinted at jealousy, but something lingered beneath it, something sharp and assessing. “Why don’t you help me with something in the back when you’re done?”

It wasn’t a request.

I swallowed. “Sure, just a sec.”

The blonde handed me the charm with a wink. “I think I’ll take this. Lucky, right?”

I rang her up, feeling Lilia’s presence like a shadow at my back the entire time. When the customer finally left with a lingering glance over her shoulder, I turned to Lilia with what I hoped was a nonchalant smile. “What’s up?”

She studied me for a moment, then gestured toward the back room. “Come on.”

I followed her, nerves prickling under my skin. Was she... mad? Intrigued? God, I couldn’t tell. She closed the door behind us and crossed her arms, regarding me with that maddeningly unreadable expression.

“Flirting with customers now?” she asked, tone light but with an edge I couldn’t quite place.

I shrugged, leaning against the wall. “It’s good for business.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she didn’t quite smile. “Mm. I suppose it is.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy with something unsaid. She tilted her head, studying me like she was piecing together a puzzle. And then, just as quickly as she’d pulled me aside, she turned back toward the shelf, and pointed at the boxes to unpack, business as usual. “Well,” she said, voice as smooth as ever, “let’s try to keep things professional, baby.”

And there it was again. Baby. The way she said it effortless, affectionate, and utterly devastating.

I cleared my throat. “Got it. Professional.”

But as I left the back room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Lilia wasn’t quite as unaffected as she seemed.

That night, I sat at Agatha’s with my head in my hands. “She pulled me into the back room.”

Jen perked up. “Wait, what? ”

Billy nearly dropped his drink. “Define ‘pulled into the back room.’”

“Not like that,” I groaned. “She just... I don’t know, it felt like she was calling me out for flirting, but it wasn’t clear if she was mad or—”

“Jealous,” Agatha supplied smugly. “She was jealous. ”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, frowned. “Or she thought you were being unprofessional.”

Agatha waved a hand. “Unprofessional, please. y/n’s been working there for weeks with no complaints. She definitely noticed.”

Billy grinned. “What did she say exactly?”

I sighed. “She told me to keep things professional. Baby. ”

Jen’s eyes widened. “She called you baby again? ”

I nodded miserably. “I’m losing my mind.”

Agatha leaned in with a smirk. “Then we escalate. She’s watching now.”

I groaned, burying my face in a pillow. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because you actually like her,” Alice said gently. “And that makes everything ten times scarier.”

I peeked out from the pillow. “So what do I do?”

Agatha smirked. “You keep flirting, y/n. But this time, aim it at the right woman.”