#very giggly with clearly no idea who they’re speaking to

[mrs-jamesbbarnes]

Ben Barnes said the child snatcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is the most scary villain and OH MY GOD. HE IS 100% CORRECT. I haven’t seen that movie in more than ten years and yet I felt a jolt of horror when he said that because I REMEMBERED.

[stsgluver]

gojo hours (aka 24/7) is so real!!!! as for prompts i have been floating around with this but secret dating but they’re 100% so obviou about it. they also have the audacity to act surprised when they are accused of dating (by students or friends)

the idea was inspired by a prompt i saw with “let’s compare hands for science.” / “what?” / “it’s not like we haven’t done anything worse.”

HE WOULDN'T EVEN TRY TO BE SUBTLE.

you were both teachers at tokyo, having met as students so you'd known each other well over a decade.

when you were teenagers it was a very much will-they-won't-they relationship and you were both so so close to it being the real thing... but then toji fushiguro happened and haibara died and then suguru left to kill non-sorcerers and gojo isolated himself to the point where the two of you would barely say a greeting to each other when in passing.

it wasn't till you came back to be a teacher (you'd left tokyo high to work as a sorcerer independently for six years after graduation) that you two began to reconnect.

and it wasn't till about twelve months prior to the present that you had finally agreed to go on a date with him.

it was an unspoken agreement to keep the relationship under wraps. gojo was terrified the second he acknowledged you to the jujutsu world he'd lose you and you wanted people to respect you for your skills as a grade one sorcerer and not be reduced to a special grade's side piece.

you hadn't out right said it was secret but neither of you were jumping to tell anyone you were official.

gojo, however, had slipped back into old habits very quickly and, even before the two of you had started your secret escapades, your students and friends around you were suspicious. anyone with a pair of eyes could see how much gojo doted on you.

he brought you pastries, stayed back with you after class to clear rooms up, and was the first to have a go at the higher-ups whenever they'd blindside you and send you on a mission too difficult for one sorcerer alone (even they were getting suspicious of your relationship and wanted to see how far he'd go for you).

yuji and nobara had been at jujutsu high for two weeks before they met you. the two plus megumi had left class in search of gojo when they'd come across him speaking to you.

there was mere inches between the two of you. satoru had even lifted off his blindfold to speak to you, head tilted slightly with his lips tilted into a smirk as you ranted about the latest instant that the higher ups had managed to piss you off.

"is that gojo-sensei's girlfriend?" yuji had asked megumi, him and nobara sharing suspicious glances.

"no. she's the second year's teacher.”

"but they're close-close.”

“i know.”

"are you sure they’re not dating?”

megumi sighed. “i don’t care. go ask them.”

so he did.

yuji’s pink flop of hair appeared between the two of you, causing you to jump and take a step back from satoru to accommodate for the student. "are you two dating?"

"hi- what- no, us?" you stammered out, pointing between yourself and satoru as you adamantly shook your head.

"yuji!” satoru wrapped one arm around the boy’s shoulders and one arm around yours, “this is yn!"

he didn’t deny the question.

AND THE COMPARING HAND SIZES?

gojo does it regularly. any chance he can get.

he love love loves your height difference.

he's 6'3 so being taller than everyone isn’t unusual for him but something about being taller than you made him giggly.

the two of you had gone to the park with the first years for well deserved ice cream (kikufuku for gojo), and when yuji and nobara begin arguing over who has the largest pinky finger, gojo found it to be the perfect opportunity to compare your own fingers.

"let's compare hands for science," satoru would wriggle his eyebrow at you, pulling back the sleeve of his uniform jacket to clearly present you his hand (and also give you a glimpse of his toned forearm that he knows you love).

you rolled your eyes, glancing to the three students that were only metres away from you doing the same thing.

"what? right now?"

"it's just comparing hand sizes,” satoru dismissed before a mischievous look appeared on his delicate features. he bent down to your height, the hairs on the back of your neck lifting as he whispered, “plus it's not like we haven't done anything worse in pub-"

"megumi's watching us.” you cleared your throat, trying to keep your composure and not make it obvious the you’re affected by his indirect recounts of particular times together.

gojo grinned, standing up tall and grabbing your wrist absentmindedly to compare sizes despite your protests. “he asked me yesterday if i liked you again.”

"what did you say?” your hand was dwarfed by his, and it always shocked you how smooth his skin felt against yours despite the years and years of fighting against curses.

satoru interlocked your fingers and pressed a soft kiss between your knuckles. “that i loved you, of course.”

[cinnamonest]

Albedo idol girl darling thoughts M A N I F E S T E D

----------

Well, to be entirely honest, he thinks the whole idol thing is a little dumb.

For someone like him, at least. He's a PhD student in his final semester, lots of work to be done and all that. So, you know, he's a responsible, accomplished adult. Not the kind of person who gets into "that stuff," as he calls it in his head.

Nor does he even know how he encountered it... He just takes the occasional break from work to mindlessly open whatever app first pops into his vision and scroll through the feed. He's never watched anything like it in his life, so he's not exactly sure why he gets recommended some idol girl thing, and even less sure why he taps it without really thinking. Probably one of those videos that gets recommended to everyone. Well, can't be that, it doesn't have that many views... Probably loosely connected to some video game he's searched before or something. He's familiar with idols and what they are, and the subculture surrounding them, but he's never really cared about it.

Honestly, it's kinda pathetic that a bunch of grown adult men get so obsessed over these girls, he thinks as he watches. He's seen the type. Lonely, asocial dudes, most definitely virgins whose only female attention in their entire life is their mother, well into adulthood with no real social group to speak of.

...Not that he's much better off, but he hasn't quite sunk down to their level. The only reason he doesn't talk to people much is because they're busy, and he's even busier. He managed to make a few friends in undergrad years. Well, study partners who mooched off his notes since he was one of the top students, but same idea. They were people he spoke to more than once, which is what constitutes a friend, right? And for the record, one time in high school a girl in his class said she liked his hair. He hasn't changed the way he wears it since. Whenever he's sad, he thinks about that compliment from 10+ years ago, and it makes him feel a little better. But now, he's constantly slammed with work and research.

And his acquaintances are also all busy. He sees notifications every now and then from social media he never checks. Everyone is getting married at this stage in life, both friends and even other PhD students in his department. Not that he's ever been invited to a wedding, he just overhears a lot of conversations, sees notifications of posts. And he will too, eventually. He just has to finish up his degree, and then... Meet a girl. Well, that's actually the second step, step one would be finding out how to go about meeting a girl. He's... Never done it before. Probably does not happen sitting in the research lab at 11:30 pm on YouTube. He's talked to one of the other PhD students who's a girl before. And only stutters sometimes. He was even able to look her in the face while he talked to her once. That's a good start.

Ok, so maybe he is a little bit pathetic, but not as bad as... These guys. Reading the comments of the video actually make him feel a little better about himself, because frankly, they're kinda wild. The worship and fawning over girls is one thing, but they even have timestamps referring to various members like "she's super cute here!" Or "you can kinda see her thigh at 3:12!" Etc etc. Yeesh, creepy. And they get into comment fights over who is the best member, as if it even matters. It's fascinating in a human-social-experiment sort of way, the manifestation of a subculture and how humans interact with each other. On and on it goes, hundreds of commenters. He pays more attention to the comments than the actual video, but the song is kinda catchy in that annoying sort of way, and the girls are cute, just kinda... The typical thing he'd expect from idol groups. But the building will close soon, so he taps back to home screen and swipes the app closed.

Unfortunately, the algorithm remembers.

And he's not certain why he clicks the next one either, the following day. The lunch breaks he takes are usually pretty rushed. Not that he has specific class times at his level of academia, but he likes to get his work done. He intentionally eats either a bit later or earlier than the lunch crowd to avoid crowds and interactions. Finds a nice secluded little table tucked away. So when he opens it back up, what do you know, several more videos get recommended. It's absent minded when he taps on one, the kind of numb-brained entertainment every modern person indulges in, videos you wouldn't really be interested in but just watch because they're there.

Ok, this is really creepy. These dudes have made compilation videos of close ups of each specific girl. It's the same group as the video he saw before, same little lewd costumes. Admittedly the girls are kinda cute. He can kinda understand the appeal. But he's not like those guys, he would never become like, obsessed with them.

The song is actually really catchy. The kind of mindlessly addictive, repetitive pop music that's the same four chords over and over, each song is so similar you can't really tell them apart, but it gets stuck in your head anyway. This group has... nine members. Who needs that many singers in one group? It's not like a band or anything, they all just sing and do their little choreography. Guess that's a form of talent, even though he doesn't really get it.

Some of the groups he sees in recommended videos are cute and wholesome, and while this group is cute too, there's a very... Blatantly intentional lewdness to their poses and costumes. A hypersexualized sort of cuteness. Clearly marketed at lonely losers who have nothing better to do with their time than obsess over a girl who will never even know they exist.

He taps another video.

So many compilations, yikes. He has to give the guys credit, they're insanely loyal to the individual member that they decide to fixate on. Oh, and they even make official figurines and posters for these girls, that's... Something.

And a few days later he can kinda recognize the girls. They have color themes, you know, identical costumes except each girl's is a different color. This lead one is red, this main backup is blue, etc etc. Lots of bright colors. Kinda hurts his eyes to be honest.

And he's seen compilations of every girl except... The pink one. The pink one is always kinda off to the side. Well, these groups do have their favoritism, there's apparently one or two lead singers in all of the major idol groups, and the rest are basically backups and dancers. Still, a lot of dudes get super devoted to the non-main girls. So yeah, he's never seen a compilation for the pink one... He can't always exactly remember which one is which but now he's seen enough to know the other girls' names. He's not sure what hers is though. So he googles it and gets the name.

Wonder why she doesn't have as many videos...? Oh, it's because she's the newest member. Only been around a few months. There's... A whole board dedicated to the group, which he's getting this information from. Wow, pathetic. What kind of person spends their free time browsing a forum for an idol group? Well, he's just doing it to find information, not for fun or anything. He was just curious. Now he knows and he can forget about it and never look at anything related to them again... after he types her name and group name into the YouTube search bar and checks the results out, that is.

Oh, so they do have some compilations for her, just not many. "(Name) thigh compilation." Fuck, these people have no limits to how creepy and pathetic they can get, he thinks... as he watches the video. Ok, admittedly there are some good thigh shots there. There's a comment. "At 4:26 you can see her panties." Pathetic. They're not wrong though. Just to be sure, you see, he tapped the timestamp, and you can, in fact, see them. Stripes. Cute.

But he still has to do his work. Can't get too invested in watching mindless videos all day. He's got a thesis to work on.

That makes him curious, though, he thinks as he goes about his research. Do these girls go to school? Do they like, skip college, or do they join some kind of performing arts school or...? So he googles it. He can remember the pink one's name now, so he just finds her Wikipedia page. Oh, so she joined right out of high school and has been in various groups ever since.

Wait, various groups? So she has more groups she's been in? What are those? Before he typed her name into the search along with the group name, but if he just searches her name he gets... A lot more content from earlier years. Huh. Didn't know some of them did group-hopping like that.

Still, no education. Must be all smiles and body and no brains. Guess that's all you really need. Yeah, looking at that whole act they do... All giggly and childish and lewd... She's probably not too bright. At least she's pretty and sings nice. And the thighs are rather good. Smooth looking. They have a sort of jiggle when she jumps up and down on stage. The thigh highs they make those girls wear have that nice little dip where the skin is compressed by the fabric. Like... right there at that closeup. He takes a screenshot.

It's readily available, he's already seen the video and knows the best parts, whereas searching for porn would take time. The sooner he can get the daily stress relief out of the way the sooner he can work on his thesis. So this way is faster. That's why he's jerking off to the thigh video and not taking the time to look for porn. Plus, it makes him cum faster. Which it probably shouldn't since it's just thighs, but... Probably has something to do with the tease of it all maybe. That makes sense.

Or maybe it's that cute little giggle he can hear at some parts. She smiles and jumps and spins and laughs.

...It makes him wonder what she'd look like crying. Scared. Whimpering. Covered in bruises and bite marks. The contrast between that state and the one on the screen. The process and the things he could do to get her from one to the other. Yeah, he realizes, it's that thought, rather than the happy giggling on video or tease aspect, that makes him cum.

He's aware that his... tastes... are a little on the fucked up side, but hey, there's plenty of bastards out there far worse than him.

One day he discovers she has social media platforms. He... Doesn't really have any. He doesn't have Twitter or Instagram or any of that but... He downloads the app and makes an account for each. Just to follow her. Ooh, they even have the option to get a notification every time she posts... That's good. Otherwise he might check too frequently. He sets a special sound effect for notifications for her socials. The first few times, you see, he would get super excited when his phone went off, only to be disappointed when it was just a work email. Thus, he made the separate sounds.

He wouldn't say he has a favorite, that sounds really cringey you know? He just... Likes her more than the others. ...Dammit, that's what a favorite is. Ok, maybe he has a favorite, that's not that bad. He's not obsessed. He hasn't bought any merchandise at all or anything, especially not member-specific merchandise. Which they do have, because he visited the store page for a while and spent all his willpower physically restraining himself from buying something. It's not that he's biased, he just thinks she's objectively better than the rest of the group. Which can be backed up with evidence, anyone with eyes could tell by watching the performances.

As to what specifically draws him to her... he's not certain, to be honest. Maybe it's because she's the least appreciated out of the group, new and all. The less popular one. Or maybe her personality... She seems so sweet, even though he knows it's probably just an act for the fans. Or maybe just those thighs. That's also a valid possibility.

He cracks and buys some of the merchandise. Only about $300 worth. But honestly, he gets more invested into just printing out pictures of you. Pasting them onto the wall above his desktop. It keeps him going when the nights are hard.

But he refrains from ever commenting on anything. Some of these losers are just... so embarrassing, he can't stomach the thought of being associated, even if it's just an anonymous comment online. It's still pretty... Distasteful. He still browses the boards every day. You're his lock screen now. And home screen. And also your solo is his ringtone. He only sets his phone on sound when he's alone at home, though, when he's at work he puts it on vibrate. He... doesn't want anyone hearing that. No offense. He has some appropriate amount of shame, unlike the other bastards.

And the girls probably know that most of their fans are these kind of loser men, right? She'd probably be surprised someone nearly graduating with a chemistry doctorate is sitting around watching these dumb videos. Is that more or less pathetic? He thinks less, hopefully.

In fact, the other fans kind of irritate him. They're really cringy and annoying and it gives him secondhand embarrassment. And something... Deeper. Something about seeing the comments upsets him on a visceral level. It's gross. Sure, he's grateful for the dudes who sit around and make a list of timestamps for upskirt shots and the like, but... It kinda bothers him, feeling like there's some other dude out there sitting around, watching these long videos with his gross eyes and recording the times of shots that get him off. It feels gross. But more like... A violation against you. Sure, your group is very blatantly sexualized and intentionally risque in clothing but... Still, it feels wrong for someone to go through and get to see all of that.

Well, someone else. It's ok for him, since he's not a gross degenerate like the rest of them. He does genuinely see himself as... Above them. You know how like, back in the day, how the nobles used to sit around and watch plays from the far back while the peasants gathered around the stage? It's like that. He's not a gross loser or a NEET or anything like that. He's got a life. Well... Not a social life, but he's doing better than them, at least he has a degree, and soon a higher degree, and a job. He has a lot of things they don't. Basic hygiene. Student loan debt. And uh... Well, he's probably more pleasant to interact with, at least he's not gonna be frothing at the mouth like an animal if he saw you in real life. He would certainly freeze up, but that's preferable, isn't it?

And one day there's a video circulating in the idol community - not that he's a part of it or anything, he just keeps getting the dumb videos and watching them for mindless entertainment - where some girl group had an attempted kidnapping. Not her group, but some other group. The video has gone viral. Some dude tried to rush the stage and pull one of the girls away. Apparently the cops found he had an obsession with her.

What an idiot. If you're gonna kidnap someone, put some effort in, jeez. It's not hard to figure out how to do it right.

If that were him, he wouldn't be that stupid, he'd just look for an interval where she's alone. They have those solo or breakout group songs where some of the girls are backstage, just get her then. Memorize the concert schedule, wear something over your face, chloroform her, and stuff her into something and walk right out. Easy.

....

He catches himself in the thought and realizes that might have been a bit creepy, but he was just thinking in terms of hypotheticals. If he was the kind of crazy to do that, that's what he'd do, that's all.

He's always enjoyed entertaining strategic thoughts, really. He's had a couple fantasies about how he would commit murders of this or that person before, and he's never murdered anyone, so thoughts don't lead to actions. He just... Really doesn't like those people, and the fantasies help him... Deal with it. He just likes to strategize about methods, and how he'd get away with it... Stuff like that. Actually, he's convinced it's a very normal thing, but no one wants to admit it. Everyone has detailed murder fantasies every now and then.

Which is why this is no different. He's just strategizing because it's fun. He has no intentions of doing anything for real. He just plans out the details like a game. And tells himself to just never think about it again.

Until one specific night that he's staring down at his screen. Lying in bed. He should be asleep, he needs to be up early tomorrow but... He's just checking to be sure he's reading this correctly. You're coming to his town? He wouldn't think so, since it's not too big, just your average college town. But still, you'll be right here, right in his general vicinity, not far away at all.

Not that he'd ever actually go to such an event. No way. He hates crowds with a passion. He hates loud environments even more. A concert is like his worst nightmare. Besides, knowing the general audience of your group, it'll be a bunch of sweaty NEET dudes who haven't showered in a month and haven't crawled out of their house in even longer. No thank you.

But.

That's when the thought pops back up. It's been a few months since that night he had that strategizing fantasy, and, well, he tried to forget it but... It kinda lingered in the back of his mind. And now it's back in full force.

He shrugs the idea off. It's crazy. He'd never actually do something like that. It was just a fantasy.

...But he could get away with it if he wanted to.

He's not scared or anything, no, he's confident in his strategizing. He knows he could. Totally. It's foolproof. There's no need to carry it out to know that, besides, what would he even do with you?

Well, he's pretty certain he does know what he would do with you. He's watched that thigh video maybe a hundred times now. And even if he won't admit it, he's jerked off to the exact same fantasy for like, several months.

He doesn't really... Think about it. Just kind of slips into subconscious actions. Autopilot. One click and well, there goes $400 on an amp case. His eyes gaze over the dimensions... And then there's your height on the Wikipedia page... Yeah... That should work. He gets it sent to the address a few doors down just in case, and snatches it from in front of their door, but he finds himself backpedaling. What the hell is he doing? He would never actually go through with this, what a waste of money... But he still opens it. Sets it beside his front door. Tests the wheels to make sure they work.

He knows how to make chloroform. He doesn't need YouTube tutorials (unlike a certain someone else), he knows exactly how to do it, even alternate methods besides the usual acetone and bleach combination - so long as you end up with the same chemical makeup, it's all the same. He just goes with the traditional way though... Doesn't really know why he does it. Just mutters as he stares down at the concoction wondering why he wasted his time... But he pauses before pouring it down the sink, and instead puts it in a container and keeps it on the counter. Your weight is on Wikipedia too. Taking into account your height and weight you would need about... Yeah, a very specific amount to knock you out for about three hours.

The concert day draws closer and closer and he can't sleep very well. His mind keeps running what-ifs. Just, hypothetically, what if he did go through with it? What then? What would he do long term? How would that all work out?

Well, you'd probably hate him for a while, right? But that changes. Stockholm syndrome sets in. He would know, he had to take Psych 101 back in undergrad, and the professor talked about it for a full 10 minutes, so he's basically an expert. It's been like, 7 years since then, but he still kinda remembers it. He remembers that it's supposed to set in at about 2 weeks, and solidify with time. If the captor is nice, that is, which he totally would be. ...Maybe not in bed, but most of the time. He would be nice to you, and you would start to like him. Besides, they said Stockholm syndrome set in faster if the abductor has good qualities, so, he could also reason with you, remind you that you're lucky you got abducted by someone with money - or, well, he will have money once he graduates! - and isn't some ugly gross slob. He's clean and neat. Sorta... He'll clean up all those dishes that have been sitting there a few days now, pick up all those clothes off the floor... Ok, now he's clean and neat. And, uh, what else would girls care about... He's smart. He's pretty sure he can say that with confidence, if nothing else.

Ok, so, it would work. He could... Keep you kinda... Tied up here... If you started complying within that two week period, he could get you up and walking before atrophy set in. You'd probably have to get used to the lifestyle... Right now he's kinda on a budget, but, he can get you things to keep you occupied... And so, yeah, it could work. It's simple, just keep you with him and isolated for a few weeks and uh, you'll transform into some kind of hypersexual obedient cumslut and never want to leave. That's... How Stockholm syndrome works right? Maybe he should have paid more attention in that class... Oh well. He never liked psychology.

So the day draws nearer and nearer and he starts really getting into the right... Headspace. It's a sort of manic state that he's in. Operating without really thinking, all inhibitions removed by simply refusing to think about it. He lets the subconscious take over and do all these little things to prepare, until finally that day is tomorrow. And then he kinda snaps back to full awareness and questions, again, what the hell is he doing? He can't just... Kidnap a person! Normal people don't do that... It's illegal, he'll get caught, it'll ruin his life and....

What life does he really have to ruin?

That's the thought that sort of solidifies the decision. He realizes why he's even on this path in the first place. Sure he's got a lot of academic accomplishments, but his life is... Rather empty. He doesn't really have anyone. Maybe that's why he's slowly become... Consumed by this obsession that yes, he's now willing to admit to himself is indeed an obsession. It's kinda slowly taken over his everyday life without him even noticing it was happening. He's... Kinda miserable. And very lonely. And... If nothing else... This one girl makes him feel kinda happy.

... Which is why he's going to go through with it.

And he slips back into autopilot, ends up standing outside the building. It's every bit as loud and headache-inducing as he knew it would be. Ugh. He can't wait to get out of here. If this doesn't work, well, he'll be forced to turn around. The plan is a very simple one, actually... Act like he's supposed to be there. And he does. Dresses in all black like stage technicians do, dragging his big amp case behind him, holding a bunch of cords from random things he grabbed in his house, and tries not to look nervous, keeps a neutral face and walks straight forward and... He slides right in. The security guards off to the side don't even bat an eye.

And then he has a moment of "well, I didn't expect to get this far." Pauses. So uh... what now? Well, probably should find you first. He memorized the setlist, so he knows when you'll be off... And alone. Right now there should be three of the girls backstage. It's pretty easy to find where you are, but he's paranoid that the amp case is too loud as he's dragging it around. It's necessary, though. And then, finally, he stumbles upon the room... Opens the door, half expecting to be immediately stopped, but... He can just kinda waltz right in here, some open backroom, a person here or there coming through, a lady that looks like a makeup artist doing something over there, and an actual, real tech guy over there... And over to the far back corner... Oh. That's you. He takes a moment to revel in the sight, unable to move or even breathe, and has to mentally prepare himself before moving forward. He's... Not sure exactly what to do at this point... It's kind of perfect, to be honest, there's no one around you, and you're right out of sight, where he could turn the corner and not be seen. But he's not sure how to... Approach? He thinks about it as he walks, but again, autopilot is on in his brain and he's just numbly walking forward. Does he just... Keep walking until he's right at you and just... Or...?

And a miracle happens. You hear someone coming and you turn and smile and ask are you the tech guy here to fix my mic? You point to the little microphone attached to your face. They told you someone would be coming to fix it before your next song. You presume that's him, since he's dressed in all black like all the other stage techs. He hesitates a moment, wide eyed, but then nods. Yeah, that's him, he says. His voice cracks when he says it. It's kinda cute.

You smile at him. It's wide and sweet and genuine and it almost makes him pass out on the spot. He has to swallow for a second before continuing.

But, uh, he can't do it right here he says, because fiddling with it could disrupt the uh, frequencies, cause that really shrill sound you hear sometimes. So, um, come over this way a sec, over in this dark corner of the studio conveniently out of the view of all people and security cameras. You don't know how any of that stuff works, so you trust him, it's his job after all. So you get up and straighten your little skirt out - wow those are even more revealing in person - and walk over it the dark corner where he's waiting and... it's the last thing you remember.

He does a quick look left and right to ensure no one saw you collapse in his arms, but sure enough, this area is empty. You fit into the amp case with ease. Just curl your body up and pop the lid on. Wait, can you... breathe in there? Well, it won't take long to get outside. He just rolls the case right out the door, right past the guards again, and no one stops him, no one suspects a thing. Puts the case in the backseat, opens the lid, does a quick check go make sure you're breathing alright. So he props it open by keeping a book in between the case and lid as he drives home.

Once he does get home, he just does the same thing he did before - close the lid, roll you into the elevator and up the stairs and into his place, looking back over his shoulder over and over. And once he gets you inside he just kinda... falls to his knees. Shivering. Disbelief. Because holy shit he actually did it. He actually went through with it and it worked. He sits there and stares at the case and - oh, fuck, gotta open it again for you to breathe. Actually, he might as well... take you out... when he first shoved you in, he was so high on adrenaline he didn't really process any of it, but now... he almost can't bring himself to take you out. That means he has to, like, touch you. He's gotta take a moment to mentally prepare for that. So he does. Deep breaths. And finally, with trembling hands, pulls you out, carries you on shakey legs over to the bed and sets you down.

You know, you're a lot... Smaller... Than you looked on screen. Sure, he knew your height and weight but... somehow you still seem so much smaller than he expected. That's good. Will make everything a lot easier, since you're easier to restrain. And your thighs. They're... so soft. This is so much better than the video. They're so... fleshy and warm in person. Perfect. And wow, that skirt thing is... scratchy. Actually, up close, that whole outfit thing you wear looks super uncomfortable. It probably is. ...Well, guess he now has a reason to take it off.

The rest of your skin is... also fleshy and soft. Warm. Your face... chest... stomach... everything. Your tits are really cute, too. It occurs to him that all those rabid commenters on all those boards and videos would probably kill to be him right now, pinching and squeezing at your nipples. He's seeing something they will never see. It gives him an ego boost, to be honest, makes him feel proud to get a sort of one-up on them. He gets you naked, but refrains from pulling your legs apart. He probably... wouldn't be able to control himself, and he's aiming for some self-control right now.

So he waits. Breathes deep. Restrains himself with every ounce of willpower he has. It occurs to him he has no fucking clue what he's gonna say to you. Unfortunately, that thought occurs to him as you're starting to twitch and mumble, so, he doesn't have too much time to think. Oh, fuck, you're not restrained... well, he bought some duct tape and handcuffs and blindfolds off of amazon too, so he quickly puts those in place as you're starting to wake up, and then finally, you come to full consciousness -- that telltale jerking at the restraints, the muffled little cry of confusion and fear. It's kinda hot to be honest. Well, fuck, very hot actually. You're so scared. It gives him a rush of power. Said rush goes straight to his dick.

He's got a mixed twist of guilt and arousal at the whole thing, but... he's still trying to have some self control... and if you start begging and pleading and crying, it would be too much. Oh, no, not that it would be too much in terms of guilt, no no, just that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from fucking you if he sees you cry. So he leaves the restraints on for now, so he can't see your face emote.

Then, he does something really, really mean. He knows it's cruel, honestly, it's just... so cute. What that is, is that he does nothing. Says nothing. He goes about his work, typing away, knowing you can hear, but doesn't say a word. He knows you're awake, he just wants to see how long you can sit there scared out of your mind before you finally make another noise to draw his attention. Right now, he thinks, you're probably debating, you're probably questioning whether you should keep quiet and make him think you're still out or make a noise... but eventually you will. He can see you trembling. You're probably thinking so many horrible things right now, wondering what will happen, what he'll do to you... it fills him with a sort of sadistic glee that overrides the guilt it comes along with. Sure, the guilt is there, but fuck, he could almost cum just watching you shiver, and that's more important.

And you finally make a noise. A little whimper. He stops typing, and swears he sees you tense when he does. And when he stands up, walks over to you (making sure to stomp hard and walk slow for extra effect, watching the way you curl in on yourself with each step he takes), and stops right in front of you. Finally, tells you not to scream. He's gonna give you water, ok? You nod. And, surprisingly, you don't make any move to scream or anything, you let him give it to you. You don't move a muscle besides your shaking and sucking the straw and swallowing the water. You must be really scared of him. He knows that's technically not what he should want, but... it feels nice.

He spent that time of silence coming up with what to say to you. He says that for now, you're going to stay right here. Don't ask questions. Don't make any attempt to escape. If you really need something, tap the headboard until he hears. Understand?

You're... Surprisingly receptive. You give a twitchy smile and stammer out an o-okay. He's almost pleased, but quickly realizes what you're doing.

You've been trained for this, you see. This kind of thing is attempted rather frequently in the industry. You received training for this situation - comply, don't fight, prioritize your safety, because in 99% of these cases, the missing idol is found and recovered within 48 hours. So you do what you were told to do -- smile, pretend you're ok with it, don't do anything to anger your captor.

He knows that too. He doesn't do much in that 48 hours, in fact, he even tells you he's waiting to "see what happens." He knows he can't control himself very well, so he stays in his living room for the most part and works on research, it might be pointless if he's in jail a few hours from now, but oh well. Sleeps on his couch. He offers to feed you, but you say you don't feel good. He understands.

See, in his mind, if he gets to fuck you once or twice and then be hauled off to prison and never touch you again, well, that would be actual, literal torture, so much so that never fucking you at all would be more bearable. So that's why he forces himself to wait now. He feels like he can't breathe, he's so nervous, like any moment police are going to come knocking on his door. Every little sound makes him jump. He can't sleep.

But 48 hours pass and... nothing happens.

He breathes a bit easier. Finally dares to go online, which he's been avoiding, and check on your situation... Oh, wow, social media has exploded over your disappearance. But... They have no leads. Nothing. Says she basically vanished out of thin air. Situation is, quote, "looking hopeless." Huh. He did an even better job than he thought he did. There's videos from loved ones begging the captor to let the girl go, offering to give him money even. A lot of money. But, you're more valuable than any monetary measurements could ever conceive. And he's happy. It really worked out. Everything went right, and for once, he has something that really, really makes him happy.

Likewise, the 48 hours are even more torturous for you. You start out telling yourself it'll be fine. Hopeful. But that hope in your chest slowly, gradually dies out as you realize you've hit the 48-hour mark. Even for a normal missing person, you've always heard that if they don't find them within 48 hours... the chances of ever finding them goes down significantly. But, that's because they're usually dead, right? And this guy won't kill you, so, your chances are better, right...?

He comes back after that 48 hours and finally, for the first time since you woke up, crawls onto the bed, touches you, grabs your hips with his hands. Tells you that, well, they haven't found anything yet and it looks like they aren't going to, so you're officially his now, and he's no longer worried. You should accept it. It'll make things easier for both of you if you do. You'll get adjusted in no time, you'll see.

Unsurprisingly, you're a bit less compliant than you were when you had hope. You whimper and and struggle, but it's really weak. So much so it's cute. You ask who he is. No one important, he says. Just... A fan of yours. You can hear clothes shuffling. He doesn't waste time, he's already waited two whole days suffering, so he gets his dick in you pretty quickly. Manages to make you cum. It horrifies you and kinda surprises him too to be honest. You must kinda like pain, huh. Well, that works out well.

As time goes on, what hope you had left dies completely. Weeks pass. You realize they're not coming for you. In an attempt to get you to accept it, he even shows you that you've been replaced. They're rather quick to fix the absence. They have a new girl in your spot by the end of the month. He quickly realizes maybe he shouldn't have told you, from the way your face falls and you get all hysterical. Sorry. It's the way the industry is. Don't worry. She's not even half as cute as you.

He shows you the announcement when they close the investigation, too. This also earns a rather hysterical response, but he thinks it's important you see it, so you can finally come to terms with your fate, the way things were always meant to turn out. He gets a bit frustrated. Just accept it. It's not that hard. The sooner you do, the happier you'll be. It's for your own good that you accept it.

And you do. Try as you might. You begin to make conversation. He's the only source of interaction you have. You learn about him and his life. You become invested in it. You start to cum more easily. When he's sitting on the opposite side of the bed typing away, you find yourself slowly wiggling your way over and pressing yourself against the warmth, and he certainly doesn't mind. You ask him about his research just to hear a voice talk.

And sometimes you sing. It's absent minded, soft and quiet, when you have nothing else to do. He likes that a lot. You get sweeter. Nicer. Fight less. It does take a bit longer than two weeks to set in fully. But it does in the end.

He can't be with you 24/7, as much as he would like to be, so sometimes he has to tell you to just hang on a little while. Be good and sit still for just a bit. He'll be back soon. Just give him an hour. You're just really distracting and, well, his progress report is due tomorrow morning.

And you keep getting upset over the new member, bring it up a lot... It must have really bothered you, huh. Well, don't feel bad about being replaced. To him, nothing could ever replace you... you're still his favorite.

[reidyoulikeabook]

Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

--

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.  

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

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

Tagslist: @takeyourleap-of-faith​​ @sassiest-politician​​ (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from this list)

[gisachi]

Hi ^^ I know that your requests are now closed but I was thinking that, given you have written jealous Shinichi, I would very much enjoy some jealous Ran! Maybe you can mix it with one of the prompts? Just throwing the idea out there, no pressure. Delete this if you don't feel like it, it's okay really. Thank you for writing these amazing fics, the shinran fandom is in your debt. ❤️

So this is the last (!!!) and longest (!!!) of the kiss prompts, and I dedicate it to multiple-requests Anon and to this Anon. I hope both of you still see this. It took me a while. ^^;;

P.S. Special thanks to @artycreaty for keeping this in check. You are awesome. 🥰

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. 46. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (6,489 words)

.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She has hundreds of reasons not to. They’re merely childhood best friends. Life would be much easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven. Shinichi absolutely doesn’t look at her that way. And so forth.

She wonders why they’re even friends in the first place. If their parents hadn’t enrolled them in the same kindergarten, she was certain they wouldn’t even be on speaking terms. He lives in a world of grisly books and crimes, she in a world of martial and visual arts. Their hobbies don’t overlap. They excel in different fields. They enter the same university with completely unrelated majors. The only bond they have in common is their shared history. Literally bonded since they were four, until now at nineteen.

So when she sees him all jolly around his newfound circle who hold the same interest in Holmes or detective work, it shouldn’t surprise her as much. It’s part of university life, it’s normal, they expand their horizons, and Ran understands that it hits much differently when they bond with people who like the same stuff they do. Something she’s aware they cannot share a hundred percent.

She’s proud of him, and she absolutely has no right to feel jealous, especially when she sees him around taller, prettier, more interesting women from his course block. There is no reason for her to look away with a heavy weight in her chest everytime the women get giggly and touchy while he’s absorbed in narrating his stories.

Everytime she does, she reminds herself of how he didn’t seem to mind when she was casted as the protagonist of their high school play and the leading man was the handsome Araide-sensei. Or how he simply shrugged when she fawned over the brother of a classmate because he looked so much like the karate senpai she was crushing on. Or when she secretly caught Sonoko dragging the detective behind gym after P.E. to confront him about his opinion regarding an upperclassman courting Ran and his only response was, ‘She can like whoever she likes, Sonoko. I’m not her boyfriend.’

He never showed her any sign of jealousy, therefore he must not be into her. Simple as that. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him differently. Getting snarky just because he received sixteen new fan mails again, more now that they’re in uni, and two even coming from the popular criminology seniors he is often teased to? Or ignoring him unprecedentedly just because his eyes followed the back of a woman with long chestnut hair and voluptuous curves? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s bound to be attracted to someone else. This is a pill she ought to learn to swallow eventually.

Eventually.

“Shinichi-kun, you never told us about your scariest case yet, tell us about it?”

Kaori closes her notes and so do the other two girls across her, and Shinichi’s eyes twinkle. He truly seems to enjoy study sessions with the little group they made consisting of some of his and Ran’s coursemates because they love listening to his stories.

“At the top of my head is this murderer disguised as a bandaged man, and he targeted us one by one…” and so the detective drones. Ran pauses typing and reminisces quietly. Ah, that one from summer three years ago. I was almost injured by that crazy man during my sleep but Shinichi woke me up in time.

“Ran-san,” Shun, her friend and coursemate, mutters beside her, also stopping his typing to listen to the detective’s story. “It’s ridiculous how popular Kudou-kun is with the girls. He’s full of wild adventures.”

“Yes, he is,” Ran says, smiling. “He’s been a girl magnet ever since high school.”

She watches as Kaori inches closer to Shinichi, listening attentively, chin on her palm and flirtatious smile on her lips as the detective rants on and on.

For the third time that afternoon, Ran looks away.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she has no right to be jealous.

She does, everyday, but it’s hard when he smiles at her, cares for her, holds her in a way she’s never seen him do for anyone else. It gives her hope every time the girls cling to him but he never touches them back, whereas he automatically slings his arm over her shoulder because she’s afraid or cold or he simply feels like it.

Then again, maybe she’s giving herself too much credit. Perhaps it’s a free pass for being around him for too long. She even gets to spend time with him during weekends and holidays. It isn’t special because it’s normal.

And that’s all she’ll ever be, a normal girl in his eyes.

“Ran? She’s pretty special.”

Ran reacts to the mention of her name and catches Shinichi looking at her. “She appears quiet but she can kick anyone’s ass without breaking a sweat. It’s bad if you cross her,” Shinichi gloats with a grin.

“Oh my god, really? We can bring her with us then!” Kaori claps her hands in excitement.

“Ah... But she won’t like that,” he follows up, wary. Ran has missed the topic they were talking about and now she’s curious.

“But ghosts aren’t real and Mouri-san can give them a good beating!”

“Gh-Ghosts?” The color in her cheeks drains, eyes freezing at Shinichi who has probably already expected that reaction, for he sports that same look of concern as those times he had expressed whenever she joined him in his way-past-bedtime elementary school adventures.

“We’ll investigate an abandoned house I always pass by walking home,” Kaori explains. “Last night I saw a faint cigarette light at the second floor window. It might be a fugitive or a homeless person or a ghost, who knows?”

“You don’t need to come if you don’t want to, Ran,” Shinichi assures.

Gulping, Ran contemplates whether going with them will do her any good. It’s a nice change, it’s been a while since she last tagged with Shinichi in his cases. But she isn’t exactly proud of shrieking like a little kid in front of serious criminology majors who may feel like she’ll drag their covert investigation down if she joins.

“...I’ll pass,” she answers meekly, and his coursemates sulk except Shinichi, who offers her a smile of understanding.

“Man, I thought we’ll be able to see Mouri-san in action!”

“That’s ok, maybe next time. We still have Shinichi-kun!”

“Shinichi-kun will protect us, ne?”

“Hah. Right. Invite Hakuba too, use him.”

“Oh c’mooon, Shinichi-kun!”

Ran closes her eyes, struggling to zone their voices out.

In her silence, Ran ponders if she has made a wrong choice.

.

.

Ran has no right to be jealous. So it’s unfair for her to be treating him this way.

The following weekend, Shinichi narrates what happened in their late-night investigation. Hakuba wasn’t there so Shinichi was the only available guy as usual. Ran refuses to hear any more details, both of the haunted house and secretly of the girls chancing onto him during the investigation. Shinichi is puzzled.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, just swamped with work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to assist?”

“No.”

Her replies are curt from the couch of his house, not looking at Shinichi on the other end as she mindlessly cleans up her digital sketches. She hates how snappy she sounds but her brain is too absorbed with conjuring spiteful imaginations to even think of masking her annoyance.

“Ran, hey. Look at me.”

His low voice freezes her from drawing, and she slowly looks up to meet Shinichi’s serious eyes.

When this happens, she knows he’s reading her. She inwardly chants a prayer because now isn’t a good time. Whatever time isn’t a good time. She doesn’t know what to say when she’s aware everything she’s been feeling is irrational and unfair. She’s being selfish.

“You’re… stressed.”

“No, I’m… Eh?”

He scoots closer, an arm’s length away. “Your dark circles are more prominent now, you need a break.” His eyes turn a soft blue. “Let’s have dinner out? My treat.”

Ran is surprised, to say the least. The last time he invited her out was two weeks ago. She’s become so used to seeing him around others that any initiative from him sounds too good to be true.

“But I need to finish this project by tonight.”

“Let’s have food delivery then!” Shinichi announces, not rattled by Ran’s indirect refusal. “I know exactly what you want. Ramen and shaved ice.”

Her eyes thin at the absurdly goofy expression she knows he makes when he’s being mischievous. “Clearly you’re ordering that ramen for yourself. I only like shaved ice.”

“Damn! Miss Detective gets it.” A mile-wide grin stretches across his face, earning an eye roll from the half-smiling woman. “Let’s eat together on your short break, please?”

He leans within a respectful distance and she sees his smile better, pair of kind eyes locking with her overworked ones. “It’s been a while.”

Her heart throbs for him. So much.

She caves - of course she does - and breathes her acquiescence.

After two long weeks, they have dinner together, just them and Shinichi’s ramen and Ran’s donburi and shaved ice, Shinichi taking a spoonful of dessert from the cup when she isn’t looking and Ran snatching a slurp from his take-out bowl and laughing when he catches her.

With how heartfelt his laughter is in her presence devoid of any mysteries, Ran knows she’s probably giving herself too much credit, but for once she wants to believe she is the cause of why Shinichi’s happy.

Just for that night, she gives it to herself.

She’ll change the dark colors of her digital artwork to brighter ones after they eat.

.

.

Despite everything, Ran finds it difficult to contain her recurring jealousy.

The more she shares precious time with him, the more it gets harder to suppress the selfish emotions. What is so unsatisfying about being the best friend is that she is only the best friend. No more no less. At the end of the day, she isn’t the one he gets to cuddle with, to tease then kiss, to tell ‘I love you’ to, romantically.

“I love you.”

Ran feels her heart about to leap out of her chest.

“But please. Stop. Tearing. The. Cushions!”

The little furball he has scooped underneath a throw pillow wiggle from his grasp. The kitten and detective engage in a brief staring showdown before it jumps away to hide under a farther couch.

Snapping out of reverie, Ran watches her childhood friend slink dejectedly onto the partly scratched furniture. He’s fortunate enough that his mother isn’t around to give him a long lecture on Why Pets Aren’t Allowed in the House 101. She can always take Yukiko-san’s role and reprimand him for it, but as for this and the cat, she finds herself not wanting to intervene.

“Kaori-san sure is taking her time with her parent’s permission. By the time she does, Momo would’ve shredded all the pillows in this house.”

“You named the cat?” Ran asks, amused.

“She did.” He thinks for a moment, then sniggers. “Actually I did. I suggested a random name. She took it.”

Ran merely hums. What can she say? They’re getting close. Close enough to team up as parents to an adopted kitten.

“I’m surprised you also agreed to keep Momo when you never took in animals before.”

“Kaori said she’ll treat me to the latest Detective Samonji movie this weekend if I do. Can’t resist that.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then he turns to her.

“Wanna join? I can ask her to count you in since you’re kinda helpi—”

“N-no need,” Ran quips, “It’s—It’s fine.”

“No really,” Shinichi insists, “Kaori-san has a lot of money, she—”

“I’m going to Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum with Shun-san this weekend... so... I can’t.”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“It’s, um, for a project,” she bolsters.

“I know.” The faintest smile graces his lips. “It’s your thing. Both of you.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

“Shinichi, you’re a detective, right?” she blurts out of the blue.

“Yeah...and?”

Then deduce what I feel. Here and now.

“Then you’re going to enjoy that movie!” Ran forces a beam, giving Shinichi a thumb of approval. “And you can discuss it with Kaori-san over dinner. I’m sure you two have a lot to say about it.”

Shinichi’s eyes linger on her, reading her like a book, and Ran has her mind reeling again, afraid to be read.

“Yeah, we do,” he finally says, ending the conversation.

Only a few words are uttered the rest of the afternoon.

Momo resurfaces and curls beside Shinichi.

Momo’s purring is loud, but Ran’s shattering heart is louder.

.

.

Ran must not feel jealous. She is not a girlfriend.

Because she isn’t a girlfriend, he’s free to fall for and date anyone else. Who is she to gatekeep him? There are plenty of fish in the sea, and he’s one big catch. Ran believes she’s a big catch, too. With the way she loves dearly, her future boyfriend is going to be very lucky.

Her future boyfriend is not going to be him.

“...mber the required fieldwork in one of my majors I told you? We actually go by batches. The first batch did theirs last month. The second batch was last week… and I— Ran, are you listening?”

“Ah! Yes,” Ran notices they have already reached her station and are now walking two blocks to her apartment. “Your fieldwork, right?”

“...Yeah,” he carries on. “I’m in the last batch... This whole winter break.”

“I see, I understand.” She smiles, getting what he means. No Christmas or New Year’s Eve together. The first time since they’re four. It’s fine, honestly. If it’s a required activity, then there’s really no way to go about it. She isn’t going to lash out just because she can’t be with him in her most favorite time of the year.

“And Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun will be with you?”

“Hattori did his last month. Hakuba is in the previous batch. I’ll be stuck with the girls.”

Ran’s heart momentarily squeezes. “Where will your fieldwork be?”

“In Akita.”

Her pupils constrict. “That far?”

“Yes... so to cut on expenses, Kaori-san offered her house for me and the others to stay while we’re there—”

Kaori. Again with the tall, beautiful, intelligent Kaori. She bets it’s amazing to spend the holidays doing what he loves and with Kaori beside her, snuggling with him by the fireplace in a romantic snowy night and she might even confess, and it’ll be a great catch for Shinichi, and he’ll return with a girlfriend, and—

“Kaori-san is lucky.” The words flow out of her mouth, unbridled.

Shinichi looks at her. “Lucky?”

Ran remains quiet and keeps walking. It’s dangerous to say anything. She only has one thing in her mind and she doesn’t want to say it out loud. She has no right.

“Ran, hey.”

She doesn’t stop walking.

“Ran.”

She ignores his call.

“Ran… you’re jealous.”

She stops walking.

“Excuse me?”

“...You’re jealous…” Shinichi repeats quietly.

A contrast to his calm tone, his irises beset hers in the cold twilight and Ran attempts to shield herself but her bag and umbrella are in the way. She thinks of turning away but her feet are frigid like icicles, and Shinichi steps closer.

For the third time, he declares, “You’re jealous.”

Hearing her thoughts echo through his words renders her speechless.

It seems to take a moment before Shinichi’s brow arches, lips curl up as his eyes refuse to stray, and she hears a faint exhale even, like he’s exasperated, and suddenly he’s smiling - or is he smirking? sneering? - and...and...

It stings, is her immediate reaction.

For the longest time, she’d wanted him to take a hint. But if she had known this was how he’d react, she’d rather live a life having him oblivious of her emotional struggle. Dealing with that is more tolerable than witnessing him gaze her down in blatant mockery. He sneers as though he’s about to crack a joke and move on and forget such a laughable matter. That’s the last form of acknowledgment she wants for her honest feelings.

Heartbreak and shame and pain build up in her chest like a volcano closing eruption. Water begins to cloud her vision. She clenches her fist tight on her umbrella and Shinichi notices, and he takes another step forward.

“Ran…?”

“I am not, and you’re a fool.”

In a span of a breath, she’s sprinting in the opposite direction, tracing the path where they have walked, ignoring the distant yells of her name behind her. She runs and runs, and as she runs farther, with her thoughts muddy and breath short and dry, she wonders if she may have overreacted.

If he’s done that on purpose, screw him. If not, screw her.

After all, they are merely friends and she has no logical reason to act this way.

“Stop... running... will you!”

She hears heavy footsteps close in. It takes all the energy Ran has to prevent herself from turning her body around but his strong grip overpowers her.

“Let me go!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I can’t...deal with you!”

“Why? Was I right?”

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter!”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“Because I am your best friend!”

On another occasion, she would’ve successfully jilted away and run farther, but Ran is floored when he yanks her into a one-armed hug, so floored she drops her umbrella to the snowy ground.

“Stop saying that!” he hisses in her ear, frustration apparent.

“What are you— Let me go!”

He hugs her tighter.

“If you don’t let go in three seconds, I will screa—”

“I am happy!”

Ran stops struggling, eyes widening in shock.

Icy huffs tickle her neck as he half shouts, “I’m happy you feel that way!”

“You’re...You’re happy because I’m suffering?”

“What? No! I—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How?” The hurt in her tone is impeccable, prattling muffled against his chest as she spares him no moment to butt in. “You think I wanted to feel this? That I enjoy griping in helpless jealousy? And you’re rejoicing that I am? How full of yourself can you be?!”

“That’s not...You don’t underst—”

“I do understand! I understand that I am so incredibly stupid for catching this disgusting heap of emotions for an obnoxious, stuck-up deduction maniac that is my best friend and maybe it’s better after all that he never, ever sees me the way I see him!”

“Stop saying that, Ran!”

She thinks he has broken away, but he drags her back with an insistent tug, crashing his lips onto hers as she stumbles into his arms.

All willpower rippling through her disintegrates quickly like snow in high heat.

An impatient pop resonates as he separates, eyes slowly opening, breath thick and ragged.

“I know that is not how we explain things, but does that explain anything?”

She hears it. The madness. But more than madness, yearning bleeds through his voice so much that her frustration turns into physical pain. Blinded by an all-consuming ache, she tips her chin and presses her lips back against his, demanding for cure in the wrong place. Shinichi freezes, then relaxes. He moves his hand to her nape, four fingers in her hair, thumb treading her jaw.

They look like a scene in a movie.

Under his umbrella and hidden from view, they communicate through brushing lips and tilting heads. His mouth closing over hers with gentle force, her hands splaying across his chest, heavy with something that makes his heart pound under them.

She is so lost in the chase and his tender embrace that for a second she forgets she is kissing her best friend.

Best friend.

This doesn’t explain anything. It worsens it.

She pulls back, ending what she has so recklessly started. “N-no, I’m— No.”

She pushes him away, gathers the stuff she drops, and runs without looking back.

“Ran!”

He shouts her name. Twice.

On the third call, his footfalls die down. On the fourth, he stops running.

She doesn’t.

.

.

Thirty minutes before midnight, Ran stands outside his gate, boots buried half foot under the snow as she rings his intercom for the second time, thinking to herself how foolish she must be to cut communications with him for a week and then show up his doorstep looking miserable like a stood-up date.

It’s the start of winter break.

He’ll leave for Akita in ten hours.

She needs to give his Christmas present before his departure.

She’s crazy, pathetic, still frustrated, and hurtfully in love.

“Oi. You better have a good explanation for why you’re buzzing at goddamn midnig—”

“Shinichi.”

His surprised gasp is apparent even through the intercom. A rustle follows and with a croaky voice, he responds. “...Ran.”

Surely he isn’t expecting this. Not after the tantrum she threw days ago. He probably thinks she hates him more than ever. But what she truly feels is more overwhelming than all negative emotions combined, and may god grant her all the strength to address it all, tonight.

“May I come in?”

“The house is—The house is a mess I, um. I’m packing my stuff for...”

“I’ll help you.”

“...”

She’ll understand if he decides to turn her down. But the answer that follows the deafening pause is a low and quiet ‘Okay’.

Despite psyching herself hours before she came, courage wanes when he opens the front door and gate in his pullovers. She is welcomed in, and the trip up his room is wordless. Shinichi only talks when he points out that he’s already packed clothes for two days and will need help for two weeks’ worth. He lamely laughs when he instructs her to pick the tops and layers, and he’ll take care of the pants and underwear.

On a normal instance, she would’ve humored him and they would’ve been talking right after. Now she simply pulls an empty smile and then they fall back into silence.

She supposes he’s trying to act unbothered, to treat what happened a week ago as a one-and-done glitch in their friendship, never to be discussed again. She cannot fault him when she’s trying to do the same. But it’s not easy when in the stillness of the night the echo of their altercation howls, raging persistently in their ears.

What has he been thinking of for the past week?

Has he been kept up all night by the words she said and the words he left unspoken?

Are they still friends? Will they still be friends after this?

The kiss... What about the kiss?

So many questions. So little words. So little time.

Ran is seated on the floor, folding shirts and stuffing them neatly in his duffel bag. Her back faces Shinichi who is sorting out bottoms in his cabinet. She senses him sit on the floor, back against her but not touching. Neither dares to speak first.

A ringing phone cuts the silence.

“Mm, still awake. Good for two weeks right? Gotcha. No, I’ll meet you girls at the station, no need to fetch me. Pfft. I can walk. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

If Ran wasn’t so hyperaware of where she is and what she’s done, her mood would’ve shifted to the one she’d been trying to avoid. Now isn’t the time to think about that. Midnight sneaking out to go to his house is something she wouldn’t do even on good days. She scans her bag on the far couch, deliberately bringing a bigger one to hide his gift. Maybe she can just sneak it in his bag and leave once she’s done and he’ll discover it only when he’s prefectures away. Brown has always suited him, and he’ll definitely find the overcoat useful as spare protective gear.

That’s right. She always cares for him like this. She is his best friend first, and... and nothing second.

“Don’t just leave after putting your present in my bag. At this hour, I can’t let you walk home alone,” he says swiftly.

Ran’s eyes fly wide.

“How did you…”

He doesn’t say anything and continues with his business.

Again with the throat-drying silence.

Something in Ran’s gut compels her to speak, but she is surprised when he does first.

“I... I don’t like Kaori-san. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ran stiffens, pausing mid-motion from folding. “I’m not…”

He leans his back completely against her and she shudders, voice reverberating through her skin. “Ran, if you could just hear me out.”

Unable to talk and move, she does.

“Kaori-san and the rest... They know I love mysteries. They know I want to build my own private detective agency. They know my favorite Holmes’ story is The Sign of Four. They know how many crimes I solved in Tokyo. All the information about me which anyone can read from the internet and newspaper and from what I told them when they ask, they know. Ran, you know all that. All that and more.”

He angles his head to the ceiling as if he’s talking to someone there. Ran supports his weight, curling to her knees as she silently listens.

“You know of my first ever deduction because Christ, my first deduction was about you. You know of the two cases which haunt me until this day because I watched the culprit die in front of my very eyes. You were with me the nights I locked myself in here thinking about them. You know of the interesting, the boring, the absurd cases, everything, because I told you or you were there. You know of the odd way I play the violin while I ponder over a case. You know I forget to eat when swamped with new books to read. I have three copies of The Sign of Four but the one I keep beside my bed and read almost weekly is the one you gave me on my tenth birthday and that is all I need. You know me for me, Ran. Everything about me that is off the record, the good and the bad, you know all of those. Only you. The same way I do... about you.”

She feels him crane slightly to the side, addressing her.

“Ran.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

Ran’s heart almost completely stops beating.

“I love you,” he whispers, “more than I am even supposed to.”

All words seem to have fizzled out of her vocabulary as she sits still, stunned at what she’s hearing.

“I’m happy growing up with you, studying with you, bickering with you, acting stupid with you, investigating with you, eating with you, napping with you, hugging you, holding you, taking care of you, simply... being with you. Before I know it, it’s not the cases or Holmes or mysteries that complete my days, it’s you.

“For you to keep repeating that ‘best friend’ phrase, I…” He lowers his head.

“For who knows how long, I’ve loved you as that and more.”

Someone pinch her because in no way can this be real.

“I was happy thinking you’re jealous because it meant a sliver of chance you feel the same way. We could’ve remedied the misunderstanding easily, Ran. We could’ve talked it over like we always do. But I was stupid and emotions were high and in the end I… kissed you…” he takes another deep breath, “But—but you kissed me back, and my heart couldn’t stay still...”

Pulse drumming loud, Ran tilts her head on the side where he leans, wanting to see the slightest expression he makes as he continues.

“If my deductions are wrong and you’re mad for a different reason, and—and you returned that for a different reason...” she hears the pang of remorse in his tone, “then please forget I ever said anything and I’ll leave myself to die in humiliation once I’m out of your sight.”

He lays one palm flat on the floor and she notices.

“But if my deductions are right and you were indeed jealous, I...” She feels his head swivel enough to feel his warm breath fan across her cheek, before shifting back front and releasing a slow, guttural exhale he’s kept contained within.

“I’ll wait... until you accept it. Accept me.”

Ran may have choked on her throat for how long she’s held her breath.

In spite of herself, she knows she doesn’t need to think of what to say. She had it all in her head before coming here. Yet expressing it out loud is a different matter.

She isn’t ready, but when will she ever be ready? Shinichi undoubtedly isn’t too. Yet here he is, laying the groundwork for her, no holds barred and a stuttering mess at that. How she plans to build from it is the question she asks herself next.

Inhaling as though bracing herself, she places a hand beside him, pinky slightly grazing his.

“I didn’t... You never showed any signs.”

Careful and calm, he extends his little finger over hers. She doesn’t flinch, and both hands crawl closer until two fingers overlap.

“Either I’m a great pretender or you’re incredibly dense.”

“I’m...I’m not dense.”

“I’m a bad actor, then.” He slides his hand further.

“I was trying so hard to be a supportive best friend for you.”

“I sensed that but ignored it because I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You did though. Now we’re here.”

“Would you rather we aren’t?”

“I would rather we spend the last weeks of this year talking like normal than being stupid idiots before you leave.”

“It’s just two weeks, Ran.”

“Two special weeks I would’ve wanted to spend with my best frien-... with you.”

Without knowing it, his hand has completely nestled atop hers, four fingers curled between her thumb and index finger.

“Ran... You must really hate the idea of falling in love with me.”

“Eh?”

“You’re so wrapped with the thought that we’re simply best friends that you hold your love in chains as though it isn’t permitted to grow.”

“I… I didn’t want to ruin the only connection we have-”

“Two friends falling in love are still friends… They are also more. You cannot ruin an indefeasible connection. Friendship and love may be the only bond we have, but they’re the most important bond of all.”

Ran falls quiet.

“Geez…”

He releases a thick sigh, brushes his thumb across her splayed fingers.

“I have shit art appreciation skills, but I can take you to museums too... as a friend and as a date.” A beat, and a mumble. “Even to better museums than Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum.”

She darts her head sideways, realizing something.

“Were you also…?”

“No.”

Ran doesn’t suppress the heartfelt giggle that bubbles out.

“Shun-san has a boyfriend, Shinichi.”

“I—” he pauses. “I wasn’t asking.” Ran giggles more.

“Shinichi.”

“Yes.”

“I love you too.”

The hand above squishes hers all too suddenly like he’s been blown away and is needing something to hold onto.

“I came here to give your present and to apologize for being so shallow and for acting without thinking and for a lot of things actually... but now I feel there’s no need, because then I wouldn’t have...” She looks down at their intertwined hands.

Before she can return his squeeze, he recoils.

“Oh, y-you do apologize. Running away like that.” He coughs, and she can practically hear the tripping in his tone.

“Aren’t you already used to it? I’ve done it many times,” she chides.

“No. Apologize,” he insists. “And look at me while you do.”

Ran’s stomach twists, heart kicking up a step.

It’s easy to talk without eye contact, but to be requested so after confessions are exchanged—

“Face me, Ran.”

The familiar voice of yearning strums her heartstrings, tone sounding a lot like a plea than an order and Ran finds her head instinctively craning at an angle, hand coiling on the floor trying to calm her nervous beating heart. She feels him shift behind as well.

She takes all her time to face him, partly unsure what to do, partly knowing exactly what she wants to do. Despite the deliberate slowness of their movements, it is when they lock eyes that time truly seems to stop.

Shinichi appears so different, so soulful. His blue irises glimmering, fixated on nothing but her as she reveres him with matching intensity. The same guy she treats as her best friend looks at her with tender love in his eyes, darting down her lips and up like no best friend ever would.

“I love you,” he says, breathless. “Make me your boyfriend.”

A wave of emotion sweeps over her, heartbeat fluttering in overdrive as they huddle on the floor, bags and clothes and time forgotten.

“From best friend to... such a shift-”

“Nothing will be different.” He rests his forehead on hers, gaze of soft blue patient though more intimate now, knowing what they share is mutual. “We’ll still do what we do... With exclusive romantic commitment and sweet nothings that translate to ‘I love you’ in more ways than one.”

She attempts a jab on his chest but he catches her fist, soft but jesting beam all too apparent and she does but play along.

“What about when we fight?” she asks.

“Same. But...” he slides a thumb over her quiet lips, parting them slightly, “I can do this once we make up.”

“...Like right now?”

“Like right now.”

A genuine smile is the last thing she sees before delicate pair of lips lands on hers, capping their one-week fight and their last night of the year together in the best and most unexpected way imaginable.

.

.

Ran keeps telling herself she shouldn’t be jealous.

Not because they are simply best friends, because they aren’t. Not because life would be easier if she didn’t involve herself in his business twenty-four seven, because it wouldn’t.

Not because Shinichi doesn’t look at her that way, because he does.

She shouldn’t be jealous because she absolutely has no reason to, is all.

“I haven’t forgotten about your present. I was planning to buy yours in Akita.”

“Stop lying, you totally forgot it.”

“I didn’t. Stop that.” Half-mast eyes rake her side profile, and Ran covers a mirthful grin with her mitted hand holding the umbrella, then yawns. Hours of packing and talking and laughing left them with roughly four hours of sleep. It isn’t like she slept the whole period because while sleeping in his room isn’t new, cuddling while they sleep is. Ran couldn’t simply shut her eyes and heart to that.

“I believe though,” he wraps a hand around her free one, pocketing both of them in his brand new overcoat, “I gave half of my present already.”

“Hnn. That doesn’t count as a gift.” Her hand shifted, coddling his own to a warm fit.

“Really?” A smug smirk pulls up his face. “I believe I am a nice present, Ran. That’s why they—”

“Screw this. You are unbelievable. A humbug. Why do people like you.”

“I know. Why do you like me?” Shinichi laughs as he avoids the swing of her umbrella.

From afar, they see Kaori and the girls at the meet-up point outside Tokyo Station, though they seem unaware of their presence yet. Suddenly feeling conscious, Ran feels the urge to disentangle her hand, but Shinichi holds on, firm.

“Why?” He asks in a low voice.

“I dunno… maybe this isn’t the best time…”

“Isn’t now the best time?” His smile is proud and natural, not one ounce of reluctance visible.

Although she gets what he means, that doesn’t free her of shyness and guilt. Somehow she feels like apologizing to Kaori for… she doesn’t know. She just wants to. Letting her see them like this makes her think that she’s giving her an indirect slap on the face. Shinichi certainly won’t agree because ‘What’s with women and their logic?’, but still, whether or not it’s all in her head, Ran needs more time to prepare for this.

But to her surprise, Shinichi lets go of her hand. They are still a few feet from view when he steps in front of her and turns around. “Maah, fine, I get it,” he huffs, then smiles. “Then, just give me your umbrella.”

The moment she does, Shinichi closes their distance and dips his face onto hers. Ran is given no leeway to gasp as loving lips seal her quiet. It isn’t as long as what they shared a week ago, but the emotions are loaded and full, speaking fond thanks and temporary farewell.

She doesn’t realize she has closed her eyes until he separates, and she’s met with the most tender, most angelic expression he wears only on the rarest occasions. He’s saying without telling that her feelings are valid, she doesn’t have to worry,  and he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but her. Somehow, the snow is the sea and fish are swarming around but neither cares because they have already caught each other.

“You don’t have to, silly.” Three layers of pink blanket Ran’s puffy cheeks.

“But I want to.” Grinning, Shinichi hands her back the umbrella. “You don’t like hand-holding. You don’t like being seen. Don’t you think that’s a great compromise?”

“Idiot, many people saw...”

“No, they didn’t!” Upping the duffel bag slung on his shoulder, he steps back and gives her one last goofy beam. “I’ll see you next year, Ran. I’ll call as often as I can.”

Wordlessly, Ran watches Shinichi’s back as he jogs to his waiting companions, who by then have already had their eyes pinned on the approaching figure.

“That is Shinichi-kun! ...And Mouri-san!”

“Ehhh!!?! You’re a thing!”

So much for being subtle, Ran flushes inwardly as she returns the wave the other girls are giving her. At that moment she really does feel immature for her past conduct. All of them are sweet. Even Kaori.

“I knew it Shinichi-kun! Mouri-san is sooo lucky, I’m so jealous!” Ran hears their banter and sees her jab his bicep before acknowledging her. “We’ll take care of him, Mouri-san!”

The Ran from one week ago would’ve had her heart crushed by such declaration, but now she’s nothing but pleased and the smile that forms across her lips is nothing but honest. “Make sure he doesn’t drag your group into a random dead body, Kaori-san!”

“Hey!” surfaces Shinichi’s shout amidst the mincing laughter of the group and the onlooking passers-by, and Ran bids her last wave before they enter the station.

Smiling to herself, Ran returns home, the lingering promise of his kiss committed to memory, knowing that she doesn’t have to get jealous because she has no reason to. Their indefeasible bond is all the assurance she needs.

.

.

.

[leejeongz]

nsfw a-z CHOI HYUNSUK (treasure)

🔅highly requested so i hope that you’re all happy with this and it’s what you wanted 🥺 these are so fun to write🤗🔅

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the nicest boy on the planet. he’ll get you water and will clean you up. he becomes your little puppy and would do ANYTHING for you. he asks you if you’re okay a LOT and is super soft and giggly with you. also tonnes of compliments 🥺

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes his mouth and what it can do to you. using it on any part of your body has you moaning… even just gentle kisses. he likes that he has that influence on you and uses it to his advantage.

on you his fav is… he doesn’t have one? he can’t find anything he likes more than the rest, everything about you is perfect to him and he tells you that regularly. but he is a big fan of your legs and how sexy they look 👀

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

on your face, in your mouth or on your chest. not really a fan of finishing inside because 1. he prefers safe sex 2. HE DOESN'T WANT A CHILD YET and so doesn't wanna cum in the condom either lol just in case. likes to cum on ur tits because it looks nice and it makes him cum thinking about it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he likes sending and receiving voice notes. it’s easier to get off to when you guys aren’t together and faster than texting. enjoys phone calls too but doesn’t have time to think before he speaks on the phone so that’s why voice notes >>. plus they last forever, he can return to them at any time.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

keeps it on the low because he doesn’t wanna make you think you have to “live up to previous partners” or “he’s just using me as a statistic” but he’s had a lot of sexual partners. most were romantic partners (as romantic as 3 month relationships can be) but he’s probably had to relieve stress with other people on occasion. he knows what he’s doing, but he doesn’t wanna compare you to other partners so he keep all of his experiences separate from whatever you’re doing together if that makes sense.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he likes hitting it from the back, doggy all the way. his hands rest on your ass and spread your cheeks occasionally. also gives him the best angle to spit on his dick before pushing it in (doesn't just rely on spit alone as lube tho, he learnt that the hard way).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

i wouldn’t call him goofy in the moment, but he’s not serious either. he’s just having a good time and so are you. he still remains the same person you see everyday, fun loving and sweet.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

the first few times he knew you were gonna do stuff, he shaved or at least trimmed. but the care slowly started fading out and he stopped doing anything down there. if you don't like it, that’s your problem, not his, it’s a lot of effort to go to for someone who clearly doesn’t accept him for him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

everything you do, it’s full of love, and it shows. he treats you like his queen and nothing less.

sometimes he can be distant tho, especially during quickies, he has one goal and that is to cum, you’re simply there to assist at that time. but after he’ll show you all the love in the world, he’ll even thank you hehe.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he does it in the shower most of the time. it’s private and also reminds him of times he’d had sex in there so it’s a winner.

the idea of having sex or looking back at sex is mainly what he gets off to, but he uses porn ocassionally when he’s jacking off in bed.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

PRAISE (giving)- likes to tell you when you’re doing something well and likes to let you know that you look good throughout. it’s his favourite thing to do because he means it. he tells you that you look good on your knees because you do, he tells you that he loves the way you moan because he does. he recognises that this makes him vulnerable but it builds trust.

daddy- only if you’re okay with it bc some people don’t really enjoy it for obvious reasons, but he likes you calling him daddy. he likes your voice anyway, but dropping “daddy” innocently into sentences not only turns him on but also makes him eager to please. you’re his baby girl so it’s only natural that he’s your daddy. he has to treat you right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he’s up for it anywhere when he’s in the mood. he loves shower sex. although a little impractical and kinda annoying at times, he loves being able to make out with you in a hot and steamy room and fuck you agasint the shower glass.

he’s also a fan of just basic on the bed, on top of the sheets. it’s convenient and hard to mess up.

both places mentioned he considers quite romantic too, which is why he likes them.

very very very turned on by the idea of fucking you in a bathroom or dressing room backstage but he isn’t sure if you’d be up for it or not, definitely something you’d have to initiate but he’s love it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

your voice and your moans - you turned on = him turned on. hearing you moan or talk in the way you know he likes… HARD ON STRAIGHT AWAY!!!!!

running your hand through his hair - it sends him crazy. his eyes roll to the back of his head and he has no control over himself when you do that.

wearing his clothes - especially if you wear nothing underneath. he’d encourage that shit too, constantly giving you hoodies and t-shirt’s to wear when you’re at his place.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that puts your safety at risk. you are his happiness and seeing you suffer, even if it something you enjoy, he hates it. he also isn’t one for receiving pain himself. i think he’d not only be hurt physically but also emotionally… like why would you do that to him?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

likes to keep it equal, always repays the favour. actually enjoys eating you out tho and it’s his ✨forte✨. let’s just say he knows what he’s doing with his tongue. he likes to hold your hand when he eats you out, like in a romantic, intimate way.

when you suck his dick, he’s the type to have his hands laced in your hair. he wouldn’t be too forceful and would let you go at your own pace. he never expects you to suck his dick, he’s not one to request a blowjob all too often, but he would never refuse one.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he would start of steady, letting you adjust and what not, before making you set the pace. you can back into him as slow or as fast as you want but after a few seconds he’ll be there to steady it out again. he’d be quite rough even though he’s attempting to be romantic, but it’s just to add a little spice.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

oh he LOVES quickies. they turn him on, even just thinking about them turns him on (and usually leads to one when possible). sex is sex and he’s game for any at anytime. most of the time these happen when people are in earshot. he tells you to be quiet but neither of you want to be. the idea of getting caught fucking you in his dressing room turns him on.

he’d actually prefer quickies to dragged out sex. fast fucking to get the job done is more appealing to him than dragging it out sometimes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he likes to stick to what he knows. he’d rather know that what he’s doing is good and is actually making you feel good rather than experimenting with something that could go wrong.

he does take risks in the sense that he’s gonna fuck you where you guys could possibly get caught but not as far as to inflict pain or injury.

saying that, he isn’t opposed to trying something that you want to try, or something that you’ve brought from previous experiences.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he drags out the whole thing if you have the time to, spends a lot of time on foreplay. although this doesn’t happen very often, this type of sex is once in a blue moon.

as mentioned above, he loves quickies, they’re his most favourite type of sex since they happen when either of you need it, not when it’s been built up for god knows how long because he’s too busy for that.

he usually can go for two+ rounds but chooses not to. once he’s started on his aftercare, there isn’t a chance you’re getting more dick after that, you’re gonna have to wait (unless you tease him ofc 11/10 would recommend).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he’s in two minds about them. if you already own them, he wants to see you use them and might use them on you too. if you don’t have any but you want to incorporate them, he’s not opposed to it but he’d rather you found out what you liked in relation to toys first. if you didn’t want to use them he wouldn’t even bring it up.

if you wanted to use some on him, he would let you try it out, but he wouldn’t force himself to enjoy it. if he doesn’t enjoy it he’s not letting you use it again.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s a tease outside of the bedroom but during sex, everything is as you see it. he doesn’t want to waste time teasing you, especially if you don’t have the time.

he likes teasing you when people are around. seeing you getting all clammy in front of your friends or his friends to assert his power over you. his favourite thing you do is wink at you and smile. so innocent yet it means so much more to you than it would to someone else when he does it.

sometimes teases you unintentionally. he puts his hand a little too far up on your thigh and before you know it you’re wet and he’s just having a laugh with his friends, not even noticing what he’s done to you. time to take him to the bathroom and show him i think ;).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

loud! groans and moans a lot, he’s not afraid to do it either, he doesn’t hold back. he knows you get turned on by his groaning just the same as he gets turned on by your moans and so he takes great pride in not being shy to make some noise.

dirty talk is a must among you pair once the initial shyness has gone. you could get off to each other’s voices alone. add that to some amazing sex and you’re all set for orgasm after orgasm.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

(i have a strange feeling that someone has written something like this before about hyunsuk (but better obvs and in more detail) but i can’t remember who… if that’s the case i promise this isn’t me stealing their idea or anything malicious).

“i’ve never done this before” you confessed, opening up your laptop to the screen he’d caught you on. you were really embarrassed that he’d caught you watching porn, but he wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest, in fact, it really turned him on. that’s why he suggested you watch it together.

“we can try it together” he encouraged, pressing the spacebar to continue the video. you turned up the volume a little, making sure you could both hear.

it took you both a few minutes to really become comfortable with the situation. you’d gotten back to imagining yourself and hyunsuk in that situation, while he studied it to pick up on anything that you might be into.

“oh” he looked over at you who was clearly deep in thought “you like blindfolds too?” he asks.

“yeah, it’s hot” you reply, not once taking your eyes off the screen.

hyunsuk looks around your room when his eyes land on your sleeping mask. he hesitates for a second, thinking he might ruin the atmosphere if he springs in on you straight away. he decides to not ask you just yet, he’s a little too tired to have sex right now, but remembers it for the next session.

you glance over towards him, his trousers and hands catching your eye before noticing that he wasn’t even watching.

“are you embarrassed? i can turn it off if you want” you question. he slowly removes his hands from over his pants and instead replaces it with yours. you begin to palm him while steadying the laptop with your other hand. the laptop was soon moved to the end of the bed. your hand was now in your underwear and his was in his boxers. the experience was surreal, it was a lot of firsts for you, you’d never even thought about rubbing one out while your boyfriend did the same next to you, but you were definitely enjoying it.

“don’t cum until i do,” hyunsuk ordered. easier said than done. “i wanna cum listening to your moans, baby”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's smaller than average…4-5” with average thickness but he gets the job done and it doesn’t affect the pleasure he can give to you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

proper sex, 1-2 times a week. he can be horny whenever you want him to be and you both know that, but he doesn’t always wanna have sex. sometimes he’s just happy with getting you off, especially if he’s tired.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he gets a little hyper after sex and wants to stay awake just to be around you and show you how much you mean to him. falling asleep is the last thing he wants to do. if you haven’t actually had sex, just a little fondling and playing, he’d fall asleep pretty much straight away afterwards. the whole reason you pair didn’t go all the way at the time was because he was tired so…

[thatsamericano]

A Much More Dramatic Romerica Reveal

With the addition of the Marcello blackmailing Romerica into getting him a Vespa plot (and FrUK’s subsequent belief that Savino is exploiting their naive, infatuated son for sex and expensive things he wants), the Romerica reveal scene becomes a lot more dramatic. Here’s how I see it going down and what eventually happens.

On New Year’s Eve, Romerica hang out with their brothers in the living room while FrUKSpa are out at some fancy NYE party with a rich friend on a yacht or something they’d planned to attend months ago. It’s very exclusive and the kids weren’t invited, so they had to leave them alone at home even though FrUK think Romerica are in a sexual relationship and Antonio is a little less skeptical about that being a possibility if Savino ever returned Alfred’s feelings. Marcello is happy with his blackmail present and going out on rides with Savino and maybe a little guilty they actually went out and got it for him because he wasn’t expecting that to work as well as it did. (Savino was protesting more, but Alfred was pretty much on board right away and just trying to explain how he had to wait for bank transactions to go through to make it happen.) They don’t kiss at midnight to appease Marcello, who obviously has a problem with them, but they may be able to act a little more cuddly than they do in front of their parents. After they watch the ball drop and celebrate a little afterwards, everyone goes upstairs to bed. Matthew had pre-arranged with Alfred to have a “sleepover” with Savino’s brothers so Alfred and Savino could get an empty bedroom for a night. They have penetrative sex for the first time and somehow find a way to control Alfred’s volume so their brothers won’t hear them going at it, and it’s all very sweet and romantic. They fall asleep in each other’s arms, and it’s sappy and adorable.

The next morning, FrUKSpa get back from their big party night, and the kids are starting to wake up. Romerica sleep in because they’re tired from the night before, and they might have to shower this morning because they were too focused on having sex to do that last night, so they’re taking much longer to get up than everyone else (even if they aren’t getting distracted in the shower). But FrUKSpa are all in a relatively good mood from last night’s party, so nobody’s busting down the doors to come get them, even if FrUK are suspicious about them “sleeping in” so late. Marcello doesn’t mention a sleepover to them since Savino and Alfred have kept their blackmail promises even if it does annoy him to know they had sex last night and that’s why Matthew was in their room.

Romerica come downstairs just in time for New Year’s brunch, and it’s obvious something happened between them last night because they’re staying very close to each other, both have somewhat wet hair (so clearly showered together), and are giggly and shy like they were after the first time they did something sexual together. FrUK are internally seething about this, and Antonio is thinking it’s something like Savino telling Alfred he loved him too or maybe a midnight kiss because he’s not so focused on the idea of them having sex as FrUK have been for weeks, may not notice the wet hair, and believed Alfred’s story about having one-sided feelings for his son. He’s surprised but thinks it’s cute, is glad Alfred isn’t miserable anymore, and thinks maybe FrUKSpa should talk about this with Romerica after brunch (not to confront them, but just to understand what’s going on and talk about the situation).

Romerica are in such a stupid, happy mood that they get careless. Savino says something like, “Could you pass the sugar, amore?” and Alfred giggles and says something cheesy in response like, “Sure thing. Here’s some sugar for my sugar!” and everyone stops eating instantly and silverware hits the plates because now the cat’s out of the bag and everyone knows (or at least thinks they know) exactly what’s going on.

Arthur loses his goddamn mind and goes “I fucking knew it!” and starts accusing Savino of wild shit. He’s so angry it’s hard for Romerica to process what he’s saying, and maybe he focuses in on the fact he thinks they’ve been fucking for a really long time (maybe back when Alfred bought the textbooks) instead of the thing he actually has a problem with, which is the belief that Savino is exploiting his naive, infatuated son. Francis joins in, and he’s almost as bad as Arthur, because this time it’s not just about them having sex (which is something he might not be happy about, but would discuss with them in a more private setting with just FrUKSpa). To him, this is about his kid getting manipulated, so both he and Arthur are going full papa wolf on Savino. Savino is sobbing because FrUK are screaming their heads off at him, and Alfred is sobbing too because of his boyfriend and because he is processing FrUK’s reaction as disgust that they have done NSFT things with each other.

As soon as he sees Savino crying, Antonio starts fighting with FrUK. He loves them both very much, but the way they’re treating Savino so cruelly is making him think he needs to break up with them. To Antonio, the nephews he thinks of as his sons have always come first ever since his sister died. He was extremely clear with FrUK about this when they started to get serious, and he thought they would understand since they have kids too (and they said as much at the time). Now, Arthur has made Savino break down twice in one week’s time on major holidays. Antonio mostly forgave him for the first incident since Arthur didn’t know he went to see his nonna’s and parents’ graves on Christmas Eve and was very apologetic afterwards, but now this morning is bringing his anger about that back to the surface. And Francis, who had been trying to make Arthur calm down back then, is joining in on making Savino cry like this. Not to mention Alfred! He’s also confused and angry about why they’re freaking out about Romerica doing sexual things, because to him this is clearly not just a sex thing even if they are doing that with each other. Savino has dated people before and brought them home around Antonio, but this is the first time he’s ever heard his son calling anyone amore. He’s probably not thinking of this consciously, but he might know that Alfred was there outside the graveyard when Savino was speaking to his dead relatives and that Alfred comforted him afterwards and brought him home, because maybe Savino told him he didn’t have to do that this year because Alfred would. Up until now that’s only a thing he’s let a close relative, usually Antonio, do. (Back then, he was seeing it as a friendship thing, but now he isn’t if he’s thinking about this. And he would clearly see it as a love thing if he knew Savino brought Alfred in to introduce them and let Alfred talk to them too, because before Savino always talked to them alone.) If he hears an accusation of Savino manipulating Alfred to get him presents and using him for sex, he’s pissed because he knows his son would never do that and his partners should know that too since they’ve known Savino for a while now and might have bonded with him over things (cooking for Francis and gardening for Arthur).

Marcello gets ticked off and blames the FrUKSpa fight on Romerica (because he did get worried about a minor tiff I’ve already written, so clearly he hates the idea of FrUKSpa fighting). For his whole life, Marcello has had a single dad (who he thinks of more as his dad than his brothers would since he can’t remember his parents) who had a hard time getting into a relationship. In his opinion, Romerica have wrecked the happiness his Papà found after so long with their stupid relationship. He spitefully accuses Savino of ruining Antonio’s life, not knowing this is a sore spot with his brother, and Alfred is *this close* to decking a nine-year-old.  He’s also *this close* to decking his own parents because they’re making his boyfriend feel like absolute shit. He’s sobbing badly, but he might be yelling too while all this is going on in an attempt to defend his boyfriend. FrUKSpa are too busy yelling at each other to listen to him.

Savino runs away from the table and goes upstairs because he cannot deal with this shit anymore. He starts packing a duffle bag full of clothes, his wallet, and whatever he can think of because he legitimately thinks he has to run away at this point. Alfred thinks they both do, so he also starts packing. They come up with a more “reasonable” plan than when Alfred tried to run away last time and call up one of their friends who knows about them and is okay with them being together (not Tolys, because his stepbrother was dumb about them before, and that’s the last thing they need to deal with). The friend promises to at least let them stay while the storm passes.

During this entire confrontation, Feli and Matthew have been trying to get their parents to calm the fuck down and listen to reason (mostly FrUK, because they agree with everything Antonio is saying but his yelling isn’t helping right now). When Matthew notices Alfred and Savino are no longer in the room, he roars at his parents that they’re making Alfred run away again, and this time Savino is going with him. Matthew knows that everyone, especially his parents, were worried when Alfred ran away a month ago. Is that what they fucking want?! Francis or Arthur (I’m thinking Arthur, because he’s generally been the biggest asshole about Romerica in this) says he “doesn’t give a shit” about what happens to Savino, and Feliciano bitch slaps the fuck out of him. He starts screaming at FrUK about exactly how long he’s known his brother was in love with Alfred (at least since they moved into the house in August, and knowing how guarded Savino can be, Feli knows the feelings went back a lot longer than he’s been able to notice them). Feliciano says that Savino told him about introducing Alfred to his dead parents and nonna and explains just how remarkable this is. He has never let anyone join him while he does his yearly ritual of talking to his dead parents, not even his own brother who lost them at five years old and would best understand how Savino feels about their tragic deaths. FrUKSpa are flabbergasted, because they all know how sensitive Savino is about his parents’ deaths (Antonio the entire time he’s looked after Savino, and FrUK when he became their stepson, especially after the Christmas Eve incident). They’re shocked into silence, and this allows them to finally notice Marcello weeping quietly into the table about the Vespa and how he was the one who made Savino and Alfred get it. He is pissed off at his big brother and honestly hates Alfred because he’d hurt his feelings with the Christmas card incident so bad, but he loves Savino deep down under his brattiness and is scared at the idea of him running away with Alfred and never coming home again.

Antonio puts his parent hat on, and he leads Marcello upstairs. He’s gentle with him because he’s a scared nine-year-old, but he makes it clear he’s very disappointed about what he did to Alfred and Savino and that he will face a consequence commensurate with what he did. He makes Feli watch him while he and a very chastened FrUK try to go find Romerica (who have probably left the house at this point and are God knows where) so they can bring the couple home and actually talk about the relationship in a calm and honest way.

Eventually they do agree to come home with FrUKSpa and talk because they can see that FrUKSpa are being honest about their intentions (there is some doubt, but Romerica is willing to try when they say they won’t accuse them of bullshit or try to make them breakup). In the talk, they start to go over the misunderstandings that led them to this point. Honestly, at this point everyone in the house needs group therapy, and FrUKSpa promise to look around for a family therapist who won’t try to make Romerica break up, because based on what they’ve heard today, that is clearly never happening. Once Marcello is calm enough, he sheepishly apologizes to Romerica about the blackmail, and they’re annoyed he did that but say they forgive him because they can tell he’s actually sincere.

I don’t think everything that happened in this fight can be resolved in one day, so I would show some individual snippets of therapy, like Alfred and Marcello talking about why Marcello had such an issue with Alfred being with his brother that he decided to blackmail them. I’d show how everyone is adjusting to Romerica openly being together, including how some people (like Arthur, who does have some misgivings about the stepbrother aspect, or Marcello, who had such resentment about them before this huge reveal/fight) take longer but eventually come around to the idea.

[mylordshesacactus]

1, 3, 15 and 23 for the askmeme?

What themes would you like to write about that you feel don’t get explored very often?

Hmm. See, I feel like it’s fairly self-evident from my writing what themes I care about and want to explore, and since 99% of that writing is already embarrassingly niche, it goes without saying that I don’t think those themes get enough love XD

Found family is, thankfully, a very popular trope. The slightly more niche themes that I enjoy exploring are...hmm. How to phrase this.

The (inherent eroticism of the) loyal lieutenant trope; that not only is it okay to not want to lead, but that people can want to be a natural second-in-command without feeling resentful or having that itch of ambition. That being the loyal, quiet support and standing back and watching someone you trust implicitly lead can be what you aspired to in the first place.

The idea of kindness and respect being about what the other person needs to feel safe, not what feels right to do.

The bright, dramatic, larger-than-life fantasy realm is primarily populated by ordinary people. This does not have to be a “deconstruction” or “commentary” on fantasy tropes or on the larger-than-life canon characters; they can and should coexist, because they’re part of the same world.

Asskicking =/= authority. Authority =/= leadership. Leadership in its purest form is soft-spoken and sure, with nothing to prove and no need to posture. Authority only requires certainty that the people under your command can be trusted to do their jobs. Leadership requires certainty that the people under your command can be trusted, fully and completely.

Animals Don’t Work Like That, Actually

Canine Body Language Is Completely Different From That, Actually, You’re Thinking Of Cats.

Loyalty requires you to challenge the people you love outright. Anyone worthy of real loyalty might be angry at first, but will ultimately trust you more as a result.

True love means trusting one another to do the right thing, and knowing for a fact that the other person will not betray their greater responsibilities for your sake no matter how much it hurts them. Anything less is not love; it’s selfish obsession.

What loves do you tend to write about?

Oops I kind of gave that one away with #1 huh. Well, a quick summary then: Agape, philia, storge, pragma, are going to feature most heavily. 

Which isn’t to say there’s less of eros. And if you’ve read my smut you know I LOVE playfulness in sex and romantic relationships; all intense passion is exhausting, you should be able to laugh together, and honestly it’s healthy to still have the hallmarks of ludus show up sometimes. Especially when my faves have such fucking awful lives, letting them just kind of...be grinning, giggly young women who like each other a lot is nice.

Mania (as in, the term for obsessive love in the Greek tradition and not like, the psychological condition) is such an intensely terrifying and deeply unpleasant force--writing it makes me feel so dirty--that it doesn’t show up very often if at all. It’s always an antagonist, if it does, because it’s so incompatible with love.

And all my fanfic faves are like no philautia we hate ourselves like wlws.

What physical quirks do your characters tend to have?

Oooo, I LIKE this one.

This is pretty clearly OCs, since with fanfic characters I at least TRY to just accurately recreate what their physical quirks onscreen seem to be. So, my OCs...

One linguistic quirk that I like to give to OCs is an oddly specific one--you can get a LOT of characterization into a small package by creating characters who are extremely laconic--writing their dialogue by trying to get across their idea in as few words as you possibly can, and using body language for the rest. The most recent version of this is my WoW character Talet, who I actually write as mostly nonverbal. In her case, this is the result of long-term isolation and partially due to trauma; she can and does speak, but she communicates mostly through lupine nonverbal signals to the point where her ward (officially her “apprentice” but in practice, her adopted daughter) openly describes herself as Talet’s “translator”.

I also have a weakness for characters with extremely still body language; not necessarily stiff or tense, just....still. No fidgeting or wasted movement. And for characters who can be described as soft-spoken--often as surprisingly soft-spoken, like my blunt and impolite mule handler with a low, rough voice...who has a completely contradictory tone, very gentle, very calm. Only with her beasts, of course. Or trauma victims. Or children. Or--

Do you prefer reading series or standalone novels and does that reflect on how you write?

Oh that’s also a good one. I like both! Honestly, SHOCKING information from a fanfic author--I love stories that set up a unique and interesting universe with like...rules? Especially when that universe feels bigger than the one story we get to see in it. 

And I’m a sucker for the IDEA of spinoffs, I’d normally adore big sprawling universes that allow for lots of stories to be told in the same basic world. It’s a shame that expanded universes get so bloated and that the writing gets so bad--and I think a major failing of that format is that they so quickly lose sight of the POINT of an expanded universe and try to make every goddamn thing interconnected. The whole POINT is that you can just....read or watch the stories that appeal to you, and while knowing other stories might enrich that experience not knowing them doesn’t detract from it.

(Discworld. The perfect model for how to do this is Discworld. Not interested in the Watch? Cool, here’s a pile of books about other characters. Not interested in Granny Weatherwax? Cool, have fun being wrong but also have fun reading all these witch-free books while doing it. Not interested in Death? Tough shit and have I got news for you about the degree to which not being interested in Death affects its presence in your life, but you don’t have to read books ABOUT Death.)

However, I do have a firm policy about series, and ESPECIALLY about the first book in a series: Cliffhangers are cheating, and they’re weak writing, and they’re only allowed if they’re setting up the actual finale. 

(It’s a mark in Rise Of Kyoshi’s favor that I didn’t....entirely....mind the cliffhanger because the rest of the book was so good. And since the Kyoshi novels are a duology, it’s TECHNICALLY allowable)

You CANNOT use a cliffhanger at the end of your first book. That’s a horrible sign in the author’s faith in their own story. If this is your FIRST IMPRESSION, and you don’t think the story you told is good enough, you don’t think your world and your characters are compelling enough, to get me to come back without straight up leaving the story unfinished in order to make me come back if I want to find out basic information?

Cool. You’re probably right. I don’t care anymore.

Your first installment HAS to stand on its own. The penultimate book can end on a cliffhanger if you really must, because at that stage in the plot it’s normal to assume there’s lots of things happening quickly, and it feels like less of a cheap trick; if I got four books into a five-book series, or two-thirds of the way through a trilogy, I was probably already planning to come back for the finale. But the first installment has to tell its own story, whole and entire, or I’m probably not gonna care enough to stick around.

Open endings are not the same as cliffhangers. Open endings are great.

So, yeah. A well-written standalone novel and a well-written series are basically the same, and the initial book in a series at least should also serve as a well-written standalone novel in the first place!

[griffelkinn]

All the Transwomen I Met

I've felt the need to write this and share it, for a few years.

About 5 years ago, I moved to San Francisco. I didn't know anyone in the entire state, so I spent a lot of time and effort meeting new people, and going to social events, and accepting invitations from most everybody who invited me to anything. I met a ton of people.

When I moved out there, I didn't really know anything at all about transgender people. I was told about that idea pretty quick once I got there. I thought it was really great that people were comfortable being themselves. The idea that men who enjoyed wearing stereotypically "women's" clothes, were becoming more comfortable doing that. And the idea that men were rejecting stereotypes of men that were forced onto them from childhood, so they could be themselves without shame. And the reverse... women rejecting uncomfortable stereotypes of women so they could be happy. It was an exciting idea that if more and more people started doing this, it would become more and more obvious that none of the stereotypes about what women are like and men are like are actually real. Sexism would be almost completely done away with!

I wish that was what happened. I was really excited to see it happen.

But that isn't what happened. Something bad happened.

In San Francisco, there were a LOT of transwomen. And so while I was meeting all of those people, and doing all that socializing, I ended up meeting and becoming acquaintances with a lot of transwomen. I have written a brief description of literally every single transwoman who I became friends with or got to know at all. I left none out. There are nine. I have felt like this was very important for me to share.

The first transwoman (man who likes to be called a woman) I knew, rubbed his penis on me when he thought I was sleeping. This was shortly after I told him I didn't return his romantic feelings for me, which I had told him many times already.

That same man had previously told me that he'd spent most of his young adult life pressuring girls to have sex with him.

The second transwoman I knew, became enraged when I casually commented on sexism in commercials. I thought what I said would be met with obvious agreement. I hadn't known many transwomen yet, and I thought that they would understand sexism and feminism a little more than men on average do. I learned that I was very wrong. I'd commented on how a string of commercials we watched featured men speaking with intelligence, confidence, and authority, and they featured women speaking in forced baby voices, sounding insecure, dumb, giggly, and weak.

This man advanced on me physically to where I was sitting, with another angry transwoman, very loud and mad, and was very upset with my comment. He said women like talking like that, and also their vocal cords physically are only able to talk like that. Then he said my comment could be compared to women who really want to wear high heels to work, but people don't let them. Which is obviously ridiculous, because that is exactly the opposite of reality... women are being forced by their workplaces to wear high heels, which most women hate and which injure feet. That is still a sexist reality in many places that women are fighting to end. He was somehow saying I was like the fantasy people who don't let these fantasy women wear high heels to work, because of my comment.

This same man told me that he was really respected in China, which is where he was born, because he's a woman and in China women are dominant and considered superior to men. That is true, isn't it. Yes, very accurate. Not at all incorrect or literally opposite of reality.

The third transwoman I knew got upset with me at Halloween season, when I commented that women should be offered normal costumes just like men are, rather than only "sexy" versions of costumes in most places. There should be the same options for girls and boys, and women and men. He immediately disagreed and would only repeat that "Women like wearing sexy costumes!" I repeated that girls and boys should both be offered normal costumes, and obviously if anyone, man or woman, wanted to wear a "sexy" version of a costume they should wear whatever they want. He still disagreed. He said that "women have very little opportunity to dress femininely and sexy, and Halloween is a chance they can do it." I explained that was the opposite of reality. Women have tons of times when they are allowed, encouraged, and pushed to dress femininely and "sexy". That includes work, after work, weekends, and... all other times I would say. I'm pretty sure he was thinking of men, for whom his comment would have been accurate.

That same man got very angry when I said women were made to feel they have to wear makeup, and that is bad. He became very angry. Not just a little. Very angry. He kept saying (angrily) "Women like wearing makeup!"

That same man told me he was a pedophile, and had to keep himself away from children.

That same man told me that "sexism is good for some women".

That same man supported Gamergate. That same man told me that the separation of women's and men's sports are not at all related to people's biological sex, and that men who want to be called women should compete in women's sports.

That same man told me that sexism doesn't exist at all in America, and people are treated exactly the same their whole lives whether they're female or male. (I know, it contradicts his other statement that "sexism is good for some women"). I said that I had a lifetime of many many instances where I experienced sexism. From when I was very little until the present. He mockingly told me to name just one. I was so horrified that he honestly thought I would be unable to think of a single experience of sexism, and that he was mocking me about it, that I told him that it would demean me to answer to his demand of one example. It would obviously be lowering myself too far.

That same man told me that sexism in countries outside America don't have any effect on me.

The fourth transwoman I knew, I saw a movie with. It was good, but I noticed some very obvious sexism in the portrayal of female characters and male characters, which I later learned most everybody noticed. And while most everybody including me agreed it was a great movie, the extreme sexism was obvious. After the movie I said so, how I loved it - but it was very sexist in these examples. And this man started insulting me and being very annoyed. He said venomously that the portrayals of female and male characters was "realistic", and then just as venomously asked me "What are you, a FEMinist?" Clearly he felt the only acceptable view of feminists is to hate them. Somehow he expected me to want to insist to him that I wasn't a feminist. Obviously I loudly said "Yeah. I am a feminist. Aren't you a feminist?"

I never saw him again. We had been casual friends for a few months, but apparently that interaction made us both lose the desire to try and meet up again.

That same man, weeks previously at a fast food joint, told me ever since he started taking estrogen that he's become extremely physically weak. He was grinning while describing to me how wonderfully weak he was, and clearly that was an idea that made him very happy. A personal fantasy. He said how now his arms are so weak, he can barely throw a frisbee! I asked him to arm wrestle and he beat me with no effort in one second. I'd assumed that would happen.

The fifth transwoman I knew, was a very nice person. He was kind, and fun, and not a misogynist, and didn't get angry if anyone criticized anything sexist. He also didn't mind going into men's public bathrooms. I really liked him. We were friends.

The sixth transwoman I knew was over six feet tall, and had a fantasy that men would rape him. He would only ever dress in cartoonishly sexual stripper-style outfits. He described multiple times to me how he was worried that men would rape him when he walked around in public. In a voice and level of description that made it obvious this was his personal sexual fantasy. He suggested that he and I are both equally in danger from sexual assault. I'm 5'1 and just trying to live my life. He was over 6 feet and that was his sexual fantasy. We were very different in our experiences of the threat of sexual assault.

The seventh transwoman I knew, I went to the movies with and he put his hand in my crotch area. I said "WHOA I am not comfortable with that." And I physically took his arm and returned it to his own seat. He immediately put his arm around my neck and shoulders and said in an annoyed whiny voice "Well can I at least do this?" And I had to say no again. We barely knew each other, and were not at all romantic. I had zero romantic thought of him. He clearly didn't care or consider if I did or not. It didn't affect his feelings that he should be allowed to do things like that for his pleasure.

The eighth transwoman I knew was over six feet tall and white. He came up to me suddenly and told me that he is twice as oppressed as me, because he has sexism, as a woman, like I do, and he also has "transmisogyny". I was so shocked that he would say he experiences sexism like women that I was speechless. Obviously he was a man and so he did not. He was also gigantic. I don't really know why he wanted to come up to me and tell me that he had "twice as much oppression as me". After he said it he just kind of looked at me waiting to see what I would say. That was the first instance I learned about the "oppression olympics". I had never used the word "oppression" before and very rarely heard it used in person. But I was disgusted by his competitive declaration of victimhood. Since then, of course the word "oppression" has become extremely popularly used in conversation, and that's usually a good thing, but there is definitely this unsavory world of people like him who build their identities around having the "most" oppression, like an impressive commodity, who have no basis in reality.

That same man, after my lack of response, then told me that he also doesn't have white privilege because he grew up poor.

That same man told me that he'd spent much of his life pressuring women to have sex with him.

The ninth transwoman I knew, told me he would only ever date women who shave their bodies. I know that men have no idea the level of pain and insecurity that teenage girls go through because of the forced shaving culture, so I gave him a break and replied with a kind of friendly comment that even though shaving their bodies for women is an extremely torturous social norm, everyone has preferences about their romantic partners and that's fine. Though I felt like that particular preference is specifically a preference for women suffering an unhealthy lifelong ritual born completely out of insecurity. I figured I'd just write this guy off, and there was no point in saying so. But I couldn't help poking the misogynist bear a little. He was trying to get me to hang out with him. So I asked if he just won't have a relationship with a woman who doesn't shave her body, or if he can't even stand to see them at all in any setting. Because it was summer and I love going to the beach in shorts, and I needed to know if I shouldn't invite him to to beach. I actually thought I was being funny and that he would know that, but he answered seriously that he "would feel grossed out if he looked at me." Imagine one person feeling comfortable telling someone that they would feel grossed out to look at you. That man sure felt comfortable saying it to me.

I have also known some transmen. They are usually very kind, thoughtful people. I have known some very closely for years before they decided to be transmen. Most of them, years after that decision, still fight internally against the feeling that they have to wear makeup every day or else be ugly and worthless. Most of them still mentally fight to nurture any sense of self-confidence to speak their opinions, or take up space in a group as a full person, who deserves as much free immediate respect as any other.

Those are things that women experience.

Almost all transwomen are now saying that they are not men breaking social expectations. They are women. And women are sexist stereotypes.

Men breaking social expectations would deserve respect and props for being themselves despite social pressure. That would be a cool move. But they are instead insulting women, supporting sexist stereotypes religiously, closing down women's shelters, women's rape trauma centers, and women's festivals. They are taking women's government positions, women's scholarships, and women's awards.

**CONTENT WARNING for below **

Transwomen have made it so now any and all men are allowed to go into women's bathrooms, women's changing rooms, and women's shelters. And MANY of them have been raping and murdering children and women. They've been kidnapping, videotaping, and sexually harassing women and children.

There are many myths that transgender activists send around social networking sites. There's one that is very popularly shared that says transwomen in America are in danger of being murdered. That is a lie. White transwomen in America are less likely to be murdered than white men who don't identify as a transwomen.

Even if they were in danger, that would be a separate issue from women completely, and they would deserve their own safe places to be and escape violence. They should not take away all resources to help women, and allow all men into women's changing rooms and bathrooms and prisons.

I'm pretty sure most people know that women are not allowed to talk about this. We are not allowed to speak our discomfort. If a woman says she is uncomfortable with any of that, transwomen (men) bombard her with rape threats, very descriptive rape threats involving their own penises. They also do this to any lesbian who says lesbians don't want to have sex with penises. Any woman who is a feminist. Any woman who wouldn't even call herself a feminist because that word takes a lot of courage to use, but who still speaks of helping women and ending sexist beliefs, or describes reality without pandering to make these men feel good.

I used to think the transgender social movement would bring us all leaps and bounds into a brighter future, but I really think it has dragged us all back far in time and rolled back women's rights and safety and respect many decades into the past. I used to think all those violent women-hating transwomen were just the rare bad apple, and most are good people who don't want to hurt women. But that list of transwomen that I described is every single one I've known in person. 8 out of 9 were extreme examples of the most misogynist of men. My experiences have made me wary now, and I can barely even picture in my imagination a transwoman saying the words "It's impossible to feel like a woman", or "Women deserve to be allowed to get together and talk about women's issues".

The misogynist slur TERF means: Dyke. Feminazi. Cunt. They all know this.

It pains me to see women being caught up in this social movement, clearly just trying to be polite and "politically correct", or seeking male approval. Most of them are insecure. I understand. But I wish they would speak up and be honest about the truth, and not just do whatever these men tell them they must do and say to avoid being called a TERF.

[falsehood-and-deceit]

Orange aide making logan very unhappy and uncomfy and the other sides beat up the orange side and then immediately comfort logan, who is very happy and smiling and being is giggly bby

i have never once considered u!orange, but i am seeing this ask and i am thinking.

Warnings: Unsympathetic orange, orange is Not Nice, sleep deprivation, starvation, logan angst, hurt/comfort, 

orange that acts nice and innocent when the others are around but when it's just him and logan he's dropping little things like "you must not be doing your job very well, the others never pay attention to you" or "why even bother showing up when you're just going to lose every argument"

 orange side that tries to manipulate logan into depending on him, and isolating logan from the others 

"they're so cruel to you, you don't deserve that"

 "i'm never going to treat you like that" 

"they're not good for you, why don't you spend some time with me instead?"

"i'm here for you, they're not." 

"janus is just lying to you, you know that, right?"

 "i'll never lie to you"

 but every time logan messes up, orange is right there to point it out and belittle him, then insists that he's "just trying to help" and "I'm not like them, why would you even say something like that?" 

 orange side that represents wrath and encourages logan to be more assertive and it starts out okay, but orange keeps insisting that he should be more violent because "they deserve it" and "if you won't get revenge, i will" 

 orange side that represents apathy and tells logan to care less, to ignore the others' feelings and just use them as a means to his ends. 

 orange side that represents obsession and drives logan to focus exclusively on one goal and ignore his other needs. you know, little things, like eating, socializing... sleeping. i like this one. sleep-deprived logan up for two days straight working on something, while orange sits with him and whispers little things like "just one more page" and "won't it feel nice to get this done?"

 but it's never getting done, there's always more to read, more to write, he's drowning in a room full of sheets of paper with ideas scrawled over them in messy cursive, his head hurting from staring at his computer screen, hungry and tired and drowning in work. orange says he should work for a few more minutes orange knows what's best, right? orange would never hurt him. but the pain in his head and his stomach says otherwise so he sneaks down to the kitchen for a snack, but he only finds the other sides. 

 they all gasp when they see him, paler than usual and clearly in pain. patton rushes to his side and roman pulls out his katana. virgil's eyeshadow is a shade darker than logan remembers and when he speaks, it's in his dark, almost demonic tone he used when he noticed remus in a video. "come on janus, remus," he says, standing up from the kitchen table. "let's go talk to orange."

 logan wakes up the next morning in his bed, the sheets made and his room cleaned, the other sides sleeping either in chairs, on the floor, or in remus' case, hanging through the open window, his front half inside logan's room, his legs hanging outside. patton wakes up first. 

"logan? are you awake?" he whispers.  

logan speaks, his voice hoarse and his throat dry. "i'm awake," he says. "where's orange?" 

 the rest wake up with a start at the sound of his voice. virgil and janus share a look. 

"back in the dark side of the mind palace." virgil says, getting up off the chair and stretching, wincing as his joints crack a little. 

 "yeah, we decided that he's less stable than the leaning tower of pisa!" remus chirps up happily, and the sheer hilarity of remus sleeping while hanging out a window, janus blinking blearily as he tries to wake up, and roman cuddling his katana while he slept occurred to logan, and he just starts laughing. 

 patton has a tendency to laugh even if he doesn't understand the joke, and starts giggling with him. 

 "what's so funny?" he chokes out between laughs and logan just doubles over and points at virgil with really terrible bedhead and eyeshadow smeared all over his face and janus, roman, and remus start cackling along with him, and suddenly everyone's laughing because it's been a really tiring week and they really, really needed this.

 they decide, through a unanimous vote, that today will be a relaxation day, so they all pile onto logan's bed to cuddle and watch studio ghibli movies, because sometimes coping is just you, your five closest friends, and kiki's delivery service.

 yeah idk if this is what you wanted but this is what my dumb brain thought of. i actually really like u!sides and would love to be sent your prompts. i'm chill with any u!side and will get your request done eventually, i swear. (anon who wanted a fluffy logince drabble with the prompt "i love carrying you" i swear i haven't forgotten about you, it's still in my drafts i just have to finish it) daily reminder that fic reqs are always open 

 hugs and kisses

~ theo

[ghostmartyr]

SnK 127 Thoughts

“Let us speak for 46 pages about how we still don’t actually have any real plan, we’re just all very against genocide (except Magath and Yelena) and very upset and feel like we should be doing something.”

The characters are sort of doing my job for me this month.

Maybe this whole post should just be illicit screencaps from Crunchyroll with me providing links and saying, ‘and here’s the panel that makes the point I whined about in this post here.’

That would probably provide more entertainment than whatever I’m about to come up with.

-sees the amount of swearing in the first section-

Hm.

First off, fuck Magath.

Like no, I’m sorry. This is not about what happened 2000 years ago. You know what it’s about? It’s about Marley sending in child soldiers to assault and rob a land that had caused literally no problems for 100 years. It’s about Marley doing this despite being aware of its own history, being that their personal hero collaborated with the First King of Paradis to make Marley’s independence possible.

You want to talk about history, Magath?

Jean isn’t the one who sounds like a child.

Jean is reacting to actual pain that he has experienced in his lifetime thanks to Magath’s very intentional military strategies.

Magath is blaming Jean and everyone else on the island for being born.

That is not equivalent.

That is not remotely equivalent, and while Eren is being a fucking bastard about it, Jean’s right. Eren has the power, means, and will to do all of this because of what Magath and Marley did to Paradis.

Magath doesn’t recognize Eldians as people.

The Eldian Empire was bad.

No one except Floch is disputing that. That is how you know that it is bad.

Marley, as well as the rest of the world, has been free from the Eldian Empire for over a hundred years, and in that time, all they have done is take every horrible thing about the Eldian Empire and exploit it for their own gains.

Magath doesn’t get to be angry that he lives off the backs of abused, brainwashed children that he treats like crap.

Years ago, the Eldian Empire was the worst terror in the world.

A year ago, it was Marley.

Now, it happens to be Eren.

And you know, I’ve been actively against pretty much everything Eren’s done. His plan, if he has one, has mostly managed to make everyone angry and get a lot of people killed who weren’t even involved in the beginning. He gets his head blown off close enough to his brother that he doesn’t die. That’s how the beginning stages of him committing genocide goes. He betrays his friends, makes his besties from childhood feel like crap, and honestly has just been a dick to pretty much everyone.

But at least Eren’s indiscriminate murder has the decency to actually be indiscriminate.

Marley takes children it despises and turns them into their willing slaves for the promise of a better life they have no intent of dispensing. They take these children, and full of hatred for the very ability, demand that they shorten their lifespan and murder people to prove that they’re a “good Eldian” who deserves to live.

Marley is why people can stomach rooting for Eren.

Because Marley is such an abomination that it almost feels worth it to destroy the world if it means Marley’s gone too.

Hell, I’m with Hange. There’s not an avenue where I accept genocide as a way to deal with any of this.

But if someone wanted to burn Magath alive, and we spent a dozen pages gloriously detailing his flesh curling off his bones, it would make me happy.

That’s a more dignified death than he’s given any of the children he’s forced into Marley’s wars.

He does not have the fucking moral high ground.

He's the one Jean should have punched. There is not a single person around that campfire that he has not damaged deeply, and noticing that Gabi is a little girl and he cares when she is in pain does not magically remove that.

Fuck Marley. Fuck Magath.

Grow the fuck up and stop viewing genocide as an acceptable response, you fucking halfwit child. You are the individual who saw four children off on their solitary mission to murder thousands of people. Two of them are dead. Two of them are deeply traumatized, with one of them wishing he had died.

But oh yes, Magath. You’re the victim, here.

Because you baited one angry idiot with the power of a god into destroying part of a city you didn’t give a damn about.

Truly, your justice is a thing to aspire to.

Perhaps Eren taking notes is the real reason we’re here.

Motherfucking fuck I hate Marley. I hate that Eren’s put any of these characters in the position where they have to put up with this shit for the sake of civility. I don’t have a problem with the Warriors. I don’t have a problem with the Survey Corps. I don’t have a problem with the kidlets. Hi Onyankopon, sorry about your life. Yelena has many problems, but she’s also attractive, so I don’t mind as much.

Magath, though.

Pieck, just eat him. Everyone’s too depressed to really throw down over it at this point, and the two small ones are so deeply traumatized that one more body really isn’t going to make much of a dent.

Jean’s clearly the star of this chapter, and a good deal of that comes from the potent hopelessness hovering over him like a rain cloud.

He can point to how bad everyone is at talking things out like it’s the key to the entire mystery, but the long list of problems Jean offers at the beginning of the chapter are still present. Unless they have a way to talk to every person in the world out of their (at this point, rather justified) fear and anger, Paradis and Eldians around the world are very much screwed.

Paradis has forever been running out of time against the hatred the rest of the world has for them.

They do have to fight against what Eren’s doing, and talking instead of blowing each other’s heads off is a good start, but it’s a good start thousands of years after the worst possible one.

And the last time they tried to talk to Eren, Armin punched him, and that was the most productive thing to come out of it.

Jean being the everyman who recognizes the heart of an average person because he is one has been a great tool. It’s still great, here. He wants to close his ears to all of this. He wants, desperately, to run away, because there is no good solution that doesn’t end in death.

When he joins the Survey Corps, they at least have Eren as a brand of hope. They can believe that years of the same tactics and bodies piling up won’t end the same way.

Joining this squad is all about stopping Eren, and despite having figured out their next course of action, no one has yet to provide a real idea.

Genocide is wrong, so you stand up and try to stop it.

That’s the only plan they have.

The Scouts from Paradis don’t even have the promise of saving the people they love if they stop Eren. Annie, Pieck, Gabi, Reiner, Falco... they have a home. The world might forget to hate them. They might get to go home and have a life after this.

The people sitting on the other side of the fire are fucking screwed. They’re fighting entirely for their principles.

...Also Yelena is here.

I do like Yelena.

She’s not the worst, because this manga has too many horrible people in it, but she’s delightfully terrible. I especially like how the fact that she’s actually from Marley hardly gives her any pause.

I do so like Yelena.

It’s a beautiful sentiment.

After all, everyone’s drunk on something.

If you can just save the world, what does the rest matter? What do the crimes that kept you awake at night mean, when you’ve accomplished something so miraculous? All the good deeds cleanse the rottenness, and maybe then the world rights itself and you can breathe again.

...Hey wait, where’s Reiner’s reaction shot to finding out Gabi killed Sasha?

...Did he even know Sasha was dead?

But I guess we’re doing Marco angst.

Wow. Marco angst in 2020.

I think my favorite thing about this chapter (outside of the fact that Mikasa still hates Annie and it makes me giggly because wow Mikasa) is that Annie does absolutely nothing while Jean’s beating the crap out of Reiner.

My less favorite thing is I’ve stopped enjoying Reiner getting the crap beaten out of him. It’s been done, and... really the kid just needs to have not been born into this particular life. Watching Jean beat him bloody is. not cathartic. It’s really just awful.

Annie dodging with her food is glorious, though.

Because while Jean beating up Reiner over Marco is sad and kind of miserable, Annie watching someone beat up Reiner after the years she spent putting up with Reiner and Bertolt brings it back to almost funny.

Until you look at Reiner’s face and go back to feeling bad.

-turns page back to Annie getting out of the way-

Much better.

Truly, I love Annie.

Her forgiveness status is interesting, though. I think besides Marco, she enjoyed more of the kills she’s responsible for than anyone feels a need to dig up.

She’s also been more alone than most of the others in the wagons, and essentially spent four years imprisoned for her crimes.

I’m not surprised she asked, because she’s Annie, but I’m a bit surprised we don’t have an answer yet. Probably too close to the end of the chapter to open up that can of worms.

If it makes everyone feel better, I think we know for a fact that Mikasa will never forgive Annie for anything, even if it only displays itself as petty brandishing of weapons every time they make eye contact.

It’s not even a ship thing.

I just love that Annie is the one person Mikasa can’t stand. They’ve been in one chapter together and Mikasa’s already pulling out swords. These two shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near each other. It’s perfection.

Then we get to plot complications that really don’t register as complications because like. Yeah, you guys need something to do while you figure out what the hell you’re doing.

Because you don’t actually have a real plan, just so we’re clear.

Killing Eren would result in all those Wall Titans operating under their own power.

That is not fundamentally less destructive.

Killing Eren has a nice ring to it, but much like talking to Eren, it does not solve any of the other problems looming ahead.

So you enjoy your little subplot with Floch!

It’s one of the last times your combined competence will have any meaning.

-looks over at Kiyomi-

Honest question, but why are you alive if Floch dislikes you enough to hold you hostage? If Eren’s gonna kill everyone, shouldn’t Floch be following suit and just do his Floch thing of murdering every slight inconvenience?

We’re in the boring stages of the finale right now.

No clear plan for either side to contend with. No real progress in any direction because the tiny squabbles are just a delaying tactic for the massive squabble that no one has an answer to. None of any of this chapter really matters except for clearing the air.

Which is not a useless investment, it’s just not very exciting.

At this point, no excitement is allowed, because there’s that One Huge Thing, and the entire story hinges on it. Maybe someone will die on the way to dealing with it, but that’s all the drama we’re going to get until we find out enough about the plot to have a future worth rooting for.

Right now, there is no good outcome for the people we’ve watched fight for 127 chapters.

Pulling a story along with that weight is hard, and I can feel my brain turning itself off until we’re back to a point where the story is permitted to address the stegosaurus in the room.

One more month.

Again.

Until something happens and we all regret everything.

[theelliottsmiths]

Thoughts on the Steh Auf making of please.

I ended up one-post liveblogging this to power past the embarrassment of it all hi not quite what you were asking but

Who does Zoran make me think of when he speaks English? He reminds me of someone and I cannot work out who it is.

Till looks so giggly and happy and I do love that. I do not understand why Peter T went for his thighs when the intention was so clearly for it to do his ass?

It must be really nice for Till, being able to be so silly on set. Usually it seems like silliness has to be tamed, especially for Rammstein videos (Mein Land is an outlier but he looked so uncomfortable the entire time), but here in the non horse parts they can just fuck around like kids.

"Peter [S]! This tongue thing is so important. I need it. I want it." Zoran for fucks sake.

I wish there was less Zoran and more Till but I get it, he doesn't love to dissect what he's doing with a camera in his face.

Till at around 3:40 looks like a little kid playing dress up his face is killing me

This is silly but I very much wish the cameras on some of these people were a little further back it feels too intimate when their faces are so close.

I love how much they've been going into the tech stuff. Don't get me wrong, I don't understand or remotely care about most of this stuff, but it's nice that they're being highlighted because they do a lot of hard work and without them what do you have? I'm sure a tonne of people appreciate the techy stuff in this and the F&M one.

Knowing horse actors (horses who are actors) exist will never cease to be the best thing about being alive in this timeline.

Till wearing a suit out there was a choice I don't quite understand did he not have any other clothes with him

Unfortunately I am feeling a kinship with Zoran, dates in other languages are the worst part I swear.

Tills mostly-fisting miming and the eye contact

Zoran revealing that he forgets Peter T is also there and just as much part of the band. We knew this but he admits to it now. He really doesn't

Multiple people just got a crying-laughing voice message about the way Zoran worded his nightmare thing. I did not know where it was going so when he said "it's coming again and again , it's me in the public" I fully lost my shit. I do not want to know about Zorans weird fantasies but I'm

Okay no I swear till has addressed things to people's dicks before I swear this is not the first time I've seen him talk directly to someones crotch.

"in any good video till has to die" maybe zoran... Is out of ideas.

Aw, Danny? Danny is less a bodyguard at this point and more an emotional support animal. He always looks so cool.

Good attention to health and safety there Zoran. The guy looks fine... Zoran seems to have enjoyed it. He in fairness did Fly.

Of course he wanted to be dragged by a pretty lady on a horse who wouldn't honestly

I've been thinking this entire time why aren't people hugging fluffy till like a massive teddy bear but there we go Peter S understands.

I really wish Till has been in Zorans place. Failing that, Peter T. I get it but it's a shame. I'm glad he had fun.

[hiddendreamer67]

Original Character List

I present to you, something Legendary! 😄 It’s so cute, like, oh my gosh, heh, hi! 

Guess what- I have Original Characters now! I’m listing them here to introduce you guys to the handful that exist already, because later I’m going to reblog a prompt list or two and I’m hoping to write some oneshots/drabbles with them to help my with character, plot, and world development. ☺️ 

Btw this world is totally gonna have gt elements but ironically everyone I’ve created so far is human-sized!  😅 And also I’m putting this list under a cut so that as I add people I can list them here as well. (And disclaimer, this is my initial ideas for these peeps, they still have the potential to evolve and change).

Human Characters

Prince Valentine, I think youngest son? - One of the princes in the TBD main human kingdom. The fae and mortals have been in an everlasting state of unrest and war for a long time now, and Valentine gets the idea to try out diplomacy. He hears of Garth/Cam’s friendship and decides to send them out since clearly they know what they’re doing! (They don’t.) Valentine is very energetic and a bit air-headed, he’s also ignorant in a lot of viewpoints because he was raised to believe fae are wild beasts and wants to control them. Later on he’ll get better and realize “Hey fae are people too...ish.” His family thinks his diplomacy mission is foolish but don’t care because he’s not sticking his own neck out.

Cornelius, prince’s main adviser- This wizard(?) is pretty much the only one in the entire castle who actually believes in this diplomacy mission and also is the only one keeping an eye on Valentine. He basically makes sure Garth and Cam are equipped with enough knowledge to not immediately die and helps filter missions as best he can.

Noemi, witch at the edge of the woods- She lives at a different edge than the Thornton family. I don’t know a lot about her yet except that she’s a mostly self-taught witch with a best fae friend (girlfriend?) named Witch Hazel. 

(I think the Thornton family all live in a house on the edge of town near a forest that was -recently?- inhabited by some of the flower fae)

Perth Thornton, father- Not much developed for him yet.

Marabelle Thornton, mother - Not much developed for her either! But both parents are at least alive.

Quill Thornton, eldest son - Perfect boy, start child, parent’s favorite. Sometimes siblings are jealous of him because of attention but they love him too because this guy is obnoxious in there’s not really a reason to hate him. The strong, brotherly type who volunteers around town to help others and is a good leader but listens more than he speaks. Fae relations unclear, I think flower fae generally like him too but idk how he feels about fae.

Bentley Thornton, second oldest son - He’s a good boy too, wants to be an academic but that’s not really in the family line of work. He’s more concerned w/ logistics than the rest of his family which can turn him into a frustrated/stressed wreck since he’s just trying to keep everything in check and good lord why am I the only rational sibling. Flower fae call him Sparrow because his heart always speeds up like a lil’ bird when they’re around since he’s naturally weary.

Garth Thornton, middle child - He’s the main character human, or he’s intended to be. He’s snarky. Spent a long while as the youngest kid and especially now that there’s a new baby he gets sorta left to his own devices, so naturally he ended up accidentally befriending a fae named Cam in the woods. He’s generally distrustful of fae and can feel like the only normal one who gets thrown or tugged into magical dangerous adventures. Flower fae call him Germ- that’s a fun story. ;) 

Posie Thornton, newborn baby sister -  She’s adorable and a baby. Flower fae call her Bud or Blossom because they love her and want her to be one of them so they basically lowkey made her an honorary flower. 

Fae Characters

So an important note: I haven’t fully developed all of the creatures and beings in this universe (feel free to ask if there’s any certain types or categories afoot & where they’d fall), but basically one category is the fae, who basically encompass all natural spirits and come in a variety of physical forms & sizes. There’s a lot of lore w/ fae in play but a big one is Names have power so you gotta use some sort of nickname.

The Winter Vale, King of Winter- Vale is a very powerful fae, controlling all of the winter court. He’s cold-hearted and a real awful dude. He has a few children he repeatedly neglects (@Thistle) and is known for stealing away flower fae to be his stolen brides and bring a spot of color to his chilly domain until inevitably they fade or he gets bored or they run away. Oof. 

Gaia, Queen of Spring- This is the mother of all flower fae; basically, Gaia slept around with pretty much every male fae and that’s why there are a million daughters. She did this because normally Spring can be weaker than Winter, but in large numbers she grew in power and children are more affiliated with whatever parent has more royal blood (so even if she weds a winter, the child will fall in the Spring Court). 

Flower Fae- lil’ bit o’ lore

The flower fae are a sub-branch of Fae; flower fae are all sisters, and they each call each other by a given flower name. They’re basically a lil’ cult of children; by nature, flower fae are curious and giggly and love to play games. Also flower fae are independent beings in that they can have their own outlooks on thing like, say, their opinion on mortals, but inherently they all share this sort of sisterly bond and are inclined to view other sisters fondly. (That comes into play especially w/ sisters spread across the globe, which should not be a thing b/c they thrive on togetherness but yeah some flower fae are kinda everywhere now? Also they aren’t immortal as in they’ve existed forever, they are born from a garden thing and they do have an age order and idk how many are in existence currently but they’re only limited in number by the amount of flower names I can discover. No way in hell have I characterized them all yet.)

Camellia (Cam), flower fae- This is my main girl, she’s the one who somehow manages to befriend Garth and sneak her way into his stony heart. Cam is the youngest of the flower fae when we meet her. She grows attached to Garth and basically becomes an overexcited puppy going on adventures. She’s occasionally viewed as a lil’ sister until she pulls some powerful magic out and everyone’s like “oh yeah nvm she can hold her own”. She’s easily distracted especially when it comes to being serious or mortal affairs. Also she’s got some natural weaknesses like cold and iron are not good for her so she turns a jittery mess in cities and a sleepy mess in the snow.

Uva Ursi, flower fae- She’s a lot more bristly than flower fae are typically known for (at least from Garth’s perspective), but she means well. Was separated from several of her sisters a long time ago but adapted well to the cold. Has a little bit of control over winter elements, due to her relations with The Winter Vale. She was his bride to replace Nightshade and certainly has a complicated past and somehow ended up in the desert for a bit.

Nightshade, flower fae- A previous flower fae gone rogue/evil, basically she was a bride to Vale and managed to escape but went insane. She’s now an assassin and I don’t know all the details but is very encouraging of getting flower fae to join her... cause? Basically it’s a rebel flower fae group who just want to mess life up for others and get vengeance.

Baby’s Breath, flower fae- The true infant of the sisterhood; she’s born after Camellia and is the epitome of ‘baby’. 

Thistle, flower fae- Daughter of Vale and Gaia (King of Winter and Queen of Spring). She is the only flower fae who actually falls into the Winter Court, and as such is accepted by neither. Has SEVERE daddy issues because her father will never accept or love her. But, on a more surface level note, she’s a mischievous little sprite who’s very sarcastic and snarky.

Rose, flower fae- She is the. First. Flower fae, and will never let you forget it. There is a whole clan of ‘roses’ (Primrose, Petite rose, Tea rose, etc.) but Rose is THE Rose. She’s very vain, and thinks she’s mom’s favorite; that might actually be true. Rose does love her sisters but she is not nearly as devoted to them all as is typical of flower fae.

Lily, flower fae- She’s another original flower fae who has a clan of her own  (Tiger Lily, Calla Lily, etc.) but is not nearly as iconic as Rose. She does tend to be a good motherly figure for the flower fae still in the home garden, especially since Gaia is not an attentive mother. At the very least she’s a responsible older sister.

Witch Hazel, flower fae- Hazel found the human witch Noemi and pretty much instantly fell in love (romantically or platonically tbd), so much so that she decided to leave the flower fae sisterhood behind to stay permanently with Noemi and only occasionally comes back to visit. She’s very sweet and a bit uneducated but still wants to do whatever she can to help her witch succeed.

Azalea, flower fae- Way down the road, this is Bentley’s fae girlfriend! In the meantime though, she’s an older sister of Cam’s who’s a bit of a brash, sassy personality but she means well. Is actually a bit nervous about the idea of Cam going into the world of mortals.

...I think that’s everything? Kinda info dumped there, I hope this was at least interesting for some of you. Thank you for reading this list! Feel free to send me any questions you have or let me know if something was unclear!

[chanbangblog]

ive only felt religion when ive lied with you- 6

A/N: (smut, Chan x reader, Canon compliant, fan/idol)

You were looking out your hotel window at the city lights illuminating the sky. The sun had set and you were in awe of the breathtaking display of the city at night. Your thoughts, of course, drifted to Chris after a while. He was all you had thought about for the past 24 hours straight. Oh, how much can change in a day. You sat and pondered the thought.

A day ago you were just a normal fan excited for the concert. A day ago you were dreading the flight home and thinking about work to do when you got back. A day ago you hadn’t seen the way the morning sun lit up his face. A day ago you hadn’t felt him electrify every inch of skin he touched. A day ago you hadn’t heard him whisper your name in the dark. A day ago you hadn’t felt the way his muscles twitched as he slept. A lot can change in a day.

Robyn was still asleep. You both had been zombies getting off the plane and getting to the hotel had been a struggle, no matter how excited the two of you were about being there. Chris had told you they had rehearsal and he would talk to you afterward. Would you ever get used to this? Speaking so casually with him and somehow feeling like it was normal? You weren’t sure.

Every time you thought about the night before, your face would heat up and you would immediately get butterflies in your stomach. Well, butterflies was putting it nicely. A better description would be immediately feeling your stomach drop along with feeling light headed and an impending sense of doom. But in the best way possible. You’d had “sex flashbacks” before but this was on another level.  

To be fair, this was no ordinary experience, no guy had ever made you orgasm that fast, especially it being the first time you all had had sex. Normally you were really nervous and it made it harder for you to have an orgasm. But not this time. Chris had gifted you with multiple orgasms and it had your head spinning each time you recalled them.

You tried to tell yourself this is why you were so enamored by him. It wasn’t because you actually had developed feelings for him, it wasn’t because he was an idol or celebrity, it was because he was ridiculously good in bed. That’s what you told yourself. Over and over.

You moved away from the window, your thoughts had started getting the best of you and you needed a distraction. You plopped down on the bed opposite Robyn and pulled up Youtube. Your homepage was full of Stray Kids videos that were recommended for you.

“Nope.” You said, out loud. You were trying not to dwell on him and this certainly wasn’t helping. You clicked off the app immediately and suddenly heard a knock at the door.

You immediately knew who it was and was frozen in panic. You looked over at Robyn and threw a pillow at her while lunging toward the bed.

“Robyn!” you whispered franticly, “Chris is here!”

Robyn peered up at you with confused but then knowing eyes.

“Well you better go answer the door,” she said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world and not something that was making you so anxious you felt like you were about to vomit.

You opened the door, anticipation building in your stomach.

“Hey what’s up?” you asked before you got a chance to get a good look at him.

He was again wearing his signature black tshirt and sweatpants, his hair was wet again from the shower and tousled, still sticking to his head in some places. They must have had some stage makeup on for whatever reason at rehearsal because you could see where he hadn’t completely washed all off it off. Some it still messily smeared under his eyes. But his smile was the most remarkable part, slightly crooked and extending all the way to his eyes when he looked at you.

He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. You took a step forward without thinking and wrapped your arms around his neck and closed your eyes tight, wanting to live in this moment forever. This moment where Chris had come to your door and smiled when he saw you open it.

He gasped at your sudden movement, it had clearly surprised him but he only paused a millisecond before hugging you back, arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing impossibly tight.

“Ah, good to see you too!” Chris laughed in your ear.

You opened your eyes and you came face to face with a very wide eyed Jisung standing right behind Chris. You hadn’t even noticed him standing there, you had been so absorbed Chris.

You recoiled when you saw him and smiled, saying hello. He simply laughed and shook his head playfully in response.

“Come in, both of you!” you said, walking back toward the door where Robyn was standing.

“Well, we have an idea.” Chris said, something about his voice made you suspicious, as he gave you the most devilish grin.

  “Yah! Hyung-“ and then Hyunjin broke into a bout of Korean you couldn’t possibly understand.

Not that you mind. You wish with everything in you that you could speak Korean and you really had tried to learn, and still do. It’s just with work and everything else in your life, you couldn’t spend as much time on it as you would like, so your progress was slow. You could at least say hello, goodbye, help me etc. But no way would you be able to carry on a conversation.

So when you found yourself on the hotel rooftop with 9 people who are very fluent in Korean, you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed and out of place. Luckily, Robyn was in the same situation as you.

This was Chris and Jisung’s grand idea, to eat dinner and drink on the rooftop of the hotel with the rest of the group. Drink, meaning, alcohol, which you didn’t think they did. You had heard about Chris’s no drinking rule for the group during their first year after debut.

But here you were, sitting in a circle, eating pizza with Stray Kids and your bestfriend while they argued over what drinking games to play. You looked over at Chris, feeling lost as they were all arguing, asking him to fill you in on what was going on.

“Well, we don’t let any of the maknaes drink the night before a show, so Hyunjin is arguing that he doesn’t need to be included in that. BUT, it’s the rule that you have to be born in 1999 or above to drink, so that’s why Changbin looks so smug right now and Hyunjin is furious.” Chris said expertly.

Changbin did look smug, he was sitting next to Felix, of course, and they were laughing about God knows what. Minho was sitting on the other side of him, then Jisung, who was touching knees and chatting with Robyn animatedly, while including Minho in on the conversation. Jeongin and Seungmin were playing rock paper scissors over who got the last slice of pizza, while Hyunjin and Woojin continued the heated debate over drinking rules while Chris was distracted by you.

“Well that’s not very fair,” you said, “how are they supposed to play drinking games if they can’t drink? It’s not fair to just have them sit and watch us play.”

 “Oh they can play, it’s just when they lose or would have to drink, one of us has to,” Chris grinned, “so it gets things going pretty fast.”

“Well you better get something going because Hyunjin and Woojin look like they’re about to go at it” you observed, amused.

“Yah-“ Chris called everyone’s attention and started explaining what you assumed were the rules in Korean. You made eye contact with Robyn who looked equally lost and waited for one of them to explain to the both of you.

“Have you heard of Never Have I Ever?” Chris looked to you and Robyn to ask. Of course you had. But you suddenly felt like this was going to get very awkward or embarrassing very quickly if you stayed sober. You were tempted to go ahead and take a shot at the thought.

“Oh yes!” Robyn said, “This is going to get interesting!”

“Okay!” Chris said, “Don’t look so nervous y/n or do you have something to hide?” he said jokingly, slipping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing. Your stomach dropped at his simple gesture.

Oh, me? Nothing to hide. Except the fact that I’m weirdly obsessed with you after what I thought would be a one night stand and feel like a giggly teenager holding hands with someone for the first time every time you freaking touch me.

“No not at all,” you purred, leaning into his embrace, “let the games begin.”

[sugagimmesugar]

Sunshine Dancer Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Pull me closer, cause I changed my mind.

CW: Alcohol, some strong language, some sexual subjects

Masterlist here

It takes him a while to tear his eyes away from yours, instead trying to find his phone. As he picks it up, the ringing stops, the call already dropped. Smiling up at you, he opens his mouth, as if to say something, before being interrupted by the ringing, again. Laughing, you motion for him to pick up.

“Yes? Already here…… Great. Yea, I’ll buzz you in gimme a sec.”

It’s a very short call, his eyes never leaving you as he talks to his friend on the other end. The guys are early. For once. Of course, the one night where being late would be ok, or even good, that’s the one night were Jimin isn’t late. It almost feels like the universe is sabotaging your impure intentions. Hoseok moves towards the door, buzzing in his classmates and friends. In the meantime, you decide to pump up the music volume and get the guys their usual drinks ready, might as well make yourself useful while you wait for them to come up. The elevator is out of order and you live on the fourth floor, so you should have a few minutes.

*I wasn’t really sure about us But now I’m pretty sure about us Ooh, pull me closer Cause I changed my mind*

As you take some beers and ciders out of the fridge, the chorus of one of your favourite songs hits and you can’t help but swaying along, your eyes closed as you put down the drinks on a table. Suddenly, there’s hands on your hips, a forehead against yours, someone joining in your slow dance around the apartment. Your bodies pressed against each other, you can feel his breath against your skin, smelling the drinks he has already had as you wrap your arms around his neck, your hand in his hair. In time with the song lyrics, he pulls you closer, a small smile on his lips as he meets your eyes. You see the way his eyes flit between your eyes and your lips, the question almost audible. But before either one of you can actually make a move, Jimin and his friend Taehyung burst through the door, laughing and breathless, looking like they actually raced up the stairs.

“Oh! Is it finally happening? Y/n and Hobi? Friends to lovers? After all these years of pining?” Jimin laughs as the two of you rip apart as quick as lightning. Your eyes on your best friend, you ignore the younger man’s joke, just trying to figure out how to actually move on from what just *almost* happened. All of a sudden, Hoseok is refusing to meet your eyes, instead he barks out a laugh, greeting his friends as the rest of the group starts pouring in. “Just shut up and get your drinks, I wanna go out dancing and we all know you need some alcohol to actually function at a club.” He slaps Jimin’s shoulder, a bit too hard for it to be just friendly, his eyes confirming your suspicion. Hoseok is mad. And as soon as Jimin sees it, he turns to you, to where the drinks are, a mild panic now in his eyes.

All in all, there’s 6 friends other than you in Hobi’s closest friend group. There’s Jimin and Jungkook who go to the same programme as Hoseok does. They’re dancers. Then there’s Taehyung, as far as you know he’s an art student and Jimin’s best friend, so he always gets dragged along. He is sweet and quiet and seems sometimes overwhelmed by the energy of the dance-hoes (as they call themselves), while other times he just joins in, a giggly mess of shenanigans when he is the mood. Somehow, Hoseok met Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi, even though they run in very different circles. Namjoon a history major, Jin a professional chef and Yoongi a music producer in his first year out of Uni, they somehow ended up in this mess of a clique.

Tonight, only the chaotic one’s came. Namjoon stayed home with some essay while Yoongi just straight up refused. They rarely join in the dancing and going out part of the friendship. You send Yoongi a quick text, jokingly annoyed with him for leaving you alone with a bunch of chaotic drunks. You hear Tae and Jimin giggling at some Dad-joke Jin said as you, for the second time this night already, get surprised by someone’s hands on your waist. You turn to face what you expect to be Hoseok, but are even more surprised to find Jungkook, his eyes dark as he is obviously already drunk. “I love this dress on you, y/n. You look tasty as all hell.” He says, his eyes focused solely on your lips as he pulls you a little closer. With a small laugh, you pinch his cheek: “Aw, thank you, Kookie! I bought it today and I think it’s already one of my favourite dresses.” Looking over the younger man’s shoulder, you see Hoseok, slowly meandering towards where the two of you are standing, an angry frown on his face. You’ve seen Hoseok angry many times, but he’s never been this… possessive about you. So you decide to save Jungkook from your old friend’s wrath. With a featherlight touch and a big smile, you remove his hands from your waist and decide to show off your favourite part of the dress. Twirling a little to show off the flowy skirt, you bump into Hoseok, his muscular arm suddenly on your shoulder. “How ‘bout some water for the baby? I don’t want them to not let him into the club.” He smirks at you, teasing his friend with the loathed nickname. “Oh come on, you know he hates that nickname. Don’t be a dick just cause the alcohol has you feeling possessive all of a sudden.” A playful hit against his side, a smirk and you leave Hobi alone too. You don’t know what’s gotten into you as you sit down next to Tae instead, his calm energy a much needed relief from the tension between you and Hoseok as well as Jungkook and Hoseok, who are still in the kitchen, lowly arguing it seems. A few minutes later, the boys come to join the rest, Hoseok with an almost triumphant looking smile on his face as he winks at you, the younger one avoiding your looks as he plops down next to Jin, a glass of water in his hand. Hoseok takes his place standing behind you, one of his hands lightly massaging your neck, as he tends to do so often. As you lean in to the touch more, ignoring the looks from your friends, Hoseok suddenly speaks: “Okay my dudes and dudette. Next bus downtown goes in 15 minutes. I wanna go to a new club, is everybody ready?” The guys whoop with excitement in answer, already moving to chug their drinks or fix their outfits and hair. You just lean back further, smiling up at Hobi, who in turn winks at you, letting go of your neck to boop your nose. “Get your stuff, I don’t wanna miss the bus. I need your help herding these idiots.” You decide to borrow Hoseok’s leather jacket since you’re dressing for coverage rather than warmth. It’s early summer so the nights are warm but walking around in a revealing dress is still not a great idea, even if you’re accompanied by 5 men. As he sees you adjusting your bag over the bulky jacket, the look in his eyes is anything but platonic. His eyes full of hunger, a blush creeps on your cheeks, making you have to turn away from him before you make your way to the apartment door. “Ok fellas, is everyone ready? Then let’s go.” You hold the door open as they all make their way out, each with a drink for the way to the club in their hand as you hear their conversations and laughter sound through the corridor while they make their way towards the stairs. Last one out is Hoseok, who waits until everyone has disappeared into the staircase to pull you back into the flat and slam the door shut. Before you can say anything, his hands are cupping your cheeks, his eyes suddenly soft. “Please don’t go home with anyone else tonight, y/n. I like you. Just come back home with me. Please.” He’s… begging you. The surprise must be written on your face, a dry laugh escaping his throat as he continues: “You didn’t know? I have liked you for years…. You know, they say alcohol makes you stupid or brave. I guess it’s made me stupid tonight.” He pulls away, running his hands through his hair as he turns his back to you. “I never meant to ruin our friendship, I am so sorry. Just... forget what I said… I just thought.. After today...After the song earlier... And then the dancing… That maybe I am not completely delusional in hoping you might see me as more than just a friend. I am sorry, y/n.” He rambles on, clearly distressed by your silence. “Alcohol makes you stupid or brave. That’s what you said, right? Then look at me Jung Hoseok. Don’t just assume you know my answer after dropping a bomb like that on me.” With a sad laugh, he turns to you, his hands on the back of his neck as his eyes are wide with emotions and alcohol. You take a step towards him, a tentative smile on your lips before you pull him towards you by his T-shirt. Your lips crashing into his, you feel a smile spread across his lips and his hands grabbing at your waist. Finally pulling apart, both of you laugh. And then his phone rings, which only makes you laugh harder. With a small peck on your lips, he accepts the call, a broad smile still on his lips. “What is it Jimin?” You can hear the other man’s answer as he must be yelling into the phone. “If y’all wanted to get us out of the flat so you could fuck you could’ve just said so. Now come down so we don’t miss the damn bus. I am not waiting a half hour for the next one.” Hoseok's eyes widen, the realization of the time already stressing him. “Oh crap, we’re on our way.” Hoseok grabs your hand as he shoves the phone in his pocket with the other hand, takes out the keys and locks the door behind the two of you without letting go of your hand for a second. After a quick look at your shoes he grins at you. “Good, you can run in those. We only have 5 minutes until the bus comes, and I really wanna dance with you at the club as soon as possible.” You laugh and after another quick peck, the two of you are almost sprinting down the stairs.

[artificialqueens]

Cause I give you all -Pt1- (Trixya) - Pichitinha

A/N: hi i am back with another fic bc i have no self control whatsoever! this is a three part story that was originally a one-shot but it made more sense to split. it’ll be finished soon bc the last part is almost done so! i will now go back to owl to see if ch4 accepts it has to be written. this is a very casual story, i hope you enjoy it! as always i am @pichitinha on this hell site and I have posted this on AO3.

It isn’t often that they get the night off when touring. Thinking about how tired and lacking months of proper sleep Trixie is, she strongly considers staying in the five star hotel they’re in and sleeping the best sleep she knows she’s had in months, but at the end of the day she knows she gets a good amount of free time on the tour bus, even if sparse and uncomfortable, and she hasn’t had fun in a long time. So she showers away her laziness, gets dressed in nice clothes and her own make-up, and goes in search of a bar.

It’s apparently the only bar in town and it’s really crowded with the most redneck crowd Trixie’s ever seen. There are large bearded men and strong women and as soon as she enters she can spot at least five people arm wrestling on tables filled with empty gigantic glasses. The smell of beer is strong and so is the smell of bacon and she turns her nose.

She finds an empty stool by the end of the counter in the middle of two couples heavily making out and she sits down with her eyes fixed on the bottles in front of her, tries to tune out the sexual noises coming from each of her sides. She truly found the most heterosexual bar in the state.

Maybe she should have chosen her sleep.

She orders herself a beer - when in Rome, right? - and sips at it slowly, lets her eyes unfocus as they stare at the bottles and her mind wonder.

She’s so tired. She hasn’t picked up her guitar in three months. She washes her hair once a week only and it’s starting to show. Her favorite clothes are now all worn out. Her make-up kit is getting way too close to being empty.

But she loves it. Touring with a country legend as a backup singer is something Trixie never thought would be so satisfying, but it is. She’s friends with her which is something she couldn’t even dream of when she was a kid, and she gets to experience the ups and down of the famous life up close. She’s doing what she loves, earning good money with it, and she’s at the best point of her life so far.

She just lets herself wonder, sometimes, when it will end. Not in a bad way but not in a good way either. Is this how it’s going to be, forever? Always on busses, from city to city, hotel to hotel, in the shadows of someone else’s spotlight? Will she ever stop somewhere long enough to find someone to build a life with? Does she even want to settle down?

She doesn’t, particularly, not in the white picket fence with 2.5 kids kind of way. But she does in the having a loving wife who cares for her and wants to share a life together kind of way. Trixie’s in love with the idea of being in love, and she knows she’ll always be.

She finishes her beer and asks for another one. There’s no point in going back to the hotel, even if she’s not mingling in any way. She might as well drink as much as she hasn’t been able to while touring, and sleep in until noon or later since they have a show in that same town the next evening so they have no plans for a few hours.

And then she takes one more look around, tries to figure out if there’s anyway at all she could fit in with anyone, and she spots a blonde woman at the other end of the long counter, sipping on a beer alone, her posture similar to Trixie’s. She might be projecting or reading what she wants to read, but everyone else is very ingrained in the place’s vibe and the two of them are the only ones completely isolated.

Trixie’s not saying the woman’s a lesbian. But Trixie isn’t saying she isn’t. There’s just that face when you know you’re the only gay person in the middle of a clearly non-accepting space and, well, that’s what Trixie’s seeing.

It’s worth trying, right?

She asks for an extra beer and moves over to where the woman is, spots an empty stool by her left side and slides swiftly into it. The woman doesn’t notice, so Trixie decides she has nothing to lose and slides the new bottle of beer in front of her. She blinks three times before coming back to her senses and looking over at Trixie.

She grins widely and Trixie melts a bit. Her teeth are displayed in the most symmetrical smile she’s ever seen and they are extremely shiny and white except for the small red mark on her front one where her lipstick probably brushed and she didn’t notice. It makes her look a bit dorky and it’s a look that definitely suits her.

“Hi,” the woman says, grabs the beer without breaking eye contact or letting her smile drop. “Is this for me?” She motions the bottle, sips at it before even getting an answer. Trixie’s half convinced her old bottle still has beer inside.

Trixie shrugs, drinks her beer as well before answering. “I was a bit lonely over there and I saw you a bit lonely over here, thought we could drink together?”

The woman smiles wider, her tooth still a bit red, and nods a little before adjusting in her seat so she’s half facing Trixie. Trixie can’t tell her intentions, isn’t fully sure if she’s just glad that she has a girl talking to her instead of a creepy guy, but whatever. At the very least she’ll share a few beers with a pretty woman before heading back to her hotel.

“I’m Katya,” she offers as she extends her hand, her short nails painted the same red shade as her lips. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Trixie,” she replies as she shakes her hand, small and pointy. “And you’re welcome.”

They cling their bottles together, cheers, they say, and take a sip together, eyes interlocked.

Maybe she’d been right in going out tonight.

*

There’s a table in the corner where a couple seemed intent on doing as much as they could without having to remove their clothes and Katya convinced Trixie to bet on when they’d leave and how far they’d go before doing so.Trixie is looking at them very attentively - probably creepy - waiting for her phone to beep indicating Katya’s time is up and she’s won. She has five minutes left and then she wins. They haven’t agreed on what the winner gets yet, but she just doesn’t like losing.

“One of them is gonna end up finishing right there in the next two minutes and then they’ll leave,” Katya says over her shoulder, pulling her attention back. Her tooth is still not clean and Trixie kind of doesn’t want to tell her at all. It’s nice to see a flaw in her, honestly.

“First of all, ew! We want that table so I truly hope they don’t.”

“When will you ever have the chance again to say that you’ve lived through an experience like this? Live life, Trixie!”

Trixie snorts, looks back at the couple and her timer - she’s two minutes away from winning.

“I am living life to the fullest, thank you very much.”

Katya’s eyes sparkle a bit. She seems interested in Trixie, in what she has to say and even what she doesn’t have to say. It’s odd to receive all that attention, but it’s thrilling too.

“Tell me about it. What are you living like?”

“I’m a singer. I mean, a backup singer at the moment. But I do sing and play guitar sometimes, on bars and stuff. Or I used to, before touring.”

Katya nods, her eyes wide as she gives Trixie her undivided attention. “That sounds fascinat- I won!”

She exclaims as she points to the couple getting up and sure enough Trixie’s timer is thirty fucking seconds away from beeping.

“Fuck me,” she whispers in frustration and Katya doesn’t miss a beat.

“Actually I get to choose what you have to do since I won the bet but I’m okay with that.”

Trixie laughs loudly, Katya’s smile is shiny and the little mark still there.

“Maybe if you learn to clean your teeth after you apply lipstick.”

Katya’s hand move to her mouth to brush against it. “Shit.”

*

She’s not sure how they ended up in a park at 2AM, both of them having had one too many bottles of beer before leaving the bar, but here they are. Trixie’s at the talkative phase of her drunkenness and she’s sure she’s shared way more than she should with a complete stranger, but this is something tomorrow her will worry about. Today her is blissfully out of her mind, giggly and in good company.

“Ok so how does one reach the ripe age of twenty-seven speaking five languages?” Trixie asks as they stumble through the empty and quiet park, their healed steps and loud voices echoing through the trees.

“I don’t speak five languages, spanish and italian are like child level knowledge at most,” Katya replies with raised eyebrows, as if that makes any difference, as if Trixie isn’t immensely impressed by that anyway.

“I get that, my english is at a child’s level as well,” Trixie retorts, thinks she’s being funny but honestly she’s far too drunk to be sure.

Katya laughs though, loud and clear in the night sky, enough to send the birds flying from the tree tops near them.

“Hey, it’s not your fault you’re from Wisconsin!” she finally says, and now Trixie’s the one screaming, her hand hitting Katya’s arm playfully.

“You bitch,” she says jokingly, and Katya gets it because her eyes are sparkling and they stumble closer to each other, one practically leaning on the other as their breaths mingle.

There’s a beat of silence in which Katya licks her lips, and then she murmurs, “By the way, I’m like, really really gay.”

Somewhere in the back of Trixie’s mind she knows the setting is intimate - they’re practically embracing, faces close, eyes interlocked - but the way Katya says it just makes a loud bubbly laughter leave her lips as she takes one step back to ground herself.

“Girl, me too!”

*

It’s 4AM and they’re at a 24 hour diner, most of the alcohol evaporated from their system although Trixie’s skin is still buzzing. They’re seated facing each other in a corner booth, there are quite a number of customers for the time, but everyone is talking quietly and it’s really peaceful. They each have a mug of steaming coffee in their hands and even though they’d looked at each other’s eyes all night, Trixie’s just now realizing Katya’s eyes are green.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” she says then, doesn’t really realize she’s doing so. She’s forgotten bits and pieces of everything she’s told Katya all night, but that’s more related to how dumb some of these things were and how many than to them being drunk. She likes it though, feels comfortable with her. With the pretty, beautiful lesbian with whom she spent the entire night and has yet to kiss.

Katya smiles at the compliment, and Trixie realizes she hasn’t complimented her smile all night. It’s really pretty. She’s really pretty. Trixie is still amazed that they’re hanging out.

“Thank you. All of you is really pretty,” she says back, and Trixie bites down on her lower lip. She’s not one for one night stands usually, but she is on a long tour where there aren’t really any other options and is it even a regular one night stand after they’ve spent the whole night together? Technically yes, she knows, and technically she’s not even certain Katya wants to sleep with her, but at the end of the day she knows that all she wants is to finish this day in a bed with Katya. It can be her hotel room, it can be Katya’s hotel room - she’s travelling too, she learned, she’s a photographer following some models for a project, and what astounds Trixie the most is that she’s not one of the models herself - it can be anywhere really. She’s really drawn to Katya, more so than she usually is to any strangers - are they still strangers by now? - and she knows she deserves it.

She squirms in her seat, thinks of the proper way to put this question out there, but then Katya cuts her off with a question in a completely different direction.

“So, where you heading next?”

“Somewhere close, I think. I never remember the schedule.”

Katya raises her eyebrows. “Really? And how does that work?”

Trixie shrugs. “I just get there and go to the stage and sing I guess? I recognize several of the cities and sometimes I’ll explore for a couple of hours if we can but mostly I just sleep, it’s a really tiring routine.”

Katya seems baffled and Trixie feels like she’s done something wrong for some reason.

“Seeing new places is my favorite part of touring. I’ll gladly give up sleep if I can see something I’ve never seen before.”

“I mean, after the fourth town with the same hay stacks and trees it gets old, you know,” Trixie jokes into her cup of coffee, trying to find her ground again. She’d been so comfortable seconds ago.

Katya laughs, but her heart isn’t fully in it. God, had Trixie somehow ruined this? She’s not even sure how.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m a photographer. I usually find beauty everywhere I go.”

“Oh,” Trixie says, doesn’t know what else she could say.

“Sorry, it wasn’t meant to sound pretentious like that. And I’m not judging you or anything. I’m just… I don’t know, it’s nice finding these little differences, isn’t it? We’ve been so similar all night.”

They have. Their similar sense of humor is something that made them hit it off instantly. But also realizing that they travel so much, live the same home is nowhere lifestyle had been a major point. It never occured to Trixie they might perceive it so differently.

“Yeah, of course,” she responds, although she isn’t sure it is. Meeting Katya had felt like fate, but now she isn’t so sure.

But then Katya’s hand slide across the table and holds tightly onto hers.

“My hotel is really close. Do you want to crash with me?”

Trixie knows what she means, and most of her worries disappear as she looks into her eyes. She nods and they get up together, Katya’s hand clasps onto hers and the only time she lets go is when they’re inside the room and she needs it to unzip Trixie’s dress.

*

Trixie goes back to her hotel room late in the afternoon with Katya’s number in her phone, a bite mark on her left hip, and the song I Put A Spell On You by Annie Lennox from Katya’s alarm stuck in her head.