#to me this smacks of find a use for something they developed without having a use first

[awkward-teabag]

I keep seeing people respond to the Microsoft Recall bullshit with there's an ability to disable it and that misses the point. Several points in fact.

It's only a matter of time until an update bugs/"bugs" it and re-enables it without warning so people who had previously disabled it think they're in the clear until their info is leaked or they get a warning they're low on storage space.

If people don't have admin rights, they may not be able to disable it. Laptops given by work or school lock down what people can do with them, some going as far as dictating which browser one has to use on them. Even if you don't need admin rights to disable Recall, you may not have the ability to do so without losing the laptop and/or job and/or education.

I'm unsure of how it would handle multiple accounts but if it can be locked by someone else to always be enabled, children and people in abusive situations would also be unable to disable it. Even if it can't be locked, disabling it could result in punishment from a parent or the abuser.

Is it really disabled or is it "disabled" in that what the user sees is it being disabled while it's still collecting information and/or sending information to Microsoft in the background?

Such a feature should never have been automatically enabled in the first place. It's bad, predatory design to have such a feature enabled from the start and to expect users AKA customers to go out of their way to look up and then opt-out of something.

If disabling it really disables it, it can still result in stress and concern that it's not. The vast majority of people do not have the skills or knowledge to look into the OS guts to give themselves peace of mind that it really truly is disabled.

I'm sure I'm missing some, too.

TLDR is disabling is a bandaid someone else may rip off for you, someone may hurt you if you use, it may not work at all except as a placebo, and should have never been needed in the first place.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU pt 4

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.

Part 5 is here.

Two weeks had passed since you and Baldwin had met Salauddin. As much as you tried to stay in your room to try and work on your time machine a bit, Sibylla was far too excited with the wedding preparations and was dragging you along. Even the maids were too eager to do everything, be it dressing you up or accompanying you around the castle. You suppose it was their way of trying to get in your good graces so that you'll choose them to be your court ladies. Its all politics really. The few moments that you did try to have for yourself, they'd be with Baldwin. You cant ever have meals without him, even if you were sneaky. You theorised that Baldwin probably had someone in the kitchen to inform him the moment you're having a meal made so that he can join you too (and proceed to handfeed you the first and last bite from his plate).

You decide its finally time to bring up the agenda you had in mind. "Baldwin?" You call softly, earning a surprised look from him because he's used to your admonishing tone. "Yes, princess?" he quickly closes his book, giving you his full attention.

"Do you think... it could be arranged for me to travel?" He raised a brow. "Travel? Where?"

You mustered up the courage. "Egypt."

"Egypt? Why?" Of course he was alarmed because at the time Egypt was under Muslim rule, and Salauddin was the sultan of Egypt. It was his territory and it was far too.

"Why not? I thought you said you would show me the world." You reminded him of his promise when he was trying to bribe you into marrying him.

He sighed and nodded. "That can be arranged. Come on, now." He took your hand and pulled you towards him as he moved towards the corner of his room, keeping you facing him. "I always keep my promises, princess." He whispered kissing your chin before turning you around to face the mirror.

"See? Now you've seen the world. In fact-" He spins you back to him before turning you towards the mirror again. "-ooh! Now you've seen the world twice!" He keeps on spinning you back and forth a couple of more times making you laugh before you get dizzy and lightly smack his arm.

"Be serious for once, Baldwin!" You glare at him. "Dont you get tired from your flirting attempts?"

His eyes twinkled as he cupped your face with his hands. "Never!"

With your face still in his hands, you repeated your request. "I want to go to Egypt, Baldwin." "But why? Do you want something from there? Because I can have it brought here-"

"No." You cant believe you have to manipulate him. Eh, he'll get over it. "I... I dont have a family, Baldwin. I was an orphan and well- things werent great at my orphanage, so I ran away. I wanted to find out about my family, about my parents. What happened to them. So I've been travelling here and there. I suppose thats how I developed an interest in history." You could seem his resolve melting with the way his eyes softened, so you continued on. "Please, let me go to Egypt. I think... I think I might find some clues about my family there. And if I dont..." you chuckled. "Well, I could always write something on Salauddin."

"Do you really want to go?" You nodded eagerly. He smiled. "Alright. I'll talk to Salauddin. If he gives permission, then you can go. I dont think I could accompany you there. Guy has been stirring up some problems here and I cant have him try to start a rebellion."

"Its okay, I can go alone." "Well, not alone. I'll send my best knights along." Shit. Oh well. Better them than Baldwin.

Breaking the pattern for once, you decided to initiate affection and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Baldwin!" You heard him inhale sharply, his body stilling for a moment before his arms slowly but surely wrapped around your frame, and you felt him melt into you a bit. This is psychology 101, okay? Pavlov's dog experiment, if you reward him for "good behaviour", he is more prone to be "good".

If only you knew this may have been the first time in more than a decade that he's been hugged. And now that he has... it only cements more in his mind that your hugs are his- you are his.

-

As expected, Salauddin agreed and allowed you to come to Egypt. However, Baldwin still delayed your trip by almost a week under the pretence to make "necessary arrangements for your trip".

It was just him trying to find excuses to make you stay longer, or even change your mind about leaving at all.

"You know it's going to be soooo hot in Egypt? What if you get a heat stroke?"

"I'm going with Salauddin. He's been living in the desert for so long, I'm sure he'll teach me how to protect myself from the sun."

"You- what if you get thirsty? You won't get cold water!"

You looked at him baffled. "Salauddin literally had a box of ice in the desert- he served us ice water. Did you forget? I'm beginning to think you might be suffering from a heat stroke."

He huffed. "Surely, you cant be safe in Egypt without me by your side. People will attack you for being my weakness!"

Your heart skipped a beat. I'm his weakness?

You shake your head. Not the time. "How would they even recognise me? I'd be in a niqaab! Besides, I thought you were sending your "best knights" with me." You said turning around to fold your clothes.

Baldwin's hand reached for your wrist and he pulled you back to him, your body stiffening against his hard chest. Damn, how long did he work out for? Just a few weeks ago, he couldnt even stand for long without passing out.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. "I'll miss you." He mumbled, and the corner of your mouth quirked up. "I know." You replied as you tried to break out of his arms and return to your packing. But Baldwin spun you around, his brows furrowed. "You wont miss me?" His eyes held deep concern, while his voice reminded you of a scared child.

He's adorable.

His grip on your arms tightened the longer you stayed silent. Fearing he'd change his mind about the trip, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours, staring into his eyes.

"No." Hurt flashed through across those blue pools, but you continued. "Because the mere thought that you would be waiting here for me will make me want to return home early." His face softened.

"Home? You consider this your home?" He whispered, clearly affected by your words.

Oh, he's about to die when he hears what you've got next.

Your eyes smiled. "You're my home, Baldwin." You knew if this was an anime, then right now Baldwin would be animated with a pink background with halo behind him, and probably cupids shooting arrows and crying.

His reaction proved you right. Baldwin pulled you in for a tight hug, hiding his head into your shoulder and before you either of you could react, you both fell on your bed, though Baldwin didnt let go of you.

When he finally pulled away, he caressed your cheek with one hand. "What?" you asked with a lazy smile. He didnt say anything, just kept tracing your face with his fingers, looking at you as if he was in a trance. Considering you were leaving tomorrow, you didnt move from the bed. You didnt want to break whatever fantasy Baldwin was in (truthfully, you didnt have the heart for it. He looked like something was healing inside him.) So you stayed there next to him, letting Baldwin run his fingers though your hair and falling asleep to that.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered to himself, still looking at you in awe.

Baldwin didnt sleep that night. No, he wanted to memorise your face.

-

The next morning, you were sent off with a small entourage, even though Baldwin wanted to send you with a bigger one, but you reasoned with him that a large group of people would only draw more attention to you.

"Be safe, princess." Baldwin said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled and nodded. "I'll be back before you know it." He gave you a lopsided smile before pulling out a pouch and placing it in your hands. It was heavy. "I have given the knight commander gold to cater to your every need, buy anything you like but- I still want you to have this. Just in case." You peeked into the pouch and your eyes bulged out at the gold coins in there. "Its too much, Baldwin. I cant take-" He cupped your cheek. "I insist. If- God forbid, things go wrong, I want you to use this to get out." You leaned into his touch. "Nothing will happen to me, Baldwin." He prays so (he and his church is praying for your safe journey). "I know, but please- keep it. For my peace of mind." You finally conceded, giving him a hug before starting your journey.

From Jerusalem, you first reached Salauddin's caravan in the desert, where the Kurdish leader was waiting for you.

"So, have you come up with a plan to leave Baldwin?" He asked, guiding you inside his tent, taking note of the niqaab you were wearing. It was the one Baldwin had helped embroirdered for you- he recognised the ugly flower on your sleeve.

"Its not a priority at the moment." You lied, deciding it wouldnt be good to reveal all your cards to him. After all, he is a conquerer. You dont know what kind of games he may be playing.

He raised a brow at you, setting up the chess board. "Then why are you going to Egypt?" He wanted to gauge your expressions, but your eyes were solely focused on the chess board as you made the first move.

"I have some matters to take care of. Personal matters." You watched him move his black pawn.

"Anything I could help with?" He asked. You took his bishop. "No, you have already helped a lot. Thank you. But I must ask- how did you just agree to Baldwin when he asked if I could go to Egypt?"

He scoffed, taking your knight. "You think I did this for free? Please, your husband had to pay a pretty penny to take his "little heaven's angel" through the desert safely. Honestly, how have you bewitched him?" Salauddin gazed at you. "Either he's too stupid or you're much smarter than you look, the latter is something I highly doubt, so it only leads to one conclusion- Baldwin is stupid." He mocked.

"Hey! Dont insult my fiance." You admonished, looking back at the board to make your next move. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, looking at you expectantly. "Or else what?"

Your eyes finally made contact with his, and he could feel he had insulted you somehow. "Or else... you'll regret it." You threatened, which he didnt take seriously, because- why would he? You're nobody.

His eyes lit up. "If you were any less threatening, Y/n, you'd be a dandelion." You rolled your eyes, clearly not amused. "Say whatever you want, but you and I both know you didnt do it for the money."

"What do you mean?"

"Mmhm, I dont know. Dont you have enough money already? I think- oh, you made a mistake there." you smirked taking his queen and now his king was left wide open for attack. "I think... you were scared to say no."

"Excuse me?" He moved his king. You chased him with your knight.

"You heard me." Your rook pushed his king into the corner. Frustratedly, he tries to escape by moving his king diagonally, but you were quicker with your bishop.

"Why would I be afraid of a man whose own brother-in-law is starting a rebellion against him and he's been allowing him to do so just because his sister claims to love him?" He taunted at the messed up family dynamics. Of course he knew how ready Baldwin was to give his kingdom away to Guy to be perished, but that was before he was cured of his leprosy.

You had boxed his king from all sides. No escape. "Why wouldnt you be? The same man was only just a 16 year old when he defeated you on the battlefield devastatingly. And that too, when he was so sick, his face was melting off." You knocked down his king. "Can you imagine how strong he is now that he's cured?"

His anger was subtle. Eyes glaring at you, mouth pulled into a thin line, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.

Clearly, you had struck a nerve.

"You shouldn't play with fire." He warned. You twirled his king between your fingers. "Who said I was playing?"

You both sat in silence for a few more moments, with you mostly relishing in your victory. "So, what do I get for winning again?"

His eyes narrowed, though they werent as hostile as they were a few moments ago, "You get to keep your head."

"Am I always playing for my life everytime we play chess?" "Yes." "Huh. So how does it feel to know that I will outlive you?" You teased, making him roll his eyes as he stood up, leading you out of his tent.

"My men are going to accompany you to Egypt. They're ready, so-" he looked at you with a scowl. "Leave."

"Aww, thank you, aljedu!" You waved, leaving before he could get mad at you for calling him "grandpa".

-

The journey to Egypt took a little over 4 days, but you really cant complain with the small army of people at your service. Even the men and women Salauddin had sent with you made sure to cater your every need, and more importantly, help you and your entourage survive the desert.

The pyramids were still as magnificent as in the future, though the area was now surrouded by a bustling market of sorts. As your caravan moved further into the town, you saw a large centre built that had the traditional Islamic architecure elements- huge domes, minarets, white pillars. The colourful tile works (prominents turqoise and dark blue themes) and a few gothic arches displayed the catholic influence as well.

"What's that?" You had asked one of the knights. "Thats the madarasas." You nodded as you recalled reading about it in "the golden age of Islam" era. Madarasa was essentially an educational institution that were devoted to the study of law, maths, science, medicine, religion, philosphy and other subjects. The complex itself consisted of a mosque, a library, a boarding house. They were home to both students and professors, and were maintained by charitable endowments and unlike a modern day college, it lacked a specific curriculum or institutionalise system of certification. Information was usually passed on informally from teacher to student, and both men and women were able to attend.

It was heaven for anyone who seeked to learn, and this was exactly where you would be going to get help for your time machine.

But that would have to wait, as you were now lead to Salauddin's palace for rest. It was massive and just like the madarasa, it was also beautifully constructed. The palace spread over on a large area of land, and although it was was around 80-100 feet in height with those humongous pillars at each corner, the palace was largest in horizontal dimensions. Inside, after passing a throng of soldiers stationed who kept their gaze lowered even though she and most of the females were completely veiled, you saw a huge pool that continued throughout the palace, even through sharp corners. It almost looked like the castle was built around the turquoise pool. Despite it being hot as hell outside, the palace was cool and insulated even though there were no air conditioners or fans and was open enough to be well ventilated. You had seen the palm date trees through the city, but there was a huge new variety of exotic plants inside that you dont think would be able to survive in the desert.

Egyptians were truly ahead of their time.

-

After dinner, you were sitting in your room with your maids. They were talking about the hospitality of Muslims and all, helping you unpack and get ready for bed.

"Alright, time to sleep." You said with a yawn and they all immediately began leaving. All but one maid, who had to stay by your side at all times even when you were bathing. Apparently, Baldwin had ordered her to do so because he didnt trust anyone in the foreign lands.

"You can go to your chambers with the others, Isabella." You smiled politely at the blonde girl, no older than 19. She shook her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "No, princess. It is my duty to be with you at all times. What if you need me for something?"

"I wont." You smiled tightly. The sooner she left, the sooner you could sneak out of here and go to the madarasa. "You must be tired from all the travel. Please, go rest. I insist." But it was like she couldnt imagine committing a grave sin like this.

Fine. If she's not going to leave then-

"Isabella..." you come close to her, fiddling with your thumbs. "Can I trust you, Isabella?"

She nodded obediently. "Of course, my princess."

"I need to get out of the palace for some time." You tell her slowly, letting her absorb the words. Automatically, she responds. "I can have them arrange a tour tomorrow-"

"No, Isabella-" you let out a distressed sigh, rubbing your forehead as you paused for a dramatic effect. "I need to go out right now."

"Now? At night time?" The young girl wondered what possible emergency you could possibly have. "Oh, um- well, I can have the guards prepare a-"

"No!" You turned around, reaching for her hands. Isabella's eyes widened. A princess- royalty is touching her? You tilted your head sligtly, eyes making a desperate plea.

"I have business that I need to take care of on my own. I-" you sigh dramatically before looking at her with most remorseful eyes. "I have to find my family. I need to- I cant get married without them attending. I- I- just need them and I know! I know they're here! I can feel it!" Isabella's face softened at your "distress" but you can still see her hesitance, and so before she could protest, you squeezed her hands. "I tell everyone I am an orphan but- the the truth is... I was a slave. I was stolen from my family and- and I was raised with other slaves. It wasnt until I was 8 that I had ran away. I've been running from my owners for a long time, all while trying to find my family. I dont care if they're dead but- I need to know. I need to know, Isabella. You... you understand why, right?"

Tears slipped from Isabella's eyes as she nodded her head feverently.

"Of course I do, princess!"

-

You pulled your shawl around you tighter. Temperatures really did drop significantly at night in deserts. You were now standing outside the madarasa you had seen earlier in the day after convincing Isabella to stay behind and pretend to be you under the covers in bed while you went out.

The building was much more quiet now, although the market was still alive but people were less and everyone was mindful of how much noise they made.

You quietly walked into the madarasa, pretending to be one of the several servants who were entering the place. Inside, the area was designed in the shape of a rectangle without a roof in the center. The moon light illuminated the common ground in the middle while lanterns were lit all around the 4 sides, numerous doors on each side.

Keeping your veiled head down, you walked past many scholars and students. You wanted to enter a room, but with all the doors closed, you feared you'd enter the wrong room with someone who wouldnt be as forgiving to a stranger entering this place.

But luck was on your side tonight, as your eyes finally caught sight of an ajar door, and you slipped in once you noticed no one was currently in the room. The room was far more spacious than you had anticipated and even though the equipment was far too old, you recognised it to be a sort of lab. Nearing the desk in the corner, you noticed some papers spread around with some maths done. Even though the numbers were in Arabic, you recognised it- algebra.

"What are you doing here, woman?" You look upto find a man in his late 30s with a white turban and a black beard looking at you angrily. "Who sent you here? By Allah! Leave right now or I will have you punished for trespassing and attempting to seduce a pious man you devil-"

"I'll leave but I cant go without correcting your error." You said pointing to his papers.

He blinked at you. "What error?"

You laughed tauntingly. "Im surprised you dont see it." The man's brows furrowed as he marched over to you. "There is no error! I am the finest mathematician of this decade, if not century! I study astrology, biology, physics, alchemy, philosophy and you dare tell me that I made an error?! I am Al-Abbas ibn Bashir! Who are you to correct me woman?!"

You stared at him unamused. "The square root of 8 is not equal to the square root of 4 + square root of 4." You said pointing at his paper. He squinted at you, trying to process your words before looking where you were pointing.

"Yes, it is. It is additive-"

"Not everything is additive." You sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and solving the question step by step for him. "See? Square root of 8 is 2.818 while square root of 4 is 2, so since we have two square roots if 4, it'll be 2 plus 2, which adds to 4."

You sat down on his chair while he looked over your explanation, trying to find an error in your work. There were none.

Abbas looked at you, brows still furrowed. "You- fine, you are correct. I made a small error-" "Small?" You teased. "Yes, small!" He snapped back as you chuckled. He continued. "But that doesnt explain what youre doing in my office. Who are you?"

You rested your head on your palm and stared at him. "I have work for you."

"And what might that be?"

"Hmm, depends. Are your studies purely theory based or... experimental as well?"

Abbas gave you a nod. "I like to mainly focus on theories, but I like to test my theories as well, so from time to time, I do have to conduct experiments as well."

"Fantastic!" You straightened up and grabbed a paper as you began drawing a tool. "Here, I have mentioned the dimensions and I need you to engineer this for me." He took the paper from you. "What exactly is it?"

"I cannot tell you." "Why?" "Well, I'm a scientist too, and I dont want you to stealing my work." You replied as you pulled out your coin purse that Baldwin had given you. "I suppose this would be sufficient for you?" You placed 5 gold coins in front of him.

Abbas scoffed. "You think you can buy me? I dont care for money!" He stood up, turning away from you.

You raised your brow. "Name your price."

He shook his head. "I cannot be bought, woman. I am a man of science. I have far more important things to be doing with my time-"

"Like making more mistakes?" He glared at you. "One small error. Thats all it was. Besides, just because I made a small miscalculation doesnt mean youre smarter than me."

You smiled under your veil.

"Wanna test that?"

-

Abbas had decided to work for you after you had outsmarted him in every subject he presented. I mean you only had to touch the basics of what you had learned in 6th grade science class but he was- bamboozled.

After he had recovered from his shock, he had agreed to work for you on the condition that you check his work for mistakes and impart some of you teachings. He swears he wont copy any of your "works". You gave him the gold coins and told him to work under complete discretion and that you'd meet him again in 3 days time, when you're ready to return to Jerusalem.

The plan was to collect your tool from him and then give him a couple more tools to design which you would collect 2 weeks later when you visited Egypt again. Because while you do need to work on your time machine, you also need to find ways for Baldwin to go to war with Salauddin again, because originally Baldwin dies of leprosy, but since you already cured that... you need to find a way for Baldwin to die and so far, a war seems to be the only answer.

But youve seen their relationship... Baldwin and Salauddin wouldn't simply jeopardise everything like that. They have a good bond, a strong friendship even.

However, if highschool has taught you anything, even the closest friendships end because of misunderstandings.

And so, a week later, you were back in Jerusalem with your new tool and a new plan in mind.

You walked up the stairs and towards Baldwin's office. Since you had arrived earlier than he was expecting, you wanted to surprise him. Honestly, you missed him and his adorable expressions-

You stopped at the foot of the door, your heart dropping at the sight.

Baldwin and a woman... kissing.

Thoughts? Also send asks

[hauntedhokage]

miscommunication

summary: Toge's been distant, you finally confront him to find out why

word count: 2.5k

warnings: explicit sexual content (minors dni), emotional conflict, Inumaki uses his cursed speech

note: for my beloved @silverrings-n-prettythings who drew some inspirational Inumaki art. Ily bbygirl

It felt like with every day that passed, he’d become more distant. Late nights that were once spent talking about the future, kisses exchanged between soft touches and other intimate gestures that replaced the words that he couldn’t use himself, turned into nights spent apart with you going to bed alone and waking up with cold sheets and a note. Did he love you anymore? You weren’t sure, and that uncertainty hurts more. The anxiety that came with waiting for that shoe to drop - waiting for the note written in his messy handwriting that tells you that he didn’t love you and wanted to separate. 

What would you do if it came to that? A life without him didn’t feel like something that you could do, considering the way he’d steadily been a constant in your life over the past year. Nobody made tea the way he did, or knew exactly how to scratch the itch at the base of your scalp when it was bothering you. Squeezes of your hand in his when you were feeling anxious, how it felt to be wrapped around him after a particularly rough mission - the despair you felt when he left, and the relief when he returned. 

These things all became constants, things you’d come to expect like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Your sunrise was Inumaki Toge; morning, afternoon, midday and the evenings - but you’re worried that the sun was beginning to set on your relationship. You didn’t think it was fair for him to just distance himself, not even try to talk to you about what was bothering him that he’d feel the need to do this to you. Even with his limited verbal communication ability, you’d spend hours on the couch texting back and forth or learning sign language to develop something that was more efficient than texting and note writing. 

Tonight was worse than any other night, only because you’d had plans. Plans made in advance; plans to stay in and have a nice dinner, play some silly board and card games, and then cuddle up for a movie or two. Plans that he was now two hours late for, plans that had you sitting at a dinner table with two plates of a dinner that was a blend of his and your favorite dishes. Dinner that was now about as cold as you’re Toge felt about you, dinner that had you crying as you stood to pick up the plates that clearly wouldn’t be touched tonight. To punish yourself; you’d probably eat the leftovers for a couple days, reminding yourself that Toge would rather do anything but share a meal with you. 

The front door opening has you slamming the fridge shut, and you’re making eye contact with your boyfriend as he takes his shoes off. Your obvious emotional state has him immediately concerned, closing in on you to try and assess the situation until your hands smack him away to put some space between you both. 

“You don’t get to pretend to care after missing game night for the third week in a row.” Your statement has his eyes widening, phone coming out of his pocket while his other hand pulls his collar down. “Don’t even bother, Toge, I get it. You don’t love me anymore and you’re tired of pretending, so you don’t have to pretend anymore! And to think I started taking sign language classes just for you to…”

You turn away as his fingers start to rapidly tap against the screen, needing to clean up the table and finish cleaning the kitchen. The whole time, though, you can’t stop talking at him. Telling him that you know he thinks you’re more of a burden because you don’t have any cool talents like his, that you must be overbearing since you like to know his schedule, how awful you most be to be around that he never wants to be home when you are or spend time with you. Those kinds of things that you’re not even sure where it all had been bottled up but you do hear his frantic tapping behind you as he tries to respond only to have to pause, backspace a bunch, and type some more. 

You catch him gesturing, frantic “tuna, tuna” leaving him while he tries to show you his screen, but you keep your gaze fixed on the task before you because you fear that if you look at him you’ll start crying. You didn’t want to cry when you were trying to yell at him for putting off breaking up with you, that would make you look more pathetic to him than you’re sure you already did.

“Please stop.” 

Two words uttered so softly yet full of desperation have you freezing, though you’re sure even without the cursed speech you’d be frozen at the sound of Toge’s using words that weren’t his usual safe words. You’re afraid to even look at him, but you face that fear as you turn to face him and the phone extended towards you with a screen full of words intended for you to read. 

“Toge?”

“Please,” he whispers again, angling the phone towards you in a silent plea for you to take it and let him defend himself. You do; your fingers grazing against his as you take the device into you hand with your thumb tapping the screen out of habit to keep the screen awake. 

I love you so much. 

I’m so afraid that I’ll let something slip and hurt you by accident so I’ve been trying to stay away while figuring out words that can be safe for us to use together. 

Didn’t know that my distance would hurt you

I’m so sorry

“Toge,” you whisper, nearly dropping his phone in your rush to pull him into your arms. Tears burn at your eyes while you feel his dampen the skin of your neck, his arms tight around your waist to keep you pressed flush against him - as if you could be apart from him after this. “Don’t you ever try to hide from me again.”

“Salmon,” is mumbled into your neck, and you give your own nod before you pull back to kiss his cheek.  A kiss to your cheek becomes a kiss on your lips, Toge’s mouth carefully coaxing yours open to allow him the opportunity to deepen the kiss. You feel small shockwaves along your tongue as it brushes against his, the sensation caused by his cursed markings sorely missed by you in the period of distance he’d forced between you now a source of comfort and a reminder that he was with you again and just as desperate for your touch as you were for his with the way his mouth worked against yours. Your back hits something sturdy, you think it’s probably the fridge but don’t have time to think too much about it because Toge is bringing your leg up to rest on his hip to press the growing tent in his pants to your core in search of friction that would bring pleasure to you both. 

“T-Tore,” you breathe when he pulls back, watching as his eyes search the space beside your head for something while keeping himself pressed against you. When he finds it, he’s reaching for it, and you recognize that it’s one of the magnet strips with pre printed statements on it that he’d been searching for. This one had been originally something unimportant to your life with Toge, so you’d used a label maker to make it something that would have real purpose in your home.

Would you like to fuck? Stares at you in bold black font, the smiley face after bringing a smile to your own face as you take the magnet from him to slap on the fridge above your head before you’re kissing him again. It’s not a kiss that lasts long before he’s pulling away, slowly lowering himself to his knees before you and pulling at your pants and underwear as he goes. 

He only bothers to free one of your legs from its confinement, bringing it to rest over his shoulder so he could be close to your core, his eyes closing as he takes a deep inhale of your scent. It was clear that he’d missed you just as much as you’d been missing him, the pure relief that you see in his relaxing features bringing a new wave of calm through your body. He was here, he was happy, any doubt that may have lingered regarding whether or not he wanted to be with you is calmed in this moment - only to be replaced with the sparks that come with the feeling of his tongue against your clit. With the way his cursed markings seemed to vibrate against your skin, it’s like you feel him in your skin in all the best ways while his fingers carefully probe your wet slit. 

“Toge,” you whine, your hand in his hair while your other hand grips the handle of the refrigerator door. “Please, no marathons.”

That earns you a displeased grunt against your clit, but he had to understand that his forced distance was the reason why you needed him to go easy on you. But you continue to stare at him, eyes locked on his own as you push his hair back away from his forehead until he gives a more affirmative grunt with a nod that would serve as his agreement that he would not intentionally seek to overstimulate you like he typically enjoyed doing. 

Two of his slender fingers ease into your cunt, the wet sound so loud in your ears but drowned out by the loud groan Toge let out when he got a taste of how wet you were already. His tongue moves eagerly around your clit, the cursed appendage rolling around the sensitive bud in tight circles while his lips maintain a tight suction that keeps you clenching around his fingers as they fuck you. You’re not sure what is louder; your moans of pleasure, Toge’s moans and groans of delight, or the sinful squelching of your wet pussy being attacked from the inside and outside by your attentive lover’s hand and mouth. His eyes open, the look he gives you full of pure adoration as he opens his mouth to press the pulsing flat of his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue their fast strokes inside your cunt. 

“Cum for me,” is mumbled against your clit, the command forcing your eyes closed as your body tightens up around him while he does his best to keep you upright and prevent injury. Your pleasured cry is music to his ears as his tongue laps at your throbbing clit to try and keep you on the edge of overstimulation. You said no marathon, you didn’t say he couldn’t use his cursed speech and that loophole was an unfair advantage you’d truly scold him for later. 

“You’re cheating,” you scold; voice nothing more than a whisper as you push his head away from your core, pouting down at him as he grins, his free hand massaging your thigh that rest on his shoulder as he brings his fingers to his mouth. Your leg is carefully removed from his shoulder, and he’s carefully pulling you down to the floor to sit with him. There’s a delightful awkwardness in trying to get each other undressed while sitting on the kitchen floor, and it all reaches its intended outcome when Toge is carefully lying you back against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Your feeble attempt at an offer to reciprocate the oral pleasure you’d received is met with a shake of his head as he settles between your spread legs, his fingers trailing along your slit before you feel the blunt tip of his cock trying to make its entrance. 

Your hands settle on his chest as he kisses you, his length working its way into your neglected pussy. You feel his groan rattle his chest, the sound reverberating through your mouth with the additional hum of his cursed energy overwhelming your senses. He’s all that matters to you at this moment, the slow grind of his hips into yours to keep close as he savors this reunion. His pace is slow, hard strokes pressing deep into your core and sending waves of pleasure along your spine as your hands move to clasp at the back of his neck. 

“I missed you,” you whisper, a statement that has him frowning, an apology in his eyes that has you regretting your honesty only momentarily before he’s smiling again as he shakes his head. Everything was going to be okay, you know that and trust in that. He sits up slightly, his hands taking your thighs in his hands and pushing them back towards your chest to allow for closer contact. He’s checking only momentarily to make sure you’re okay, the nod on your end allowing him to continue with his forceful thrusts. 

“T-Toge,” you gasp, the deeper angle forcing the wind out of you as he rests his forehead against yours. The only sound that follows is the sound of skin on skin with his hard thrusts, the primary soundtrack to your lovemaking as his mouth leaves yours in face of kissing along your face down to your neck to that spot that made you squirm as you feel yourself approaching the cusp of your orgasm. He knows you’re close, the pace of his strokes slowing down to try and force you to hold out for him. He wouldn’t dare tell you to wait, and you’re relieved when he whispers in your ear for you to cum for him. The cry that leaves you has him smiling against your cheek, his own groans flooding your ears as he finds his own release inside your pussy. 

He finally pulls out, moving to lay on his side beside you and gently stroking your cheek as he smiles at you before poking your nose and getting a giggle out of you that has him chuckling. In return, you reach out to poke his nose, which results in a poke competition as you’re both laughing until your arm gets tired. Your eyes close, relief washing over your system at the fact that you still had Toge, he still loved you and wanted to be with you, but his need to protect you from himself had him doing something stupid and not communicating his fears. That would need to be discussed when you weren’t naked on the kitchen floor.

There’s a gentle nudge to your side, and your eyes open to see Toge sitting up and looking down at you with a fond smile while nudging you with his knee. There’s a head nod towards the hallway that led to your bedroom, you know he’s trying to get you either to the bedroom to rest on a more comfortable surface than the kitchen tile. 

“Get into bed.”

“You’re a menace!” And you’re standing, Toge taking your hand in his own so he could walk with you to the bedroom. 

[yallthemwitches]

The Best Fun

Super silly, short fic for @jilytoberfest Day 6: Food disasters

Because we all know Sirius would be the one to experiment with muggle drugs~ AO3 link here!

“Prongs—don’t be angry.”

Peter stood with his back against the Fat Lady who screamed at him to be unhanded. His arms were outstretched but his face was riddled with absolute fear. 

“Can’t say I love hearing that from you, Wormy.”

If Peter had been sent to ward him off, that meant that the other two marauders must be shit deep in whatever laid beyond the portrait hole. Usually, the prospect of something to spice up his evening would perk his spirits, but tonight was a rare exception. 

He had been forced to do patrols with Chloe Sparrow due to the fact that she had been favoring her fellow Slytherins during her rounds. Although it had been his idea, it didn’t help that it took away precious time patrolling with Lily. Then, as he had come to find out, it also meant the night would be filled with a strange mixture of semi racist remarks and what James could only refer to as a grotesque version of flirting, ending in Chloe being sent back to her dorms before she could smack his arse another time. 

So in short, James’ bullshit threshold was reaching max capacity. 

“So—do you just want to tell me or do I need to pretend to struggle past you…”

Peter started to look visibly sweaty and backed off of the Fat Lady who, now free from her smothering, chirped insults under her breath. 

“Uhm. So before I say anything, you should know Lily wanted to, so—”

“Peter.” 

James was losing patience fast. He had expected the lads to have done something, sure, but Lily was a development he wasn’t ready for. From his tone alone, it all came tumbling out of Peter like a single word.

”Pads made some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

Peter’s eyes shifted. “Muggle stuff—said something about how that band,The Beagles or whatever, used it to—”

James walked up to his mate who jumped out of the way before he could even attempt to push through. 

Trudging through the portrait hole, Peter kept fast on his feet, babbling excuses like a mosquito hovering to feed.

“Again! She wanted to! Even helped a bit! Moony didn’t stop them!”

A voice drawled out from the center of the common room. “Thanks for ratting me out Wormy.” 

Remus laid reclined on the length of the couch, book in one hand while a cigarette hung from his lips. 

James took stock of the room. The only thing that looked remotely out of place was a tray of what looked like a dessert which had been ravenously attacked. A knife balanced on the baking tray. 

“So where are they?” 

Without any further elaboration Lupin tilted his head towards the fireplace and James took the two steps needed to get enough clearance to see over onto the ground. Lily was curled up in a ball, eyes closed and head resting on the stomach of a giant black dog, both completely asleep.

“Explain.” He used his head boy voice, but Remus only laughed. 

“Sirius thought it would be a scream to make pot brownies—should have seen them about an hour ago—never seen two people hug and dance around so much in my life.”

Peter, who was still standing at the entrance of the portrait hole, pipped up in a quivering voice. “It was quite nice actually—Lily was so affectionate and—”

“And you didn’t call me? Didn’t think that I wanted to come try muggle drug food too?”

James looked down at his sleeping girlfriend who buried her nose into Sirius’ stomach, hands curling around the fur, blissfully unaware that the animal she was laying on could be anything other than a dog. 

“You all knew I’ve always wanted to do this, Moony! Honestly, I’m hurt!”

“Sorry mate, it just happened.”

James crouched down next to Lily’s sleeping form, brushing some of her hair from her face. At his touch, her eyes blinked open, a brilliant glassy green, slightly bloodshot, looked up at him.

“Oh Baby! You’re back!” She lifted up and threw her arms around his neck, nuzzling her nose into his collar. 

“Oh I just love you! Wow, you smell so good!” 

Every word from her mouth sounded breathy and light, like the world was one big cloud with her on it. From behind him, Peter muttered: “See? I quite like her stoned” and Lupin just snorted in response.

“Have you met this dog? I love this dog.” She turned to wrap her arms back around a still sleeping Sirius, but James caught her, pulling her back into him. 

“I have met the dog—that's ok, we can leave him alone now.” James cradled her to his chest and she melted into him, completely forgetting Sirius despite her comment seconds ago.

“I can see you had some fun tonight.” 

She didn’t respond, rather looking up into his eyes before bursting into a laugh, grabbing both sides of his face and smashing their foreheads together. 

“Brilliant fun. The best fun. But not as fun as you. I missed you.”

It was hard to feel upset about that. James scooped under her legs and carried her like a child over to the staircase which led up to the dorms. Laughter tumbled out of her mouth before becoming preoccupied with kissing his neck in quick, frantic pecks. 

“I’m going to get her to bed before she decides she loves someone else—” Lily just squealed, wrapping her hands tighter around his neck in an attempt to get him to kiss her.

“If Sirius wakes up, tell him I’ll give him a running head start in the morning before I beat the shit out of him–.”

Remus didn’t look up from his book, eyebrows raised.

“Awfully kind of you Prongs.”

James started to climb the steps, Lily alternating between laughter and proclamations of love.

“Well–It’s the least I could do to repay him.”

[geordikisser]

brat taming | tanner | 18+

epilogue: you have a horrible potty mouth and tanner doesn’t necessarily miiiiind that, or at all ever! until it’s towards him and he loves a power struggle soo ^_^ he doesn’t mind proving you wrong.

content contains! biting/marking, degrading, power struggle, jealous! tanner ..

⤷ afab anatomy used but gender isn’t specified! sorry ..

petnames used: sugar, honey, babe, baby, hunnybunny, slut, whore

you were live and playing some overwatch on tanners set up. he was downstairs, watching on his laptop. you were on dps and played tracer. you weren’t doing entirely horrible but your team was horrible. ☹️

“yall say hear me out and it’s on a conventionally attractive character bruh shut up.” you say mid laugh as you see the big fat ‘defeat’ on your screen. you felt so tempted to explode something. you join team chat and immediately shit on your team with every diabolical and tos friendly insults you can think of.

something you said made tanners stomach knot up. in a negative way .. the way your other teammate endorsed it sexually made him extremely like .. jealous?? is what he would call it.

bigTstreamingservice: WOAH!!!!!! ❌❌ BAD!!!! DONT SAYTHAT!!!!! 👎

“tanner shut your yap!! i say what i want. bitch.” you imitate a spit sound as you enter the practice range, now bored.

bigTstreamingservice: oh word 🤨

he types in chat as you snort. “on lone. tuh.” you emphasize you smacking your lips.

tanner finds himself getting up and walking to his room shortly after. you were searching on youtube for a subway surfers game footage to entertain your chat as you tell them a story. you’re laughing your ass off as you tell some random ass story.

“my name is larry ‘jamal’ croft winston.. i’m 17 years old.. —“ you quickly were cut off by an unsettling noise behind you.

you hear the door crack behind you, slowly spinning around in the chair. “hellou.” you say calmly. tanner can’t help but laugh his ass off. “THE ENERGY SWITCH??” he screams as you scoff. “WHAT ENERGY SWITCH? I NEVER SWITCH UP.” you say in a specific tone that just adds fuel to the flame of his laughter. “YES YOU DO?” he smiles, exhaling heavily.

he pulls a chair and sits besides you, towering over you slightly. “how’s it cooking, good lookin’.” he smiles at you all goofy. “you tryna find out?” you grumble. “100%. are you muted?” he asks as you double check quickly before giving him a ‘no’.

“bye.” he replied, smiling a bit. “i forgor..” you drool as he takes the mouse and reopens overwatch. “overwatch time!! i’ll coach you.” he huffs confidently. “girl there’s footage of you playing overwatch, i think i’ll be good.” you side eye him as he gives you a dimly look back.

“dude. shut up.” you stammer as he lets out a laugh. you queue up for a game and tanners hand ends up on your inner thigh, squeezing it comfortably. “DON’T TOUCH ME CREEP!!” you exclaim, loud enough for someone next door to hear it. he jumped and slowly turned to you, unhappy.

you begin to get frustrated at overwatch slowly and started slamming your hands on the desk like a little toddler and trying to reason with tanner each time you died or did a terrible play, him smiling and nodding.

“i hate you omg, I HATE FLASHBANG.” you whine as you squirm in your chair. he huffs out a breathy laugh as he fixes his hair, pulling it back. “who could hate this?” he says comically. “ME!” you retort almost instantly.

eventually, stream ends. you wrap it up due to tanners unsettling aura at the moment, you hope what you said didn’t actually upset him.

you turn to him and smile, “hai.” you coo out as he smiles in return. “hey hunnybunny, how are you?” he asks as he reaches for your thigh again, holding it gently. “i’m alright. overwatch sucks without friends..” you sigh out. he grimaced slightly.

tanner recently developed jealously problems that he was self aware of. he never saw himself as a jealous person, he’s really goofy and silly! until he got with you, he never realized how jealous he got over small things anyway, it was mild at the moment. he wishes he could’ve played with you instead of issac. (the person you played with)

“you could’ve played with me y’know.” he grumbled, attempting to hide this feeling. he trusted you and isaac equally, he had no reason not to. but it’s inevitable for him he feels.

you look up at him with a raised brow. he analyzes your expression and scratches the back of his neck. “cuz.. i can carry you.” he smiles awkwardly, his gaze leaving yours. “you sound a little green-eyed there tanner.” you grin.

“stop.” he groans softly as he turns away entirely. “you jealous, baby?” you lean forward. he sits there in a resentful silence.

his brows remain furrowed. “you upset isaac is better at overwatch than you?” you egg on. he slowly turns to you. “the same guy who screams when he isn’t healed in one second. that isaac is better than me.” he said more as a statement that question, laughing slightly.

“does 10-10 ring a bell.” you look away like you’re thinking. he sits up and looks at you with bitterness in his eyes, a cocky grin smeared on his face. “baby.” he started. you hum in response. “don’t start this with me.” his breathing hitched. “what are you gonna do about it, hm?” you raise your brow with a grin.

within a instance, tanners hands were on your waist and pulled you into him, kissing you gently on the lips. his tongue exploding down your throat.

you were taken aback from the sudden action and melted slightly into the kiss. realizing his plan.

you pull away quickly, your hands on his chest. “wait.” you scowl. “i see what you’re doing!!” you jump up, his hands slide down off your waist. he raised his brow confused. “what am i doing, sugar.” his tone laced with confidence. your lip quivers as you feel your face heat up. “tanner..” you huff, quietly. he stands up, towering over you once again. he slowly begins to back you up to the bed as you stumble back onto the bed.

your eyes examine his body, the bulge dented in his pants and the pattern his chest heaved up and down in. he was pent up.

“did you want this, tanner?” you grin as he rolls his eyes. “you can cut this act cuz we both know ill shut it down real quick, honey.” he sits down besides you, turns to face you and leans over. kissing you sweetly. you begin to straddle on top of him and holding his face as the kiss gets more passionate and passionate. the bulge in his pants evident against your own crotch.

tanners breath hitches as you grind against his bulge. he leans back slightly as you continue to grind against him. you smile cockily at him as you kiss his jaw. “you’re so sweet for me, tanner.” you say between kisses on his jaw, lowering to his neck. he lets out a little whimper as he begins to grip your hips slightly after. helping you grind against him.

“fuck..” he pants as you caress his cheek. he tugs at the rim of your sweats and you kiss him one final time and begin slip off your own pants, your underwear remaining.

“good..” he smirks as he pushes your back against the bed, taking you aback. you gasp as he is on top of you. “don’t act cute, such a slut.” he giggles as he slips off your undies. “i’m gonna make you forget your name, sweetheart. :3” he kisses your neck, leaving a very prominent mark on it. he lowers his head & begins to tease your hole. his tongue tickling you perfectly. you gulp and let out a heavy sigh, coming out in a shaky tone.

his hands gripping your things as he licks around your clit. you practically chew down onto your lip as your back arches into his mouth. “tanner..” you pant as you told the back of his head and begin grinding into his mouth. he stops.

“nuh uh, sorry baby.” he lifts his head and removes his hold from your thighs and holds your wrists. “you want me to abuse your sweet clit, right?” he hums. you look away, pride slipping down the drain. “y—yeah..” you huff, your eyes shut tightly. “look. don’t touch.” he removes his grab he had on your wrists previously & slaps the side of your thigh. you yelp, growling lowkey afterwards. he giggles as he begins to tongue fuck you. his attention being to your clit and then fucking you with his tongue simultaneously.

“you like that? you like when i fuck your sweet hole with my tongue?” he drags out as you can only whimper in response. “fuck… you—..” you manage to squeeze out as he pulls away to bite your thigh. “keep it cute, slut.” he spits on your abused cunt and sits up, taking off his pants. you flinch at the impact of the spit.

his hard cock flings out & he begins to stroke himself. he lets a string of spit fall to the tip of his cock and covers his cock with his spit. “you ready, baby?” he smiles at you. you nod in response. “no? awww that’s a shame.. you can watch me stroke my hard cock infront of you then.” he pouts slightly. you furrow your brows. “tanner..” you murmur. he raises his brow, humming as he acknowledges you.

“stop being a dick.” you spat in response. he smacks his lips and shakes his head. “no no no baby, that’s not how you answer.” he lowers down to your collar bone and bites down. you exclaim and he covers your mouth.

”tell me you want this dick, like a good whore would.” he pants as he continues to bite down on you. he lifts his hand from your mouth, “i-i want your cock, tanner.” you sob out as the bite marks begin to hurt more. “such a masochist.” he lifts his head and kisses you gently on the lips. “good slut.”

he puts his tip in slowly as his cock melts inside you completely. he groans out as he begins to thrust immediately, giving you zero time to adjust. you didn’t deserve it in his eyes.

you begin to drool and tear up. tanners thrusting pattern is ingrained into your hole. he begins to tend to your nipples and suck on one and tease the other one with his hand. you were already pretty close due to him teasing your clit previously. “m’close..” you whine out, pathetically. he gives you a cute smile in return. making your stomach knot up. “i love you, t—tanner..” you coo out, drunkenly. your tears staining your cheeks. “love so much..” he cries out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“i love you more, baby.” he smiled at you, kissing your cheek, now your lips. you reach your climax, moaning into the kiss. he smiles into the kiss as he pulls away. panting slightly. he pulls out and places his cock on top of your crotch and his cum drips out all over your stomach.

he lies besides you and kisses your shoulders. cuddling you as you feel woozy, recovering slowly but surely. “my sweet baby, took my cock so good for me.” he mumbles between kisses as you try to cuddle into him. he stops you immediately. “wait wait!! i don’t want my jizz on my bed.. let’s get you cleaned, ‘kay?” he grins awkwardly as you whine. “okay..”you huff as you sit up. your belly covered in cum. “my pretty pretty baby. so gorgeous.” he smiled ear to ear, as he leads you to his bedroom.

[2ch3rr13s]

Your absence makes me hurt

in which the man you loves finds your letter reads it, he never knew of your feelings for him, but why didn't you tell him? He wants to respect your wishes but he want you to come back to him and talk it out with him, what should he do now that your not here with him Tw- angst, that's about it.

Zhongli

Work is tiring no matter how much you get used to it, no matter how used the routine gets, but when something falls out from the routine, everything in that routine also falls out.  

Zhongli was in his offine in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor signing papers that Hu Tao was putting off, he began to develop a headache, and was waiting for someone, his dear friend, Y/n. But where were they? Sure, everyone was busy during Lantern Rite a week ago, but now it’s all over, so where were they now? 

The day had ended without any other issues, and Zhongli had still yet to see Y/n but he just figured they were busy, on his way home some children bumping into him and spilt their candy on him, and he had to calm them down, then he had to an elderly woman with her groceries, then to help a child get his kite out of a tree.  

By the time Zhongli had arrived home, he was ready to sleep for eons, slipping off his coat, and then his shoes, he glanced down to see a stark white envelope on the floor. Maybe he dropped it when he left his home in the morning? 

Nonetheless he reached down and picked it up, it was addressed to him in familiar handwriting, but for some reason, this made his chest hurt. Opening it slowly he read carefully, his eyebrows furrowed as he read, then his eyes closed processing the whole letter in his head.  

He knew that he had brushed them off during Lantern Rite and he was shameful for that, but he wanted to make it up to them after he had cleared his whole week of work. But now, he will respect their wishes,  

“Very well then,” he muttered to himself as he placed the letter on the small table next to the door, but he knew his words betrayed the way his heart had felt. This was painful, but he would respect their words no matter how much he wanted to go against it. 

Afterall, he is the God of contracts.  

Diluc Ragvindr

Diluc had been signing papers all day in his office, and decided it was time for him to go check up on everything at Angel’s share. On his way, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach for some reason, and just concluded that he had too much food before his trip.  

The walk was quiet, the occasional chirp of birds, or a stray hilichurl that the redhead had just decided to avoid instead of engaging. Once in the walls of Mondstadt not wasting any time with anyone else, he went to his bar.  

Drunkards already outside and the stench of alcohol heavy in the air as he swung open the door to the tavern, and the stench had smacked him in the face harder. The man behind the bar, Charles, had waved at him, as the redhead strolled up to the bar. “Charles,” he greeted, and the man gave a small laugh, “Hello to you too Master Diluc.” 

After a little chat of how things were going, just as Diluc was about to leave, the bartender called out to him, “Here Master Diluc, Y/n wanted me to hand this over to you,” Diluc looked down at the envelope in hand and nodded his thanks before leaving.  

On his exit from the tavern his curiousity got the best of his as he glanced down at the envelope, his name on it. He carefully tore open the letter as he made small steps out of the gates of Mondstadt.  

Halfway down the bridge, he felt his hands growing hot as he read the letter, then his heart clenched tightly in his chest as he read the name at the bottom. How could he be so blind? Years and years of being by their side, maybe he did take Y/n for granted. Then he began to rack his brain for their homeland.  

He could never have a relationship with the Traveler, they were his acquaintance, he only ever enjoyed their company and would tell them storis of his life from before he turned out to who he was today and his childhood memories with Y/n, but now he had to focus.  

He was sure they mentioned it in one of their past conversations. After a few minutes of thinking he sighed, maybe they didn’t want to be found. His eyebrows furrowed as he continued his way back home, his heart heavy knowing his best friend is gone from his side.  

Kamisato Ayato

Letters, papers, and bills sat in front of Ayato as he tiredly let his hands glide against the paper writing and signing. A cup of boba at his side still halfway full. Ever since waking up this morning, there had been a sinking feeling in his stomach as if he had lost something, but he just couldn’t figure what.  

He just thought his head was too stressed out and jumbled up with work, then the air around him began to feel tense. “What brings you here?” A shuumatsuban had arrived, a letter in their hand, “A letter sir,” his eyes didn’t leave his work, “Put it with the rest,” the person hesitated.  

“I think you should read this now Lord Ayato,” they mumbled as they passed it to his outstretched hand without turning to them. “Very well, you’re dismissed,” the shuumatsuban had dissapeared from his sight as he tore open the letter.  

Thinking it was just another Lord or Lady wanting his hand, his eyes bored trailed over the words, until the end. Then he re-read the letter, knowing that it was from his dear friend. He blinked his eyes to rid of the tiredness, now no longer wanting to do his work he stood up from his seat.  

Feeling for the traveler? Now that was new, he just needed a mutual exchange of help, so it would be a beneficial friendship from both parties. He groaned as he he moved to the door and swung it open.  

The letter in his hand as he moved out of his room, it suddenly felt suffocating, this was not what he planned for the day. Well, at least he found out what the sinking feeling was after a long day of work.  

Al-Haitham

After a long day of dealing with some idiot akedemiya scholars, Al-Haitham was ready to just relax and throw himself in bed with a good book. Walking past someone how was trying to hand him something, he turned on his noise cancellation on his headphones and brushed passed them without another word.  

But they were persistent, and followed him, he could see them making a fool of them self just to give him this thing. He sighed heavily, and turned to them slipping the headphones off his head for a second, “You’ve been following me for the past thirty minutes, what could you possibly want?” 

The scholar heaved out a deep sigh of relief, “Gods, how could Kaveh or Y/n handle you?” They muttered, now that made his brows furrow. When did Y/n ever talk with anyone of the akedemiya people? Nonetheless his attention was now grabbed, “So? What is that you want or are you just here to waste my time?”  

The scholar rolled their eyes and held out an envelope to him, then took thier leave as he grabbed onto it. He was irritated as he held onto it, then glanced down curiously, he already knew of the contents, it was a letter Y/n had written to him, but about what? Why couldn’t they tell him their self?  

His eyes glided over the paper as he felt his heart drop to his stomach while reading it over and over, why would Y/n ever leave Sumeru? And Kaveh? That was his best friend, he may not show it, but why would they ever think that? They’ve all been together since their own Akedemiya days, how could they be so blind?  

hi sweethearts, yall have been supportive of this little series so now you get to choose how to end it! I hope you like my writing so far <333

[nolita-fairytale]

hey gen! i know you just finished burn your life down, but i can't get enough of chef luca. can i get a fluff blurb 🥐 with luca?

hi babe! so i decided to go the route of keeping this fluff blurb in the world of 'burn your life down' as an intro to the oneshot idea we've been talking about in the dm (hint: it's fluffy, it's smutty, it's chef-y). @translatemunson

a/n: the term r&d refers to the process of recipe development and stands for "research and development."

R&D (chef luca x fem!reader)

"Hey! I'm about to jump in the shower," Luca calls out to you, as he makes his way down the hallway. Popping his head around the corner, he finds you in the kitchen, your focus barely broken by his words as you work.

"Watcha workin' on, my love?"

"This... savory French toast idea that I can't get out of my head," you reply without even looking up, you brow knitted together while you vigorously whisk your sabayon sauce over a boiling pot of water.

"For the new menu?" he asks you, patiently waiting for you to acknowledge him with a smirk on his lips.

Finally, you look up from your glass mixing bowl, smiling as soon as you see you lover. You watch as he runs a hand through his bedhead, his blonde locks wild from a good night's sleep.

Okay, and maybe from you running your fingers through it, but who's asking?

"Yeah. Actually, will you try this?" you ask him, using a tasting spoon to gather up enough of the sauce for Luca.

"'Course, my love," he answers, taking a few steps towards you.

Luca opens his mouth, allowing you to feed him. As you pull the spoon from his mouth, you toss it into the sink out of habit, even though this version of the dish most likely won't be shared. You watch him carefully as he processing, the gears turning in his head as he analyzes the flavor profile of what you've been working on.

"It's missing something," he states, matter of factly, watching you for a reaction.

"Really? Let me try," you reply, quickly reaching for another spoon, this time trying your sabayon for yourself.

Before you can say anything else, consider what might be missing, Luca's lips are on yours, the flavors still fresh on your lips. He kisses you like you're his favorite thing, like he wants to savor every single moment, and you can't believe that you get to wake up to this day after day.

He hums as he pulls away, a playfully smile plastered to his face as he says, "Hm. Yeah. That's it. That's what was missing."

Your heart flutters, even after all this time.

"Don't forget that we have an R&D date tonight. Think we can figure out what else may be missing on our menu," he tempts you, and all you can do is nod in agreement, your eyes never leaving his.

Luca leans in, this time kissing you with a loud smack, before leaving you behind, off to his shower.

[thewatcher-ofmedia]

🔥CHARACTER REVIEW TIME🔥

(Can you tell that my portuguese teacher didn't come so I have 100 minutes without shit to do)

ANYWAYS, since I'm in the 4th episode I think it's a good time to see first impressions

MAIN CHARACTERS

CHARLES

I love him so much, like I was 10 minutes in and saying "I would die for you, I would kill for you, just ask and I'll do it"

Favourite character obviously

Wanna put him in a jar and protect him from everything bad in the world

He's brunette, has curls, is the sunshine character, has daddy issues and uses humour to cope so obviously he's also on the list of fictional crushes

Also something that I absolutely love about this show is that they pick this "stereotypical characters" and make them better.

Like, in this case the always happy character would have a ton of trauma but the show (or the characters, but that's a talk for another post) would not acknowledge this, they would show real depressed shit and then completely ignore it for the rest of the show.

Or just show it in the end of the series then kill him off.

But here they're letting people know from the beginning AND it's visible that the fact that he hides it is gonna be a major plot point in the show which makes me SO HAPPY

And in the loop scenes they made sure to focus on Charles face and reaction every. single. time.

Anways, I'm soo curious to learn more about his trauma and death and to see his character development

And he's so cute and trying so hard to make sure everyone likes him and lighten the mood and to not be a bother and to make everyone happy and I'm gonna cry

EDWIN

I also love him so goddamn much

He's also going in the jar, don't worry I'll protect you from everything

He's my baby (he was born more two hundred years before me and is my age BUT HE'S MY BABY)

Seriously someone needs to sit him down and say that everything is going to be ok (and get death the fuck away from him, my boy does not deserve hell, he deserves to be with his boyfriend best friend)

Also love this concept that everyone around him knows he's not straight, he knows that he's not straight but somehow he's still in the closet. Like, he never says he's straight, but he says to Niko that Mounty and him both boys, so one cannot be into the other and when Niko says that boys can like like each other he just turns the conversation around

I think they're writing that so well. It's subtle yet obvious, it's so good

Also, he's autistic, definitely in the spectrum. He obviously doesn't know because the first diagnosed case of autism was in 1943

And the dynamics that he has with everyone is SO GODDAMN GOOD

CRYSTAL

Someone give this girl an aspirin, a therapist and a bed

My girl cannot catch a break

One more in the protection jar, don't worry, I'll find your family for you, you need to rest

Overall great character, she's sassy, she's funny and she's the only emotional intelligent one

She's definitely gonna be the bridge for Edwin and Charles' romantically relationship

Like she's Miss "Edwin is acting weird because he's jeaulous of the sexual tension that we have, Charles" and Miss "Charles got stuck in the loop because he has strong feelings towards abusive fathers because he had one, Edwin"

Really love that we have someone to smack this idiots and say "You're in love with each other" because they are not gonna realise that by themselves

Also, DAVID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, SHE DOES NOT DESERVE YOU. I'LL GET THE CROSS, I SWEAR I'LL DO IT.

NIKO

She's so cute, I wanna protect her from this cruel, cruel world

This means that I already have her in the jar, no one else is gonna get to her

At first I thought she was gonna be this really closed and introvert character that was gonna talk when absolutely necessary and was a bit emo. But like her hair her personality lightened up as soon as the parasites got out (she was sick it's normal that she was wuth a really depressed attutude but Bea's too focused on the story to remember how people act socially)

I really wanna hug her, I need to

Also love how eager she is to help and how she has nothing to do with the boys , she's a "cas closed" but even Edwin can't say no to her

I feel like her "almost dying" trauma is gonna be a bit underrated (although I see that they are not completely ignoring because of the 3rd episode where she felt like she couldn't deal with death since she almost met her the week before) but I want to believe the opposite because until now the show has not disappointed me in terms of traumas (or in other terms really)

SIDE CHARACTERS

ESTHER

I don't have much to say, I like her in the twisted "this is a fun villain" way

I'm really curious to know more about this Lilith and immortality thing

She did loose some points in my book with the whole torturing the crow thing

I am ✨️traumatised✨️

CAT KING

I'm so confused about his character

Like, he's a really fun character

And his outfits are great

But at the same time, get the fuck away from Edwin, in both the scenes with both of them I was so scared that he was going to the "no consent" zone

I do love that both the scenes where he's in he slays the outfit, tries to drag Edwin out the glass closet, fails, keeps him trapped so he can try to do this one more time and goes away

Like, he has one objective and one objective only and honestly, respect

JENNY

My patient queen

I have not much more to say

She accidentally adopted two really weird teenagers and regrets that so much

I respect her so much

As an older sister, if she snaps, grabs a knife and kills them both out of annoyance I would support it

That's it 🫶

If you haven't understood yet I have way too many thoughts about this series

[jinkoh]

lip gloss

younghoon x fem!reader

summary: younghoon really likes your lip gloss. what he doesn't like is the silly bet his friends made about you...

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, secret relationship (kinda), fluff, a little jealousy, alternating povs, clothes sharing (v briefly), SFW

wordcount: ~4,8k

a/n: who would have thought i'm coming back after a writer's block with a completely new group--certainly not me lol 🤡 i have accidentally developed an obsession with the lip gloss mv and spent an ungodly amount of time watching it

this is my first time writing for tbz (and i also don't know them that well yet) so pls be kind 👉🏻👈🏻

also this fic is entirely to be blamed on @blizzardfluffykpop bc we came up with the idea together. thanks for brainrotting with me, kate ❤️

Masterlist

Younghoon liked his friends, he really did. It was just that at times he had to remind himself of the fact. Like now, when they were making yet another stupid bet among themselves, fueled as so often by the never ending quarrel between the beach volleyball players and the surfers. Younghoon wasn’t a surfer but neither did he play beach volleyball, except for the rare occasions when they were missing a man, so he usually got out of these antics fine without picking a side. Still, this time the guys were being too much. Younghoon had already turned to Sangyeon in hopes of ending this nonsense, but to his utter disappointment even Sangyeon was in on this, confidently nodding along that his team would win.

It wasn’t that Younghoon didn’t understand the temptation—who wouldn’t want an excuse to talk to you? You’d caught his attention too when he’d come to the beach a few days ago. It was starting to get hot, spring slowly turning into summer, and the owner of the little beach bar had decided it was time to kick off the season. Instead of him though, someone else was manning the bar. You had an arm propped up on the counter and mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Younghoon couldn’t blame you, the bar wasn’t usually busy until later so it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. Without paying it any mind, he jogged down the beach to the volleyball net where he knew to find the others, the girl from the bar quickly forgotten over a very imbalanced game. In fact he didn’t think of you again until he walked back to the bar to get some soda for everyone. There still weren’t any customers around, but instead of doom scrolling you’d taken out some lip gloss, using your phone’s camera as a mirror as you swiftly applied it to your lower lip. He felt he shouldn’t be watching this, but he also couldn’t look away. There was something so captivating about this scene. Just when you were smacking your lips together (twice) you seemed to have noticed his gaze. You looked up with surprise in your eyes before giving him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. What can I get you?” The gloss made your lips look shiny. Maybe he had already been a goner then.

So, it really wasn't that he didn't understand. But betting on who’d get your number first seemed a bit much and, frankly, kind of rude too. There was no stopping them though, but perhaps he could at least give you a little warning?

He got up from where everyone was sitting on the sand, just far enough from the shore to not get wet, and jogged back to the wooden path that led further up the beach and to the bar.

“Where are you going?” Eric yelled behind him. “Not getting a head start, are you?”

Younghoon huffed a laugh. “What makes you think I’d join a silly bet like that?”

Eric grinned. “Scared of even trying, huh?”

“Mhm, sure.”

With a shake of his head he walked the last few meters to the bar, where he sat down on one of the stools at the counter. Once more, it was empty despite being late at night, but he supposed not everyone had the freedom to come out here this late on a weekday.

“So,”  you turned to him with a mischievous grin, before he could even say anything. “What kind of bet were you talking about?”

He ran his hands through his hair. “You heard that?”

“Was hard not to.”

“I’m not sure you really want to know.”

“I don’t care either way. But you guys have been stealing glances at the bar this whole time—you better not do anything that will get me in trouble with the boss.”

“They wouldn’t,” Younghoon didn’t hesitate to reply. Sure, they were silly and stupid at times, but they wouldn’t put someone’s job on the line for funsies. “But they also weren’t exactly looking at the bar.”

“They weren’t, huh?” You grinned and Younghoon couldn’t help but notice the shimmer of your lip gloss.

“It’s your number,” he said, tearing his eyes away from your lips. “They want your number.”

You nodded slowly, looking more amused than offended. There was a challenging glint in your eyes. “So, you think getting my number is silly?”

The question caught him off guard so his reply came out a little too slow to be smooth. “No, that’s far from silly. Just betting on it is.”

“Hmm, how do I know you’re not secretly in on it though?”

“Why would I butcher my chances by telling you about the bet then?”

You leaned over the counter a bit, propping up your head with your closed hand. “Maybe this is your strategy to appear upright and honest?”

He stifled a laugh. “Well, I’m honest. I don’t know about the rest.”

 “Fair enough.”

Younghoon didn’t get your number that night, but neither did anyone else and that gave him a little satisfaction. He’d offered to try and talk them out of it again, but you’d declined. “No,” you’d said with a grin. “I wanna see them try. It sounds fun.” 

He thought he possibly liked more about you than just your lip gloss.

The guys went all out. Some attempts didn’t seem too bad while others gave him a strong sense of secondhand embarrassment. But you seemed to be having fun with it, so who was he to intervene? And maybe, just maybe, he liked the way you’d throw him knowing glances from time to time, sharing a secret only for the two of you to know.

Yet, he wondered if maybe one of them would manage to sway your heart—he’d seen Kevin steal you away during your break earlier, to take you to the wooden jump tower near the cliffs. He liked to boast about his diving, and from the way Younghoon could hear you laughing from afar you seemed to be having fun. He stalled for a moment, watching how you were sitting on the pier, your feet dangling in the water. When Kevin pushed himself up with his arms to get onto the pier next to you, you playfully shoved him back, making him go under with a splash. He was laughing when he came back up, and so were you. That was a good thing, right? You were having fun. You already knew the thing with the bet too, so if you liked Kevin in spite of that then who was Younghoon to interfere? Kevin was a good guy anyway, and bet or not he seemed genuinely interested. No, there shouldn’t be any problem.

And yet, Younghoon felt bitter about it, a greedy part of him wishing he could have that laugh all to himself.

“So, can I have your number? In case I need a buddy to go diving with again sometime?” Kevin grinned up at you from the water, brushing back his wet hair. It reminded you of Younghoon, the way he’d run his hand through his hair every few minutes, pushing it out of his forehead just for it to fall right back into place. Maybe you should buy him some bobby pins—probably not. After all, you liked when he did that.

“Is that smile a yes?” Kevin pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Ah, sorry, left my phone at the bar,” you both knew it was just an excuse, but Kevin didn’t seem particularly offended. He swam over to the pier, resting his arms on the wooden board and propping up his chin.

“What has you so happy then?”

“Nothing much. Just a friend.”

“I can be a friend too,” he replied playfully. 

“Sure, friend,” you easily agreed, ignoring the flirty undertone that defeated the meaning of his words. Friends you could do.

To be honest, your expectations for this summer had been low. You didn't know anyone in this small town aside from your uncle and even though you had a good relationship with him, you could picture better ways to spend the hot season than helping out at his bar. To your surprise though, you were slowly starting to enjoy your time here. When you’d first heard of the bet it hadn’t left the best impression, but seeing them try so hard to impress you was a little cute and despite everything they seemed like sweet, genuine guys. And the fact that you knew about the bet made it pretty fun to watch the spectacle, even more so since you had someone to share mischievous smiles about it with. It felt like you were partners in crime, a secret friendship blooming between the two of you that had no real reason to be secret aside from the thrill of it all. 

You weren’t the fondest of riding the bicycle. In fact, back at home you didn’t even own one. You lived in the next bigger town and you got around just fine using public transport. That seemed unthinkable here though, with two buses running a day—one in the morning and one at night. So, if you didn’t want to walk everywhere, you had to make do with your cousin’s old bicycle that he’d used before he’d moved out for college. It was a little rattly but it was holding up pretty well—or at least that had been the case until today. You weren’t sure what exactly happened, but suddenly the counter pressure when pedaling had disappeared, and you’d almost fallen forward over the bicycle’s handlebars. Now you were standing at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, not even half way back to your uncle’s place with no reception and a chain that was just loosely hanging off the gears. It being night didn’t really help you to feel better about it all. While you knew it was probably safer here than in some street downtown that was bustling with drunk people, it still felt scarier, the tall trees along the road looming over you. Begrudgingly you pushed the bicycle forward, the lamp flickering weakly and barely doing anything to lighten up the path ahead.

In the distance, you heard the sound of an engine approaching, and the thought of coming across someone on this deserted street made your stomach churn with dread. A brief glance behind you told you it was a motorcycle, the headlight almost a little blinding in the darkness. Just before it went past you, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would go by fast. You wanted to let out a relieved breath once it did, but then you heard the motor stopping only a few meters ahead. Your eyes snapped open, panic rushing through your veins as you watched the driver get off. Your grip around the handle bars tightened, making your knuckles turn white. You made a point of not looking at the guy, even when he came closer, but then you heard a familiar voice.

“Y/n? You good?”

You raised your gaze in time to see him take off his helmet. He shook out his black hair before pushing it out of his forehead the way he always did.

“Younghoon.” Relief washed over you.

“Sorry, did I frighten you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So, what happened?” He took an examining look at your bicycle. “Chain came off?”

You shrugged helplessly. “Whatever you say.”

He nodded slowly, running his hand through his hair once more. “I can fix that for you.”

“Really?”

“It’s pretty simple. But maybe something for daylight. Let me give you a ride home and we’ll come back for it tomorrow?”

You glanced over to the motorcycle that was waiting a little ahead and then back to Younghoon. Your expression must have been weary because he grinned. “Don’t worry I have a spare helmet. And I’m a safe driver too.”

“I wasn’t doubting you.”

“It’s fine if you were.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Mhm, sure,” he stepped a little closer, putting the helmet on for you and closing the fastener under your chin. Your breath caught when his fingers brushed against your skin, the feeling lingering despite the fleetingness of the touch. “Ready to go?”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, trying to get a grip of yourself. “Just a—let me just—,” instead of finishing your sentence you just gestured towards your bicycle instead. He huffed a laugh and watched as you pushed it further to the side and leaned it against a tree in safe distance to the road. Once you’d locked it, you turned back around to Younghoon who was still looking at you. 

“Ready,” you croaked.

He smiled, and despite the darkness of the night you could see the small crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “Good.” 

You walked the few meters to his bike in silence and you thought there was an odd tension there. Or maybe you were just nervous about the ride, you reasoned with yourself. He got out his spare helmet, pushing his hair out of his forehead once more before putting it on. With ease he swung his leg over the machine before patting the leather of the seat behind him. You got on too, certainly looking a lot less dignified than he did and shuffled back as far as you could to bring some distance between the two of you. Before starting the motor, he looked back at you once more. “Hold on tight.” Unsure what exactly to hold onto, you clung to the edges of the seat, your nails digging into the leather.

He didn’t drive too fast, surely out of consideration for you, but you still couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. When he hit a small bump in the road, you let out a shriek, your arms instinctively letting go of the seat to wrap around his waist instead. You held on tight, the distance you’d made sure of before completely forgotten. Once you’d recovered from the brief shock though, you wondered if this was okay or if you’d overstepped. But Younghoon didn’t say anything about it and you didn’t want to let go again, not when you felt so safe with your arms wrapped around him.

The ride was over way too quickly, and you almost wished you’d given him wrong directions when he stopped in front of your uncle’s house. Chances of him catching on would have probably been high though, considering he was from here while you were just here for the summer.

“Are you sure it’s this one?” Younghoon said, after he’d taken off his helmet, looking at the house questioningly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just didn’t know you were related to the owner.”

“He’s my uncle,” you explained matter of factly. “But how do you know he lives here?”

Younghoon chuckled. “This is a pretty small town, you know?”

“Right,” you nodded. You took your helmet off too, awkwardly holding it out for him to take. “So, uh, thanks for the ride.”

He tore his gaze away from the house to meet yours. “Was my pleasure.” There was that sweet smile again, making your heart melt. You smacked your lips together, the way you did when applying lipstick—a nervous habit of yours. His gaze flickered to the movement before wandering back up to your eyes. There was something there. He took a small step towards you, just a few inches but it felt like he was suddenly way up in your personal space. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn't move. Instead he just kept looking at you with an unreadable expression.

Unable to hold eye contact, you lowered your head, staring at your feet instead. “I should go inside then.”

“Mhm, you should. I’ll pick you up tomorrow? Is around noon good?”

“Pick me up?”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Your bicycle, remember?”

“Oh, of course. Noon is good. Should I give you my number? Maybe you can text me fifteen minutes or so before you’ll be here tomorrow?”

“Not worried that this is all just part of my scheme to win the bet?” His voice was quiet and yet there was a cockiness to it that made your heart race.

"Shut up." It was a weak comeback, but it put a grin on Younghoon's face. His gaze dropped to your lips once more before coming back up.

"Make me."

Your eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the bold implication of his words. You swallowed around the lump in your throat, your whole body was thrumming with nerves. Your gaze flickered to his lips. You inched closer. That's what he'd meant right? You wouldn't be overstepping if you kissed him now, right? You looked up into his eyes, just to be sure that you weren't misunderstanding things. But right when you did, he cupped your jaw with his hand, pulling you in until his lips crashed into yours. 

Kissing him felt so natural, it was as if all your secret smiles and shared grins had naturally led up to this moment. You kissed him until you felt breathless and even then you were reluctant to pull away. When you finally did, he didn't let you go too far, his thumb drawing patterns on your cheek and his eyes taking in every inch of your face.

"I think I should really go now," you eventually broke the silence when you couldn't endure it anymore.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay," you repeated. "I'll see you around noon."

Younghoon couldn’t stop himself from smiling on the whole ride home. You'd forgotten to give him your number, but he felt that it didn't really matter anymore. He could just ask you again tomorrow. After all, he'd gotten something way better tonight. He recalled the way your arms had held onto him tightly on the ride and your tousled hair after you’d taken off the helmet. Mostly, he recalled how warm your lips had felt against his. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

The chain was back on in a matter of seconds. Younghoon looked as if he’d done it a zillion times before.

“And you couldn’t have done that last night?” You asked from where you were standing next to him, watching as he wiped his fingers on a cloth. Nothing had happened since he'd picked you up and you'd driven back to your bicycle together. You almost wondered if it was all an odd fever dream and he didn’t actually kiss you.

“I did say it was easy," He admitted simply, "But it’s always better to check everything with proper lighting rather than letting you ride home on a potentially broken bicycle. Can’t risk you getting hurt, can we?" 

It was just common decency but somehow the way he said it, looking up at you with a cheeky grin, made your heart skip a beat and your cheeks flush. You avoided his gaze, your focus falling onto his jaw instead. “You have a little—” you motioned to your own face, trying to mirror where he’d stained his skin with grease just below the jaw line. He tried to wipe it away with the back of his hand, his grin traded for something more innocent. “There?”

The scene captivated you a little too much, thoughts of touching that jaw, of pulling him into a kiss circling your mind. In your daze, it took you a second to snap out of it. “Yeah,” you mumbled, not really paying attention. "There."

Younghoon thoroughly made sure the bicycle was safe to ride and only then started to pack up his tools. You watched as he diligently put them away. 

“How come you know how to do this?” you eventually broke the silence.

“What, putting a chain back on?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” he shrugged. “I like fixing things. And it comes in handy too, doesn’t it?” He said the last bit with a smile that you couldn’t help but return.

“Yeah, it does. Thanks again.” 

He got up and dusted off his pants. “It’s nothing. Call me if something happens again.”

“I will.” Your gaze followed him as he walked back to his bike, getting his helmet from where it hung off the handle bars. He didn't put it on just yet, taking a quick glance at the wing mirror first.

“You lied!” He complained in mocked offense, before turning back around to you. He wore a pout, his finger pointing at the grease stain that was still right there below his jaw line.

You giggled. “What can I say, I’m neither upright nor honest.”

Younghoon grinned and walked back over to you, his helmet still in his hand. "Is that so?" He asked as he stepped back into your personal space. You took a tiny step towards him too, closely watching his reaction. That grin was still there. With a racing heart you tugged the cloth out from where he had messily shoved it into his pocket. Then you reached up to his jaw, slowly wiping at the grease stain until it was gone. The whole time, Younghoon was watching you intently, your eyes, your nose your lips—

You lowered your hand when you were done, but he caught your wrist to stop you from going too far.

"Thanks." His voice was barely a whisper. Your eyes flickered to his mouth.

"You're welcome," you replied just as quietly, inching just the tiniest bit closer. You felt his breath on your skin and then his lips on yours, again and again and again.

Things between the two of you felt exciting and new and good—but there was also this looming uncertainty. Younghoon knew what it meant to him. But what about you? What was all this to you? Even though he didn't want to delude himself, he couldn't help hoping that this, that he was special to you. The secret smiles you exchanged started to feel a little different, like there was a little more. And there was: the two of you were texting a lot now that you'd exchanged numbers and you often came down to the beach earlier to hang out with him on the old lighthouse before your shift. You weren’t doing that for the other guys. Your gaze also didn't linger on them the way it did on him, no matter how much they pestered you. And of course you weren't kissing them either. That was, as far as he knew, reserved for him alone. That made it easy to endure when you were laughing and joking around with the guys. Except at times, you'd glance over to him with a cocky grin. Almost as if you wanted to make sure he was watching, as if you wanted to purposely rile him up. It made him want to walk over and kiss you right there in front of them, but you hadn't talked about these things yet and you seemed to enjoy the thrill of hide and seek. So, kissing was only allowed for when you were alone with no one to see.

Consequently he was keeping a low profile, sitting in the sand with some of the others and pretending not to watch from afar how Changmin and Juyeon were leaning on the counter, competing for your attention. Eventually he tore his gaze away to focus on the conversation in front of him instead, which only got interrupted when Jacob remarked that Changmin and Juyeon must have been unsuccessful, as they were coming back down to the beach. You on the other hand were not behind the bar anymore, a small sign indicating that it was closed for now. A feeling of worry started to spread in his guts. Did something happen? Did they make you feel uncomfortable? He knew his friends were good guys and wouldn’t ever intentionally do that, but just because it wasn't their intention didn't mean it couldn’t happen. Maybe it was nothing, but he just needed to make sure you were okay.

Without thinking further he got up from the sand, jogging past Changmin and Juyeon who looked at him in confusion, and up to the bar. You weren't anywhere to be found though, the little door locked and the space behind the counter empty. The other only place he could come up with was the lighthouse, so he made his way there, hurrying up the spiral staircase until he got to you, sitting in the middle of the steps and munching on a sandwich. You looked up at him in surprise as he stood before you, breathing a little heavy, but a smile spreading on his lips. He chuckled. He should have known he was worrying for nothing.

"You're on break?"

"Mhm," you nodded and scooted over a bit, making space for you to sit with him. "What's the hurry for?" 

There was a little sauce on your upper lip. He reached out to wipe it away and you simply let him.

"I don't know, I was wondering if you're fine."

"Why wouldn't I be?'

He shrugged. He didn't know either, after all you'd never been uncomfortable with the boys' advances. Maybe he was the only one who felt that way. 

You leaned in a little closer, bumping your shoulder against his with a cheeky grin. "Or were you maybe jealous?"

With a huffed laugh he met your gaze. "What if I was?"

He thought he saw your cheeks flush when you focused back on your sandwich. "Maybe I'd like that."

It was late, around midnight, and you listened to the sound of the waves as you sat side by side in the sand. The bar was still open, but your uncle had taken on the night shift, giving you the freedom to spend your time out here, away from people. You hear the music and laughter from afar and if you turned around you'd see the colorful string lights too, but you much preferred the view of the ocean in front of you. At least for now.

Younghoon was sitting close to you, his hand just barely touching yours. You wondered if he was cold in his white tee while you were all wrapped up in his cozy hoodie. You inched closer, intertwining your fingers and pulling his hand into your lap. Maybe you could at least keep his arm warm. He turned to look at you with a smile, before running his free hand through his hair.

"The boys would hate this," he said with a chuckle. 

"Would they really?" Your voice sounded more serious than intended. You knew it was just an offhand comment, but it made you wonder if that could be a dealbreaker for him. You knew he treasured his friends.

He considered for a moment. "Only if I'm not serious. They care about you, you know." 

"So, are you? Serious?"

"Yeah." He didn't shy away from your gaze. "I'm serious."

You squeezed his hand in yours and he squeezed right back and even though it was such a small gesture it gave you butterflies. He was serious about you, about this. With flushed cheeks and a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned your head against his shoulder. You sat like that for a while, back to listening to the waves.

"Maybe we should end their bet," you eventually mumbled. "Since they already lost." You could imagine the surprise on their face if you were to tell them.

"Mhm, we should," he rested his head against yours, "but not now. Let's stay here a little longer."

 "Yeah, let's."

"That actually makes so much sense," Eric exclaimed dramatically, after you'd told them a few days later. "How else would you have resisted my charm?" 

Changmin huffed a laugh. "Right, because you're so irresistible."

"Hey–"

"Anyway," Sangyeon interrupted, "that means the bet is off."

Sunwoo looked at him with a raised eyebrow, casually resting his arm on Younghoon's shoulder. "You're only saying that because you've lost. Younghoon is clearly on team beach volleyball. He just joined in on a game the other day."

Eric shook his head and formed an X with his arms. "Nope, no, he clearly said he wasn't joining."

Younghoon rolled his eyes at their antics, wondering if he should say something to make them shut up. But then he met your amused gaze and decided to leave it be. 

"What was the wager anyway?" You asked him quietly. 

Younghoon shrugged as he intertwined his fingers with yours. "I have no idea." 

You giggled. He liked the sound of it and the happy glint in your eyes. He also liked the shimmer of your lip gloss.

no tbz masterlist (edit: nvmnd here it is) but feel free to check out my other works if you liked this or leave a follow to keep up with future works~

[kaizokuniichan]

Zoro x reader; gn! reader; some heavy petting; alcohol use; MDNI; purely self-indulgent

The one in which Zoro finds ways to irk the shit out of you because it’s fun.

(Divider by @cafekitsune )

Zoro loved being annoying. More specifically, he loved annoying you. From the moment you’d stepped aboard the Sunny; wide-eyed and subtly inching away from him, he vowed that his sole purpose was to fuck with you. It was quite easy to fall into that routine, considering there wasn’t much fanfare in the development of your relationship as crew mates. He acted as he pleased simply because it felt right.

You couldn’t stroll past him without him cracking his eye open and calling out to you, badgering you with a lofty quip.

“Oi.”

“What? What is it now?”

“Pass me that bottle of sake.”

You’d look down, noting the bottle mere inches from his boot, and with an exasperated sigh, toss it back to him with all of the force you could muster. He’d catch it one-handed, devilish smirk widening at the impact of it hitting his palm. You’d been trying to aim it at his head, and the thought of your petulance made his ego swell. Irritation radiated off of you, but you’d still obliged. And that fact scratched at something so deep within his chest that he simply couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stop. And that’s all there was to it.

He’d also taken up startling you whenever he could. You tended to be very uneasy around him after all. He’d sneak up behind you, and with his gravelly baritone, inquire “what is it that you’re doing, staring off into nothing like that?” You’d jump with a shout, whirling around with fire in your eyes and a curse upon your tongue that dripped syrupy sweet into his ears. Smacking his shoulder, you’d stalk away, mumbling to yourself about how childish he was.

It was more than obvious to mostly everyone what he was doing.

“You seem to be paying an unusual amount of attention to someone,” came Robin, that mysterious, all-knowing twinkle in her gaze.

“You’re acting like such a little schoolboy,” Nami scolded.

“You know, you could just use your words,” Usopp would murmur.

But Zoro wasn’t one to care much about what people thought. And you remained oblivious, just how he liked it.

Drinking with you made him truly insufferable. It was one of the few times you could stand to be in his presence for more than ten minutes, given you were just as much of a lush as he was. Unabashedly he’d cling to you, whining about how frosty you were towards him. You’d try to go off on your own in search of a local pub. But he insisted you were “too much of a weakling” and “there’s too many big and scary men out there, you need someone to protect you.”

“That is literally the most insane pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,” you spat. “Either you come along or don’t. Regardless, leave me the hell alone.” Without bothering to hear his reply, you began to walk away.

“Actually, you know what,” you spun around, “I’m not gonna babysit your hopelessly, directionally challenged ass. Just wait right here and I’ll go grab some booze from the kitchen.”

You had a real mean streak about you when it came to Zoro. But that’s ok. He liked it that way, too much in fact. Your short fuse made it all too easy. It wasn’t his fault you kept fulfilling his every whim, albeit, begrudgingly. He’d have nothing to work with if that wasn’t the case. As it stands, he was the only one who could push your buttons like that, and boy did that feel good.

You’d barely made it back to the deck, balancing an armful of booze, when he hooked his arm around your neck and guided you to the crow’s nest. Silently, you followed his lead.

As the two of you sat on the rounded bench overlooking the deck, you took one of the bottles of wine and passed him his own bottle of sake. Drinking in silence, he watched you out of the corner of his eye, following the golden shafts of sunset caressing your skin. Once twilight and stars speckled the sky, you both were well, and truly buzzed; him red-cheeked and buoyant, and you relaxed and giggly. It was his favorite look on you.

Somehow, his head found it’s way onto your shoulder, and your fingers carded through his mint-colored hair. Both of you took a swig from your respective bottles and settled deeper into the cushions of the bench.

“Why do you keep testing my patience like that’” you inquired.

“What do you mean,” he sighed, turning his face into the crook of your neck. You were always so warm, and you smelled so, so sweet.

“You know what I mean.” Your fingers continued crawling along his scalp, grip tightening slightly.

“Ah. Well. It’s fun I guess. Gives me something to do.”

You hummed, turning your face slightly towards his. With one hand you tapped his forehead to get his attention, and he looked up at you, unfairly long lashes fluttering over his eyes. Squeezing his cheeks with your other hand, you bumped your nose against his.

“Stop fucking with me, or I might start to think you like me,”

“And what if I do?”

Your body recoils, but his arm wraps tightly around your waist before you can shuffle your way out of his reach.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Come on, I know you’re not that dumb.”

Your grip on his jaw grows tighter.

“I swear to God, if you’re actually fucking with me…”

“Ooh, I like it when you threaten me like that. But really, you know I’m serious.”

With a resigned scoff you unthinkingly crush your lips to his, a soft moan of relief bleeding into his mouth. His hand at your waist squeezes possessively, and he pulls you so that you straddle his lap. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you allow the alcohol in your system to guide your tongue past his lips. His hands make a journey to your ass, squeezing and pulling you against him. You release his mouth with a sigh; he bites into your neck, tongue darting out to soothe the pain. You’re a squirmy little thing, grinding your hips along his pelvis and thighs. His other hand makes it’s way to the back of your neck and he presses his lips against your ear.

“I knew you wanted this.”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

A dark chuckle escapes his lips and he tightens his hold around your waist, flipping you onto your back.

“Well now that I know you want me. Where do we go from here?”

Your hands grip his robe, pulling him closer as your chest heaves. Thick, calloused fingers crawl up your shirt and grope your chest. Widening your legs to allow him to settle between them, you mirror his trademark smirk

“You can start by removing my pants and putting that smart mouth of yours where it belongs.”

[slowandsteddie]

Lazy Petals

AO3

Okay. This work is NOT completed. I cannot guarantee an update schedule because only the first chapter is completed. However, I DO have everything plotted out (assuming it doesn’t get a mind of its own) and the goal is to be 50k+ words.

This story is very personal to me. I’ve taken my grandparents love/live story and made it Steddie. The characters are going to be OOC. Just letting you know right off the bat in case that is something you aren’t interested in. Also, this is a No Upsidedown AU.

My grandparents were immediately obsessed with each other, but didn’t date until after they had graduated high school. Which means that while this isn’t a slow burn, it is going to be slower than the stuff I usually write.

I don’t want to give too, too much stuff away. There there is a post where I described the main highlights and asked your opinion on reading it. There is also a poll where I asked if I should start posting before it was finished, and I got a pretty definite yes.

I saved the divider that I plan on using for this series back when I first started talking about it. I have since lost my note that told me whom to give credit to. If you know who made it (or know how to find that information on mobile!!) please let me know.

I think that’s enough of a preamble. Without further ado, here be the CW’s and the first 3,489 words.

Content Warnings: Steve was hit by a car and in a full body cast for over a year - he makes a bowling joke about it, his parents are very distant, his grandparents got very distant after his injury and he doesn’t understand why, Wayne is very careful while babysitting to make sure that no one can accuse him of being inappropriate, mentions of his mom overmedicating him so he’s easier to deal with, mentions of how weak he got from being in the cast. And as always, let me know if I missed anything.

Steve didn’t remember much about that night.

His mother said that it was a blessing and refused to fill in any blanks for him under any circumstances.

His father, however, if he had drunk enough whiskey, would look at the six year old Steve as though he were a much older man and sigh before telling him anything he wanted to know.

Which meant that Steve knew that the car that hit him swerved in order to do so. (He didn’t know if the lady in the little blue car did it on purpose, or if she was a distracted driver. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know that.) He knew that she had to have been going over forty miles per hour because the impact sent him flying at least a dozen feet before he slammed into that bus stop. He knew that the driver kept going and that at least half a dozen people ran to his aid and that one of the women had screamed because he was unconscious and she was so certain that he was dead. His little body was so broken and bloody and they couldn’t see him breathe.

He also knew that his father got to his hospital room before his mother, sweat pouring down the older male’s body as though he had showered in his clothes because he had run there from work. His mother showed up over twenty minutes later, all put together like she had taken the time to clean herself up before appearing. Something his father wasn’t sure if he could forgive her for. (This was one of the few times that his father would express just how much that he loved Steve, and he would carry that warmth with him forever.)

He knew that they had to revive him four times, that they had done twelve surgeries, that they had put him in a full body cast because nearly every bone in his body had been broken, including parts of his spine. He knew that his parents had been told that he would likely never walk again. He knew that a specialist had pulled his father aside to inform him that his brain wouldn’t develop normally after all of the trauma that it had been through after being smacked around in his skull. They’d have to be careful, and that they’d have to understand if he never progressed much past the age that he was now. That he could be in his fifties and still acting five and that there was nothing that could be done beyond what they had already done – remove a small part of bone behind his ear to help relieve the pressure and pray for the best while preparing for the worst.

And, while he couldn’t remember the absolute agony that he must have been in. He did have the descriptions that he used to tell his father. That there was lava in his veins and his bones were shards of ice cold glass threatening to tear him apart completely. His father had only told him that part once, with tears in his eyes. “There wasn’t anything I could do to help you, boy. I couldn’t take the pain away. I would have died to save you even a fraction of that.”

That was one of the few times that he could remember his dad hugging him. He had been so careful and gentle while pressing his face into his hair. He inhaled deeply and he cried. And Steve had done his best to hug him back despite the plaster that made it near-impossible to move his arms at all.

At first, Steve had thought that it was really cool to be stuck in bed all the time. He didn’t have to do anything. That got boring within a week and he still had at least a year ahead of him where he was meant to stay in bed unless he was in the bathroom or at a doctor’s appointment.

Even eating in bed, something that had once been unacceptable and even punishable before, lost its novelty pretty quickly.

He liked having his mom read him notes from the teacher and his classmates. He liked her reading him his homework assignments and writing down his answers for him so that he would still be on track. It made him feel like an important man, like his dad was going to be, with a secretary.

The thing is, though, that he really missed going outside. He missed playing in the woods outside of the trailer park where he lived. He missed going to his grandparents house with the pool and the stairs that he’d probably never be able to walk again. He could climb them, though, after the cast was removed. He was pretty sure. He might not have a lot of muscle left at that point, but that would just mean that he was lighter and had less to have to move anyway.

When Steve brought that up to his mother, her lips would turn into a very tight, thin line and something he couldn’t name would flash in her eyes. “You are not going to go to that house any time soon, young man. It’s best to let those ideas go.”

“But I miss Grandma Marty and Grandpa Pete, and they won’t come here,” he whined.

“The Harrington’s won’t come to the trailer park and you know that.”

“We’re Harrington’s too,” he’d say defiantly.

She’d leave the room at that. Effectively ending an argument that they had had multiple times before. But what else did Steve have to talk about? He didn’t really have anyone else to talk to either, other than their neighbor that he had taken to calling Mister Wayne.

Wayne was probably a few years older than his dad and lived alone in a trailer that had always seemed so lively despite the quiet man who lived in it. He always had the tv or the radio on when he was home and Steve lived for that. Because his window was always cracked open for the breeze, which meant the sound could drift to him as well.

It was better than the quiet of his house that only seemed to get broken up with arguments and slamming doors. He was so used to it, but he still flinched every time and did his best to pull the blanket over his head as though that would muffle the sounds.

Sometimes, Wayne would come to his window and read him a book that his own nephew liked. The Hobbit. Steve fell in love with the adventure of it, and Wayne never seemed to mind reading him the same book over and over, a few pages at a time while he smoked.

More often than not, Wayne was the one who came over to babysit once he noticed that Steve had been left alone. He never once complained about it, never once gave someone else the chance despite all the ladies who would come over with food. And wine for his mom, when they could spare it.

Sometimes, Wayne would talk about his nephew. He was a scrawny kid, a few years older than Steve, named Eddie. Had a dark mop of long curly hair, and eyes that always seemed to have mischief in them. They’d like each other, Wayne was pretty sure, and he’d introduce them the next time that Eddie came to visit.

Steve would want to ask when that would be, but he never did. He had Mister Wayne and that was more than enough for him. His dad was staying later at the office, trying to prove that he deserved that promotion that would get them the hell out of the trailer park, without his parents' money. His mother was getting into yoga and book clubs, and Steve was being left alone a lot. Because, what kind of trouble could he get into when he was stuck in bed? Besides, the neighbors could hear if he shouted for anything and Wayne seemed very invested in making sure that he was okay.

Steve never knew why the older man made sure that his curtains were always wide open and that his light was on so that others could see that he was reading to him, or talking with him, from a chair that was always at least three feet away. Maybe it was so they would know he wasn’t alone? He wasn’t going to ask about it, not wanting to chance scaring away the one adult who never raised his voice at him, who never abandoned him when things got hard like his grandparents seemed to.

Months went by like this. His parents not being home, his grandparents not even calling about him, and Wayne doing his best to fill in the difference despite his own job. The other neighbors would come on occasion, but Steve was very sullen with them where he would laugh with Wayne. That didn’t deter them from coming over as he would have liked, and begrudgingly he found himself becoming friendly with a few of them.

It was the beginning of summer when Steve was finally able to get the casts removed. His father took him to the appointment, and he tried to not be disappointed that his mother wasn’t there at first. By the time he was wheeled out to the front of the office, though, his mother was sitting where his father had been.

He did his best to not look at himself. He was pale and scrawny and kind of stinky from not being able to wash himself properly because of all the plaster that had basically covered him for over a year. Most of his bones had healed great, according to the doctor. He wouldn’t know because he still hadn’t looked.

His father came back from wherever he had been, paid the bill with tight lips, and then took Steve out to the car. His mother helped him into the seat before covering him with a blanket that he was grateful for. It wasn’t that he was cold, he just didn’t want the chance to look at himself yet. He wanted to do that when he was home, where if he broke down and cried, no one else would know. Or, he wouldn’t have to see them knowing in any case. And that was enough for him.

They stopped for ice cream on the way and Steve asked for a small strawberry cone. Strawberry wasn’t his favorite, but it was what Grandma Marty had all the time, and he missed her even though she didn’t acknowledge him anymore. Wouldn’t answer his calls, wouldn’t call him back. He didn’t even know if she got the letters that Wayne had helped him write.

When they got home, Wayne wasn’t home. Not for the first time, Steve found himself deeply upset by that. He’d never voice it. Adults had responsibilities outside of him. And he knew that he only got about an hour with Wayne a day, maybe two if he was incredibly lucky.

His father came to help him out of the car, because he had more muscle if Steve should happen to fall. He clung to his father’s arm with all the strength that could muster as he walked like a baby giraffe toward their trailer. Well, he called it walking. It was more like wiggling his lower spine and hips while throwing his legs forward. After maybe five steps like that, he found himself being lifted into his father’s impatient arms as he was carried the rest of the way in and sat on the couch.

“Thank you,” Steve said instead of complaining about not being able to use his legs. He had wanted to walk, to prove that he could.

His father simply grunted in response before going to the kitchen to grab a drink. The same way he always did when he was home for the night.

His mother was inside a few minutes behind them, having stopped to talk to a neighbor briefly. She looked at Steve on the couch and tilted her head at him with a calculating look in her eyes.

“Would you like a bath?”

“Yes, please.”

This time, Steve did get to walk on his own two feet to the destination. He was leaning heavily on the wall, almost gripping on to it with one hand as he practically threw himself forward. He was breathless by the time that he got to the bathroom and pain seemed to radiate out through his entire body, starting at his tail bone.

“You can have some meds after your bath,” his mother said gently. “And I’ll get you your refill before dinner, okay? So you don’t have to worry about running out.”

Steve didn’t think it was time to refill his medicine yet, but he didn’t question it. His mom was on top of it. He was a kid who lost track of time a lot.

He sat on the toilet and he watched his mom prepare the bath for him, knowing that she would only let him have the water a little above room temperature. His skin was sensitive and the steam wouldn’t be good for him with the medicine that he was taking. He couldn’t even have hot food without the steam making him nauseous.

Carefully, he was pulled back to his feet and stripped of his clothes before he was helped into the tub that seemed to be more bubble than water. He sat down carefully, wincing a bit as he did so, before letting himself lean back in the water that felt warmer than it probably was because of his weakened, cool skin.

He sighed in contentment as his mother washed his body for the first time in what seemed like years. He was nearing seven years old and thinking about years in the past, it would make his dad laugh if he shared that thought with him, an idea that made him smile.

His mom washed his hair, tilting his head back and using a hand to make sure that no soap got in his eyes that he had squeezed tight. He got to play in the bubbles for a few minutes, his dad standing at the door as his mom got him some comfy clothes and a towel.

It was his dad who dried him off and helped him get into his clothes.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he said softly. He knew he was expected to thank his dad for everything he did that was above and beyond, which meant he ended up thanking him for everything.

Steve was carried back to his bed, something that he would have whined about if he wasn’t so tired and in so much pain. He was tucked in and his mom came to give him some toast and juice to take his pills with. He knew he was only meant to have one, but he took both that his mother gave him anyway. He washed it away with grape juice and half of the slice of toast she had brought him.

“Thank you, Mommy,” he murmured.

“Get some rest, love,” she replied while kissing his forehead. “You had a big day today.”

Steve nodded in agreement, wishing that it could be that easy to just let the sleep overtake him. He closed his eyes as his mom left the room.

His father checked on him once a day, his mother gave him two pills instead of one, and made sure he at least had breakfast and dinner. One of the neighbors made sure he had lunch and new puzzles to work on, new toys to play with. Steve would wander around the trailer as best as he was able, and Wayne would read to him before he went to bed.

Days turned to weeks like that.

One day, Wayne wasn’t at work and both of Steve’s parents were gone. He wandered over to his bedroom window and opened it wide.

“Mister Wayne, if I can get to the front door, can you help me out?”

His walking was still unsteady and stairs were very difficult for him.

“Are your parents okay with you being outside?” Wayne asked sympathetically.

“Uh. Dad said I could as long as I either finished my puzzle or put it up first.”

Wayne gave him a knowing look. “Okay, you little hellion. But only because I know you’d hurt yourself trying to do it anyway.”

Steve beamed and closed his window most of the way before making his way to the front door. It was a struggle to unlock the door because of the latch chain, but he managed. Wayne was waiting there for him with an unlit cigarette hanging between his lips.

“Getting outside used to be easier,” he sighed before reaching out.

“Maybe it’s the weight of knowing that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be,” Wayne teased as he picked Steve up and set him back down on the ground.

“No idea what that means, but thank you for helping me pass the stairs.” Steve grinned widely, the dirt and grass squishing slightly beneath his toes. It felt so good.

“You’re welcome, brat.”

Steve giggled before doing his version of walking. He took maybe ten steps, very much aware of how closely he was being watched. His breath came a little harder from the effort, the times between walking so close together. Shakily, he sat down as carefully as he was able. Movement caught his attention and made his head snap up to look toward Wayne’s trailer.

“You gotta ghost!” He exclaimed.

Wayne laughed at that, shaking his head. “That’s the nephew I’ve been telling you about. He’s staying with me for awhile. Treat him like a skittish cat until he’s used to ya, and I’m sure y’all would be good friends.”

“Eddie,” Steve said happily. “Can he come out so I can meet him?”

“I’ll send him out after I smoke my cigarette,” he said as he put more distance between them before lighting up.

“Thank you!”

Steve laid down flat on the grass, spreading his arms and legs out as much as he could without the pain becoming unbearable. It wasn’t very far, but he didn’t care. He got to grip the green strands in his fingers. He got to feel the light and heat of the sun soaking into his skin and settling into his bones. He was beyond convinced that the bright yellow thing in the sky was much more healing than the meds that made him feel tingly from his head to his toes.

He must have fallen asleep like that, because next thing he knew he was being awoken by a toe nudging his shoulder. His eyes flashed open and he was met by the most dark, beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Uncle Wayne said you just got released from the mummy’s curse.”

“He said that?”

“Well. He said your name was Steve and you just got a full body cast removed a few weeks ago.”

“That sounds more like him.”

“So…What happened?”

“A lady tried to go bowling with me and her car. The only pin she knocked down was me.”

Eddie snorted. “Shoulda planted your feet more firmly, she woulda gotten a strike.”

Steve’s lips tugged into the widest smile that he had ever had on his face. “My parents don’t like it when I joke about it.”

“Parents are stupid.”

“Yeah. How long are you stayin’?”

“As long as I can.”

Steve hummed in thought. “You any good at reading out loud?”

“Depends. What book?”

“The Hobbit.”

Eddie’s entire face lit up, his huge smile showing off the chipped front tooth. “My favorite book in the entire world? Yeah, I’m pretty good at reading it out loud.”

“We should read to each other. I have troubles with some words, but I am trying.”

“I’d like having someone to read and play with.”

“Oh, uh. Playing is hard for me right now. I’m still trying to get my strength back.”

“It’s okay. We read The Hobbit, we gotta have a pretty good imagination. We can pretend to play.”

Steve blushed and looked away. He never had someone his own age willing to work around his limitations before.

“I heard about a game with dice where we can talk out stuff and the dice decide how well it goes,” Steve said suddenly.

“Dungeons and Dragons!” Eddie apparently decided that he was tired of standing because he flopped down next to him at that. He rolled around in the grass before eventually settling on his side, propping his head up on his hand. “I can find a way to make that work with just two people.”

“Oh.”

“Turn that frown upside down, friend. I like a challenge. We’ll make this work because it sounds like fun.”

Steve beamed.

Taglist (let me know if you want added or removed! I was just trying to get who I remembered to seem interested!):

@estrellami-1 @eriquin @epiclazershark @morganski-19 @ellaelsinore @y4r3luv @valinwonderland @thespaceantwhowrites @jackiemonroe5512 @spectrum-spectre @princessstevemunson @ghost--enthusiast @gothwifehotchner @kas-eddie-munson @auroraplume @salisbury-at-the-stake @currently-steddiebrainrot @finntheehumaneater @marshmellowpaint @littlewildflowerkitten @perseus-notjackson @sapphirecobalt-1 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gloomysoup @anne-bennett-cosplayer

[aliceisathome]

Man I love Wandee Goodday - this is a grown up bl that's managing to be funny, sexy and informative without becoming preachy. They are repping for everything from mental health and vaccines to communication, consent and fun sex. There's a femme guy who's managing a gym, an ace psychiatrist who's designing sex aids, sensitive boxers, and no evil female character. All this and a villain we all want to the boxer to punch. It's glorious.

Anyway our 'fake' boyfriends continue to be incredibly supportive of each other but NO! DOC! You got that pic of you and Ter out of the bin and saved it. Poor Yak - he looked so content poking around your shelves. Gah. Now he thinks you're still into Ter. Please tell me you're not still into Ter Dee - he's just a toxic habit you've given up surely?*

Kao channelling the viewers in this convo with Dee, and throwing truth bombs as usual. Once again proving he is the true MVP of this series - now give him someone to cuddle dammit.

I'm not sure how Yak resisted punching Ter just now but I loved Cher's little mother moment.

Holy arms Batman.

Aaand I'm back.

Every now and again I forget that there's nearly a decade's age difference between Dee and Yak - Dee might be smart but, as Kao knows, he's a little immature emotionally.

I'm more shocked by the fact that Dee wore his Teeny Tiger gear to Ter's place than that he left the candles burning. What are you doing Dee? Why did you stay? That smug bastard is complimenting your tiger costume - the tiger costume you should be keeping for Yak.

Honestly I don't blame Yak one little bit - he waits for ages then finds Dee in his sexy tiger getup with a half naked Ter. Do we think Ter deliberately sabotaged his bathroom tap? Yes, yes we do.

Loved Kao here.

Noooo - the inevitable break up. Sometimes I hate the narrative arc - I'd be happy just watching another 5 eps of Dee and Yak just being boyfriends and snuggly and domestic.

And now we have the crying. You silly men, both thinking it's the other who doesn't really care. The reach for the comfort of the necklace that's no longer there? Gutted. Literally gutted.

And now I feel sorry for Taem as well - I thought she liked Mr Student Council. Ter, not so much - even if I believed the manipulative fucker. And of course he passed out so we didn't get to see if Dee would have given him his first kiss while we did see Yak decide not to kiss Taem.

Cher, my sassy little queen, I love you so much. Please give your big boyfriend a smack for us. He is an idiot.

And this is not how I wanted the first kiss - I wanted it to be joyful. It was a good kiss - a great kiss - but neither of them were wearing their colour and they weren't lit by them either. That's what I want to see - them dressed in their yellow and purple, bathed in their light and declaring undying love. Give it to me now!

Wandee Goodday has been a happy counterbalance to the sheer stress and tension of My Stand In. Except this week. Ter and Tong are cut from the same cloth and they both deserve to have the snot slapped out of them.

But because Wandee Goodday has been so delightful so far, this episode has hit me hard - I need to go and watch something tooth achingly sweet and cuddle my cat.

*much like me and cigarettes - I gave up years ago but every now and again I still REALLY want one.

NB the interviews, bts etc are excellent - I don't usually watch these but Great and Inn are so good in them. They're both older than other GMMtv newbies and haven't grown up with the company so are just brilliantly relaxed and playful with each other. It looks like some of the dialogue and action is developed and/or improvised by these two as well - they're very naughty and Golf just lets them go for it.

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: We have another Lucas/Diana scene with complex emotions! I kinda feel bad for Diana. She's going through so much personally on her own but she's putting on a brave face while also trying to fix everything by trying to find Barb. It's a lot for a 15-year old to deal with.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 3082

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

SINCLAIR RESIDENCE 

“Diana.” 

I snap open my eyes lurching forward in panic only to smack my head against something hard. 

“Ow!” 

“Son of a bitch!” 

Lucas curses stumbling backward. My head hurts so much it’s developing a pulse. 

“What the heck, Diana!” Lucas snaps, holding his head. 

“Why were you hovering over me like that?” I grumble, rubbing my forehead tenderly. I’m too tired to scold Lucas for swearing.

“Mom told me to wake you. Everyone is downstairs eating breakfast.” I groan flopping back onto my pillow. I don’t know what time I fell asleep or even when I did. But looking down I see I slept on my sheets with no blanket. All I remember is figuring out—I lurch forward again and Lucas flinches. “What’s the matter with you!?” 

I ignore him crawling to the foot of my bed and sure enough, files and papers are scattered across my room. I push my tangled curls out my face, climbing off my bed and crouch in front of my papers. Everything came rushing back. The monster is a true predator and attacks based on primal instinct. We need to lure it to us with blood.

“Diana?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes, of course.” I reply, organizing my notes. “Why do you ask?” I need to call Nancy and then we can get Jonathan to help us find the thing. 

“You’re mumbling to yourself like Sméagol.” 

I scrunch my nose, putting a small stack of papers in its respective file. “Sméagol?”  

“Gollum.” Lucas sighs. 

I stop what I’m doing and squint at him. “Gollum?”

Lucas rolls his eyes, waving his hand. “Never mind.” 

I shrug, returning back to my task. Where can we lure the monster? It can’t be in the forest, that’s where it lives, at least that’s where it lives where it came from. To have the upper hand, we need to trap it in an enclosed space where it can’t attack us. But where? Hawkins is a small town, there’s nowhere to put this thing without drawing attention to ourselves—

“What’s with the flowers?”

I snap my head to the side not expecting Lucas to still be in my room, especially after our collision. I blink. Flowers? Oh. I close the filing bin stumbling toward the dresser. The flowers Eddie got me are in a small jar of water. I was so spooked out last night I didn’t notice them. That also means Mom was in my room yesterday. I trace a finger along a petal and the butterflies flutter in my stomach. Suddenly the petals of the flowers turn to teeth and I recoil snapping my hand back. 

“Seriously, Diana. What the heck is wrong with you?” 

I open my eyes and the flowers are just flowers. No teeth. Just flowers. “Nothing. I’m fine.” I back away rubbing my head. The throbbing pain has turned to a dull ache. 

“Are you sure?” Lucas asks. “You seem…” I arch my brow waiting for him to finish the sentence. A momentary look of discomfort crossed his face and he decides against saying what he really wants to say. “Chipper.” 

“Ha. Ha.” I deadpan. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, if that’s what you’re referring to.” 

“I can tell.” Lucas mumbles under his breath. I ignore his comment going into my closet to find clothes to wear for the day. 

From the corner of my eye, I see the trash bag with my soiled clothes in the corner and my heart begins to beat slow and heavy in my chest. I need to figure out how to get rid of that without being questioned. I lick my lips and clear my throat sifting through my clothes. “Tell mom, I’ll be down soon. I’m just freshening up.” 

Today we are going kill the thing and find Will and Barb. Then everything will be okay and life can return to normal. I can go back to dance and be the best damned Lead Marzipan Hawkins has ever seen. However, I need to find an outfit to start this chain of events. I find a pair of old denim overalls Mom gave to me from when she was a teenager. They’re a little big but comfy. I pull a plaid button up shirt and rummage through my shelf where I keep my long sleeve tops and pick out a white long-sleeved shirt. Throwing my clothes over my shoulder, I crouch down to my knees looking for a pair of sneakers. After all that running I did last night in boots, I need to be prepared today. Classic black and white converse it is. 

I am surprised to still see Lucas in my room when I drop my clothes on my bed. He’s staring at the flowers on my dresser and I hope he doesn’t ask about them again. I’ve already been interrogated by Erica. I pass him to get to my dresser finding a pair of socks to put on. It is not uncommon for Lucas to be in my room while I’m doing something. Usually, he’s lying down on my bed reading a comic book explaining what’s happening to me even though we both know I have no idea what he’s talking about or I’m practising a variation asking him for his opinion on what looks better. But right now, my room feels the same way his room felt on Monday. Cold. Lucas is right beside me yet, I feel miles away from him. 

I tilt my head to the side, studying my brother. Though intensely calm, his dark brown eyes held the smallest hints of concern. When he rubs the back of his head wincing in discomfort, my big sister alarm immediately goes off. 

“What’s wrong?” Lucas stiffens at the question and my eyes go wide. I march to him reaching out to touch his head. Lucas leans back, frowning up at me. 

“What are you doing?” He grunts, nostrils flaring.  

“What happened to your head?” 

Lucas presses his lips together as though holding back what he really wanted to say. I tuck a curl behind my ear and sigh, leaning beside him. 

“If something happened to you at the Wheeler’s—” 

“Nothing happened.” Lucas grumbles, stubbornly. 

“Okay, well, something did happen or else you wouldn’t be here still. I’m awake now.” 

“Fine. I’ll go then.” He grumbles, marching to my door. My jaw drops and I rush after him blocking his path. 

“Lucas!” 

I’m so confused and after my near-death experience, lack of sleep, and head trauma, my patience is running thin. I clasp my hands together closing my eyes and count down from five in my head. “I’m just trying to help,” I say as calmly as possible, opening my eyes. “You know you can tell me anything.” Lucas doesn’t say anything, but the line between his forehead disappears. “Is it about Will? I know the past few days have been hard and I am so sorry if I haven’t been there for you as much. But I’m here for you, you know that right?” 

Lucas looks down, twisting his mouth. “I know,” he mumbles. “It’s just…” 

“What?” 

I can see the cogs turning in his head. It’s like he’s fighting within himself about something and it worries me. Usually, I am in tune and hyper aware of his emotions and what’s happening in his life, but with everything that’s going on with Barb and what happened in the woods, I feel like I’ve fallen off in being there for him. 

“I can’t believe he’s gone.” He whispered. 

I swallow down the lump forming in my throat and pull him in my arms. On instant, Lucas hugs me back and I inhale his boyish scent of coconut and the outdoors. We’re going to find Will and bring him back, I promise. 

“You’ve always been there for me.” Lucas mumbles. “I don’t want you to feel like you haven’t. You’re always worried about me and how I’m doing, but Barb is missing too, I heard mom and dad talking about it. I’m here for you too, you know.” I bite my lower lip and squeeze him tighter. 

As a big sister, my biggest fear is not being there for Erica and Lucas when they need me, especially if something is wrong. There is this pressure to be perfect and put together; to be a role model to them. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. To hear Lucas say that, makes me want to tell him what happened to me last night, but I decide against it. I need to keep him and everyone in this house safe.   

Lucas went downstairs after and I freshened up in the bathroom. When I made my way down to the kitchen with the trash bag and backpack in hand. I discreetly place it at the corner by the staircase behind the island, out of sight before making my presence known.  

“Good morning,” I greet, pulling my flannel shirt up on my shoulder. I must’ve taken longer than I realized because everyone was cleaning up. Erica stood beside Mom on a stool helping her pack the dishwasher while Lucas and Dad cleared the table.  

“Morning.” 

“Morning, sweetheart.” 

“What’s up with your hair?” Erica comments, scrunching her nose.

Leave it to Erica to point out every small detail. I was in a rush and didn’t have time to do my hair like I usually do, wetting my hands and combing my curls through with my fingers. I didn’t think I looked that bad. I frown patting my hair down. It did feel a little more voluminous than usual.  

“She looks fine.” Mom assures, giving Erica a look. My sister makes a face that says “if you say so”, dunking a plate in soapy water. 

“I made you a plate,” Dad says, pushing a bowl of yogurt and berries, on a plate with bacon and toast. I glance at the bacon on my plate, cringing and pick up the toast instead.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

I sit down scooping my spoon in my yogurt. My stomach gurgles. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten. It’s been a whirlwind of chaos that keeps getting more and more deep. Lucas scrapes leftover food into the trash handing Erica the plate to douse in soapy water to give to Mom who is packing the dishwasher. My eyes wander back and forth between everyone; at their normalcy. I miss when things were normal and I was going to rehearsals and hanging out with Nancy and Barb. Not figuring out where she went, what took her and how to kill it. 

I glance at Dad as he wipes down the table. I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon when he drove Lucas to the Wheeler’s house after the funeral. Since the funeral I am positive Mom has filled Dad in with what has been happening in the house the past couple of days. Hopefully not about Steve nor Eddie. Although, I don’t think so or else Dad would’ve said something or at least alluded to it. He is less confrontational than Mom. I can tell he’s being cautious and giving Lucas and I the space to process our losses, but I know he has questions. Dad looks at Mom and she nods her head. Dad sighs, wiping his hands in a dish towel. 

“Lucas and Erica can you excuse us? Your mom and I would like to talk to Diana alone.”

“You can talk to Diana, Dad. I promise you won’t even know I’m here.” Erica smiles, scooping up suds. Lucas rolls his eyes. 

Dad doesn’t say anything, waiting for Erica to leave the kitchen. Erica drops the act stepping down from the stool, not without grumbling to herself and Dad softly hits her head with the dishtowel before handing it to her to wipe her hands. Lucas looks at me wondering what’s going on following Erica into the living room. I shrug. Mom and Dad have never both wanted to talk to me about something and the yogurt in my mouth feels like lead. I chew slowly on a piece of strawberry eying my parents. Mom sits down beside Dad, both of them share a glance. 

“What’s wrong?” My stomach is in knots. Dad clears his throat. 

“We got a call last night from Officer Callahan,” he begins, looking me in my eyes so I know it’s serious and important. I stop eating. “He said they found Barb’s car at a bus station a few miles away.” I swallow staring at my Dad repeating what he said over and over again. Each time makes my blood boil. 

It doesn’t make sense. Barb’s car cannot be at a bus station miles away because Nancy and I saw it three blocks away from Steve’s house the day after we found out she was missing. A car does not magically disappear like that. Something’s wrong. I shake my head dropping my fork on my plate. 

“No.”

“Sweetheart, I know this is difficult to hear.” Mom starts. 

“No.” I slam my hands on the table. I don’t miss the way Mom flinches or the way Dad’s eye grow wide at my sudden outburst.  

“Diana.” Dad warns. 

“No, you don’t understand. Nancy and I saw her car the next day. It was in the exact same spot we parked the night before we went to Steve’s house!” 

Dad looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “Who is Steve and why were you in his house?” I clench my hands into fists grinding my teeth so hard they might crack. 

“It doesn’t matter who Steve is!” I shout. “What matters is that something is wrong. Barb didn’t run away. You know her. She’s not like that and she wouldn’t do that without telling Nancy and I!” 

Mom gives me a look that says I’m going to be calm and patient, but don’t push it. “Diana there’s no need to yell. We understand—” 

“No, you don’t! Nobody understands! Nobody cares!” My voice is shaky and I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I have never been so frustrated in my life. Barb is missing and everyone is acting like she left on her own. No. She was taken by that thing in the woods, but I can’t tell anyone because I’m still trying to wrap my head around what I saw and where I was. “Where are the search parties for Barb? The whole town was looking for Will, but what about Barb?” I cry. “What about Barb?”

The doorbell rings and I wipe my eyes suddenly feeling hyper aware of where I am and what I said. Mom and Dad stare at me, bewildered into silence. 

“I got it!” Lucas shouts. I hear grumbles between he and Erica probably fighting over who can get to the door first. 

“Diana!” Erica won the fight. “It’s Nancy!” 

I push my chair back, rushing to the corner by the staircase where I hid my backpack and the trash bag. Quickly wiping my tears with the back of my hand, I hoist my backpack over my shoulder, snatch the trash bag and march to the front door. I can hear chairs scraping against the floor and two sets of footsteps following after me. 

“Where are you going?” Mom asks. 

I excuse myself passing Lucas and Erica avoiding eye contact. Shame eats away at me for my outburst, but I ignore it pulling my shoulders back and standing tall. My whole family is gathered by the door watching me. 

“To hang out with Jonathan and Nancy again.” I sniff. “I’ll be home later.” I open the front door and Nancy is waiting patiently. Her lips spread to a smile, but it falters upon seeing my face and my family behind me.  

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair.” 

I stomp down the steps down my long driveway where Jonathan is parked on the street. I hear Nancy jogging to catch up with me. 

“Are you okay—what’s that?” 

“My clothes and shoes from last night.” 

“Oh.” I open the lid to the trash bin at the end of my driveway and drop the bag inside albeit a little rough. “Are you okay?” 

I let out a sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “My parents just told me that Officer Callahan called. They found Barb’s car at a bus station.” 

“What? How is that possible? We saw her car!” 

“I know,” I huff, marching to Jonathan’s car. “It doesn’t make any sense and no one is listening to us. Nobody cares! We’re truly on our own and I’m so…frustrated.” 

“We are alone and it sucks, but it’s better off with just us knowing what’s happening.” Nancy explains, opening the car door. “I have a theory on how we can kill that thing.” I open the back seat door climbing into the car. I return the half-smile Jonathan shows me before realizing he’s in the same clothes he wore last night. “I was looking through my biology textbook,” Nancy continues, before I can question him. “And this thing is a true predator and hunts alone like a bear. I also has a strong sense for blood like a shark. We can lure it to us with—” 

“Blood.” I finish, getting myself comfortable. “I was thinking about how it hunts too.” I push forward leaning on the centre console. “When we were in the forest, it didn’t notice us behind it when it was eating that deer which means it hunts based off pure instinct. It’s vicious in its hunting style. It waits for prey to draw near before it overwhelms it by ambushing. In order to catch it we need to think like it. Use its foraging behaviour against it.” Jonathan and Nancy stare at me processing my small rant. Jonathan looks thoroughly impressed and Nancy looks concerned. I rub my lips together, shrugging my shoulders. “I didn’t sleep either.” 

“It’s strongest in the woods, where it lives. We’ll have to draw it to us.” Nancy finishes. 

“Trap it. Kill it.” I confirm. 

“We know what to do, but how do we do it?” Jonathan asks, looking between us. The car is quiet for a minute while we all think. A baseball bat, a gun and a mallet isn’t enough to lure the thing to us. We need equipment and a contained space to trap it. I lean back grabbing my backpack.

“How much cash do we all have?” 

NEXT -> PART IV

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

[stuffingprize]

Why ship Agon & Yoichi? Finally the 3rd & final portion of my long AgoHiru meta post!! Ready to dive in full? Part 1 | Part 2

~~Part 3~~

WORLD YOUTH CUP - A smile worth 3 million

We've reached the final arc!! After the Christmas Bowl, Japan gets a chance at forming an all star high school line-up to play in America. Agon decides to join & we get to see him interact with a wider variety of characters, showing us more of his similarities to Yoichi as he's put in places where he must team up.

Violence, deceit & lack of patience over sentimental speeches #justgeniusdevilthings

Unsurprisingly, he still gives Ryokan lots of flack, refusing to acknowledge him throughout most of the arc despite everyone else agreeing that he is an essential asset to the team.

Truly unbelievable! Agon just can’t stand having Ryokan in the way of his time with Yoichi two years & one lost match later...

On Yoichi's end, however, he doesn't seem to be the type to hold on to grudges. Despite the hurt Agon put his friends through, Yoichi prefers being practical & can put it all aside if it means gaining an ally for his current goals. Ultimately, Agon is a useful player to have & we know that Yoichi is especially fond of those he finds “useful.”

Plus it's fun to see that Yoichi is practically the only person who can talk smack & laugh at Agon's face & get away with it (Mizumachi tried).

And because there are areas where he & Agon just get each other, Yoichi calls on him to do a Flying Dragon & Criss Cross together during their game against the American team, which they pull off perfectly despite never having played together before.

When Sena & Monta attempted their first Criss Cross against Teikoku, they fumbled the ball bad

Finally, Agon gets a chance to play with Yoichi, & it is absolutely of no surprise to me at all that THIS is the precise moment Agon begins to enjoy football!!!

Agon has smiled plenty on the field before, when his motivation was to “crush those without talent.” Agon has done the Flying Dragon before, with Ikkyu whose talent he praises & his twin whom he actually cares about. But here, his enjoyment is enough to make him laugh. By wordlessly being in sync with Yoichi. Teaming up with & having fun with Yoichi, perhaps like they used to before football.

In fact, Agon was so engrossed in this part of the game that he overlooks Mr. Don coming for him!

Shien (the Kid) is comparing Agon's experience in this moment to the time when he had finally admitted to something he truly wanted during the Hakushuu game!! An interesting insight

Lucky for Agon, Ryokan comes to his aid because winning this game is more important than their drama! (& because he's a sweetheart)

And after these successful series of plays where Agon finally shared the field with Yoichi & friends, we get this small development:

Is this tentatively the beginning of Agon letting go of his hurt & seeing Ryokan for what he truly is?

Although Ikkyu was usually his only exception when it came to adequate teammates, Agon would still say he was best if there were "22 players exactly like me." Here, Agon is opening up to the idea of finding value in other players. In Ryokan. In Yoichi. Even if he still sounds sore over it, it’s progress.

Yoichi influences Agon: +10 points! (Agon tempts teamwork.)

Despite this final arc's ups & downs, I enjoyed the small developments we got for Agon, as well as seeing Yoichi talk to him so casually. We begin to see how they treat each other differently now that they're teammates instead of opponents:

From weariness to fondness…

BONUS 100 POINTS: Agon & Yoichi enjoy playing football together!!

Before reaching the end, there’s still one more topic I’d like to talk about. Why has Yoichi, since so early on, piqued Agon’s interest anyway? It isn't about smarts or attraction, or deviousness. Well maybe just a little bit. Here's what I mean:

~

CRUSH THE UNTALENTED - Agon's Dissatisfaction

Above is Agon's officially stated no homo reasons for playing football back in vol 20 before Deimon vs Shinryuji. My interpretation being that Agon hates average try-hard players because his brother Unsui IS the average player who resigned himself, which really pisses Agon off because they’re twins & Agon feels his pain.

I personally think that if Unsui hadn't given up on himself so soon, then Agon wouldn't be twice on edge about average players who could be him. It's something that becomes evident in the World Youth Cup arc when he sees Unsui in Habashira & even taunts his brother over it.

And yet Yoichi who also fits the “average try-hard player” is someone Agon continues to be drawn to. We have this insight from Unsui himself during the Ojo vs Deimon rematch:

...Where Agon didn't follow up his usual "HUH??" with anything ridiculing Honjo's words. It's a rare moment that also happens between him & Yoichi back when they used to hang out:

These instances where Agon does not dismiss the speaker’s words as something ludicrous means that he’s in fact considering them as something valid! *gasp*

With this in mind, I think one reason Agon so carefully watches Yoichi is because he senses an answer he craves to his perpetual annoyance of average people. See, despite not being physically impressive, Yoichi continues to enthusiastically work towards his impossible goals seemingly undeterred by limitations. He “gets creative.”

Agon is a genius, they have a long history of them trying to read the other out, & yet he still says, "I've never understood this about you."

What is ambition all about? What is something worth struggling for? What good are teammates? I think Agon has always wanted to understand these differences between himself & Yoichi.

Yoichi influences Agon: +10000 points! (Agon’s attitude toward life football changes.)

~

AND TOUCHDOWN.. or is it? - The Undefeated Saikyodai Wizards

By now, I hope I've proven that Agon is continually drawn to & influenced by Yoichi & that it largely dictates many of his actions—whether it's to resist & oppose him or simply follow him into whatever interests him next. So it is only natural that Agon would follow Yoichi into college.

Well, it probably helped that Yoichi intentionally chose a different college from Ryokan this time around (lol).

These two devious men who had once teamed up to frame & take advantage of others, then threw each other out, are finally now fighting together for good after six years of back & forth drama..!

And thanks to the recent 21st Anniversary of the series, a Special chapter was published which revealed Saikyo College as the then Undefeated Champions. However, Sena Kobayakawa has joined the fray & the plot revolves around a chance for either Yoichi or Sena to join the NFL. The deciding factor being which team wins—Saikyo or Enma.

Back at the World Youtch Cup arc, Agon heard from Yoichi himself how badly he wanted to join the NFL. With this knowledge in mind, it’s safe to say that Agon not only is now playing because he wants to, but this game in particular because victory means Yoichi's new dream can come true!!

Similar to Gao, Agon once played football to destroy Yoichi's dreams. But now, it’s the opposite!

You see, all along, what Agon wanted was to get himself in the Devil’s sights. What he hated Ryokan for (taking Yoichi through football), what he hated Sena for (being Yoichi’s ace), was now his alone. Agon is the trump card Yoichi can count on..! 

Such intense focus!! Agon as Saikyo College's Ultimate Player

Like we saw when they played against the Americans, Yoichi & Agon don’t need explicit instruction from each other. Their compatibility carries on. Wordlessly communicating~~~

Agon-speak for Of course I read you, honey.

With Agon becoming a serious athlete who trains & is now happily playing alongside Yoichi Hiruma, it’s no wonder that their team holds the title of Champions so far…!!

Yoichi influences Agon: +20 points! (Agon attends Saikyo College. Agon plays for the sake of Yoichi’s dream)

>>Yoichi influences Agon, FINAL COUNT: OVER 9 THOUSAND…!!!!!!!

AND THUS CONCLUDETH THEIR GET-TOGETHER LOVE STORY!!!

Standing together like this, they make up the titular #21!

Thank you for reading 🏈

[rosewaterandivy]

I love your writing style and after stalking your blog I found out that you studied English. Got any writing advice for someone who's still trying to figure out and develop their own style? I feel like I have so many ideas but the execution is 👎

Hello sweet thing! 🥰 Thanks for reading and a quick disclaimer before I dive in here: I don’t really even understand my own process/style yet and that is perfectly fine. I think it’s important to take risks in writing to develop skills and see what vibes with you and what doesn’t. So, while I have two degrees in English, I’ve never taken a creative writing class— just wanna get that out there. Now, onto the advice!

Read. Read often and voraciously. This method is tried and true for a reason, and that’s because it works. When I’m lacking in the inspiration department, I read poetry, novels, non-fiction, works by other writers in the community, maybe do a deep-dive with some lyrical analysis— if you know, you know. Seeking out other voices to inspire and teach is paramount.

(Continued under the cut)

To grow as a writer (or, really as a person), you can’t exist in your own silo. You need to engage with other stories. On some level, you should be listening to other’s voices and studying their styles. Otherwise, you’ll stunt your development as a writer. You could also, inadvertently, reinforce bad writing habits, if you’re not expanding your horizons by consuming other author’s works.

And this conversation has been making its run in the community as well as my corner of academia, but I’d be remiss not to touch on it here: there is no such thing as originality in literature. Everything from the Carolingian Cycle to Homeric Hymns to tropes, etc. has already been said and done. But what matters here, truly, is how you can put your spin on something. Have soulmate AUs been done to death? Yes. Is that gonna stop me? Hell to the no! I love that shit, of course I want to engage with that trope and see what I can do with it.

Rhythm. Cadence, flow, whatever you call it— this is crucial to me as a writer and academic. And honestly? I’m still figuring this one out for myself. I tend to talk or ramble as I write, mostly to test out dialogue for how it sounds but also as an editing trick. I tell my students all the time, read your work out loud before assuming it’s all said and done! You’d be amazed at how many things you’ll catch by stumbling over words and phrases that the eye would skip over.

I think a lot of this comes from patterns I’ve picked up from reading. Because I read and listen to other author’s voices and styles, I’m more equipped to see mistakes in my own syntax and voice because I’ve diversified my exposure to other styles of sentence structure, etc. So, yes, this does go back to reading and finding other voices— but it truly does help!

Feel it out. First and foremost, I am a chaotic writer— my GDrive is a mess and I can’t even imagine how many WIPs I have that are just a single sentence or phrase at this point. But everyone has to start somewhere, and for most of us, that takes the form of a sentence, phrase, or occasionally, a single word.

I just kind of just go for it in the docs, to be honest. I’ll get frustrated, walk away, delete (keep a doc designated as a graveyard/junkyard for this purpose, trust me!), get distracted, etc. But that’s okay and to be expected with the creative process. Flow can’t happen without a little resistance at first.

Play with syntax. Would a longer sentence be more meaningful here? Shorter? What about repetition? Think about word choice as well— identify the tone and mood you want to project.

Word Choice. Specific words are used for a calculated focus or effect— think about it. Would you want to hear the smacking of lips from a few tables over on a first date? Or hear the sounds of your roommate going to town on an apple while you’re putting the moves on that hottie from said first date?

Readers can feel the significance and weight of a word, how much space it occupies in a sentence: they have real influence. It’s not just morphemes and phonemes and phonetics; words project experience and sensation, so it’s important to tie your words to your intent or the mood you’re attempting to create.

If I’m writing an intimate scene, I’m not going to use abrasive words that will jar the reader from the tone I’m working so hard to craft. I’ll choose soft words, immersive words — a little repetition, as a treat, so we can sink more gently into the scene. Mention light, texture, employ the softness the surrounds the characters and kinesthetic imagery (imagery describing the actions or movements of the body), but above all, keep it soft.

Synonyms are a wonderful thing! Have a word that’s too clunky for that specific phrase? Find a shorter one; too harsh, find a gentler one; so on and so forth.

This is where reading other stories will help (she says, circling back to point 1). Inevitably, it will diversify your personal vocabularly and your ability to string words together in sentences. The tricks I’ve absorbed by just reading? Innumerous, incalculable and lucky for me, they’re instinct by now.

Format. What’s the goal? If the scene is action heavy, keep the sentences short. Urgent. Focus on the senses we should be aware of in a fight scene. Looking for something more intimate? Stretch things out, suspend time and let people ease into the moment gently.

Short sentences can narrow your focus; longer sentences, the ones that ebb and flow and gather multiple senses, those are some of my favorites— so enriching and immersive.

What view is most important in a given scene? Would a character be more focused on the feel of their beloved’s skin against theirs or the how the hurt reflects in their eyes?

Synesthesia. Ah, yes, my favorite. Synesthasia is a technique adopted by writers to present ideas, characters, or places in such a manner that they appeal to more than one sense, like hearing, sight, smell, and touch at a given time. I am guilty of using this whenever I possibly can because I think being able to embody a scene is crucial to effective writing.

Sensory experience is something that helps me find my way in a narrative. It allows me to settle in. Think about the various qualities of differing sensory experiences, and their consequence. Every sense doesn’t need to be included, just because you can does not mean you should.

Plus, it’s quite convenient for implying intimacy. A character who notices that another character smells of bergamot, cinnamon, or home accomplishes a lot of things in a few words. It immerses the reader in the scene in a very real way; it’s a quick, easy avenue into establishing a history and a relationship between the two characters; and it implies something deeper than a passing acquaintance/platonic interest.

But, I’m also an olfactory snob, so what do I know!

Oof, yeesh, sorry for the ramble here! I think the truth of it is this: I don’t make a lot of these choices consciously. I get stuck somewhere and feel my way around until I can make sense of it again, laying puzzle pieces or clues that I hope others will be able to find when they read it.

I guess my main advice is to read. Read often and well, experience other voices and styles, go outside your comfort zone! If you lock yourself away in that silo or echo chamber, you’ll only reinforce one style or approach— you’ll miss out on so much beauty and creative experiences that the world has to offer!

To close, I’m going to list and tag a few works and authors I’ve found to be instrumental in my reading and writing experience.

Best of luck anon!

QuinAnderson’s The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut Fic

@loveshotzz , @carolmunson, @jo-harrington, @wroteclassicaly , @stevenose , @bettyfrommars (and I’m sure I’m forgetting some at this moment!! I’m sorry 😩) have their own special way of weaving a story, breathing emotion and life into it.

My fic rec tag

Poetry:

Crush by Richard Siken

Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Diaz

Night Sky With Exit Wounds & Time Is A Mother by Ocean Vuong

The works of Louise Gluck, Elizabeth Bishop, Gloria Anzaldua, Slyvia Plath, Rilke, Ilya Kaminsky, and Jeanette Winslterson

Movies:

In the Mood for Love

Y tu mamá también

Moonlight

Atonement

[pjsk-writin]

HELLO HELLO, OMG I SAW THE STRAY CAT POST I LOVE IT <3333!! 💮 anon here btw :DDD also how are you?? bro the second i saw the stray cat post i immediately loved it omg aisufhgskydghjksgb anyways i have another request, if it's already requested or if you can't do it, its fine, dw so i have been thinking, maybe a reader with like.. an addiction to scratching the scabs they have?? idk i have the same problem here. maybe that reader paired up with the pjsk boys idk anymore

HIII omg I'm so happy u loved it !! and just like me fr it's a problem FBKSJG- hope u like this !! <3

♡ SCABS - Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi, Tsukasa Tenma and Rui Kamishiro x Reader

Akito:

He may not be good at affectionate words, but do you know what Akito is good at? Passive aggressive actions and words-

He honestly didn't think much of you scratching your scabs when he first met you, just finding it to be a weird habit

But once the two of you start dating? Oh hell no. He is not going to be dating someone who is constantly bleeding-

You have a habit of picking your scabs? Congrats, you've given him the habit of smacking your hand away from your scabs and going "Babe no-"

He develops a weird sixth sense for it too. You could be standing and idly scratching your scabs and he appears out of nowhere to swat at your hands

Eventually he resorts to just holding your hands. It stops you from scratching, but it definitely embarrassed him the first time he did it without warning-

Toya:

Toya absolutely hates the sight of someone he loves literally bleeding, so if course it makes him feel anxious-

The first time he sees you picking your scabs, whether you are dating or not, he's like, "No?? Why are you doing that?? That's not good??"

He doesn't really know how to stop you beside looking up why picking scabs is bad and just showing you the results

He also develops a sixth sense to the fact, just immediately appearing beside you and giving you the most concerned look he can possibly give-

He brings you a lot of his arcade machine winnings with the hope that having something other than your scabs to scratch at (it's up to you if it works or not)

He ends up carrying bandaids around just because of your habit. He'll see that you're scratching and just sigh, taking your hands away before putting a bandaid on.

Tsukasa:

Tsukasa is more than used to seeing out of the ordinary things, which is why seeing you pick your scabs doesn't register for him at first

He'll watch you scratching your scabs and just take it as one of your quirks and leave it be

...At least, he does so until he sees you bleeding because of it

He'll go full blown panic mode, asking the universe why his dearest co-star is bleeding. How could the universe dare to do this to you??

You have to explain that it just happens because of you scratching your scabs, and he takes a moment to process it before shaking his head at you. "This cannot stand any more!"

He now checks up on you, immediately shoving some sort of game or toy into your hands anytime he notices you scratching your scabs. And it...Kind of works?-

Rui:

If we're being honest here, Rui used to do the same thing. He's grown out of it, replacing the habit with his focus on experiments, but it does mean he isn't phased at first-

He'll see you scratching your scabs and just nod in mutual understanding. He understood the weird compulsion to do so-

He only decides to step in once someone, probably Nene, reminds him that it's actually quite bad for you-

He tries to talk you out of it, explain that scratching your scabs is really bad in the long term. His talking doesn't help-

He probably tries to give you affection then, constantly hugging you from behind or holding your hand in his. He does it because he wants to fluster you, but it's also an effective method for getting you to stop

If all else fails, he makes a little droid that gently slaps you any time it senses you're scratching. Don't ask when he had the time or resources to make it-