#when i first found out about some details though—i genuinely pondered whether or not the dev actually knew japanese /j

[anderscim]

✦ language, sentence structure and footnote #5 in the new DRDT MV

//spoilers for the new “Literature Girl Insane” music video posted by DRDT

//also spoilers for DRDT up to chapter 2 part 1

i think i’m pretty clever for using this frame, am i right? (-∀-)

alright, here is my 2k+ word rant regarding some things i noticed with the word order and translations in the new video—as well as its connections with some of the footnotes.

(take all of this with a grain of salt)

i noticed recently that the DRDT dev pays very, very close attention to lyrics and lyrical structure in japanese—and that is seen in the way they order certain words.

let’s take this screen, for example:

i’m not sure if you all noticed, but in this part, the lyrics show up in a very specific order.

instead of each word appearing in an order similar to how you would read it in english (“look, aside from that, give me the usual medicine”), they do this:

look -> aside -> from that ->the -> usual -> medicine -> give me

and surprisingly, this isn’t random. the words appear in an order that aligns with the sentence structure for the japanese lyrics.

in japanese, the lyrics are as follows:

「ほら、/ それより / いつもの / 薬 / を出して」

if you translate these separately, “medicine” (薬) comes before “give me” (出して, in this context), “the usual” (いつもの) comes before that—and so on and so forth. interestingly enough, the dev subtly threw that detail in the video, instead of just going by the alignment of the english translation.

and, if you didn’t know, in many cases (more often than not), japanese sentence structure wildly differs from english sentence structure—which is exactly what makes it so hard to translate. (;- -)

this also happens in other spots, by the way! here’s another example:

“even if you have a heart full of ambition” appears in reverse order here—but that’s also because of japanese sentence structure.

“向上/の/心/だって/持ったって” -> “ambition/of/heart/even/if you have” this is a rough translation by the way sorry (_ _;)

i can come up with more examples if needed, so let me know (*´ω`*)

however, this isn’t the only way that the dev is being attentive to specific details in japanese. they also seemed to be aware of some literary references that were legitimately within the lyrics, and put their own spin onto it.

for example, this:

at first, the (turbatus) may seem out of place, but trust me, it isn’t. the original japanese lyrics also reference “ego cogito ergo sum” (i think, therefore i am), but put their own spin onto it—the dev somehow managed to translate the lyrics in a way that kept the same modification.

the japanese equivalent to “ego cogito ergo sum” is as follows:

“我思う故に我あり”

however, the japanese lyrics for bungaku shoujo insane put a small modification to the very end:

“我思う故に悩み”

悩み (nayami) is to be worried/troubled/etc.²¹

but basically, the dev also managed to keep that same modification by adding “turbatus” (which translates to “disturbed, disoriented, upset”) to their rendition of the lyrics. though this is me speaking from personal experience, 悩み usually has a different (more lighthearted and flexible) connotation compared to something as heavy as turbatus—so i wonder if this specific word choice might be telling us a lot more.

…okay that was a huge tangent. moving on. what i basically wanted to say is, well… the DRDT team is very attentive and pays very close attention to minor details in japanese, and a lot of it is actually successfully conveyed in their video. however, this pretty much indicates that anything they “botch” in the translation is intentional.⁵ (i’ll get to that later.)

buuuut before we get to that, how ‘bout i switch topics to something else: there is one specific part that they weren’t able to manipulate the translation, even if they wanted to.

i think you know which few frames i’m referring to.

(the other two have the same issue as well, but these first two are easier to explain.)

the thing is, the reason why there’s no translation here is that there’s no way to translate these lyrics without messing up the original japanese sentence structure.

let me break it down. “革命家” (kakumeika) is the japanese translation for a revolutionary. Xander, as the ultimate rebel, is the perfect image for this. “気取り” (kidori) is used in this context to mean that they’re “pretending to be / having the air of” a revolutionary, rather than actually being one.

“馬鹿” (baka) is “idiot,” “鉛” (namari) is lead (as in the metal), “切符” (kippu) is “ticket,” and “与える” (ataeru) in this context is “to give” (but more in a “feeding something to a pet” context than an actual “gifting something to a person” context). “与えよう” (ataeyou) is just a different tense, as in “let’s give,” and so on and so forth.

however, if you were to translate these two lines into english, this is what you would get (rough translation):

“let’s give the idiots pretending to be revolutionaries tickets of lead.”

my brain is fried so i can’t go too far into details right now, but essentially, the translation completely switches around the sentence structure and jumbles the order of the words. if the dev wanted to specifically distribute the lyrics to those two frames in a way that fit those specific images, they would have to warp existing grammar rules and write something that’s… well, obscure. my horrible attempt at a literal translation with the same structure: “assuming the air of revolutionaries / these idiots, tickets of lead should be given to them.” however, this would be too obscure and it gives this lyric a largely different tone (_ _;) especially since david probably doesn’t want to call xander an idiot (/hj) the lyrics would have been extremely difficult to rewrite while getting a similar message across, it was actually more fitting to instead keep the original japanese lyrics and fit them to the two frames in a way that best mirrors each character. …by the way, this is part of the reason why i was (jokingly) suspecting whether or not the dev was actually japanese. some of their attention to wording, sentence structure… even if they’re not japanese, they’re insanely dedicated. massive kudos to them. o(≧▽≦)o okay this has been plaguing my mind for a little bit, side note and small tangent: Xander (at least, i think it’s him. based on the glove) is holding his assigned weapon, a gun, in the first frame here. however, as we know—Xander’s gun is actually nonfunctional, and does not work. the fact that he’s holding it and having his finger on the trigger, despite it being unable to fire, could actually reference the “air of a revolutionary” in the original lyrics, as he may pretend to be someone that can use action to make change in the world but actually can’t. however, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true. this video is from david’s perspective, so this may actually be more of a reflection of david’s philosophy regarding how the world can’t change, rather than xander himself. this would match the “unreliable narrator” angle i’m seeing in this video—which i’ll get to later. i also unfortunately do not have a clear answer regarding who the person with the envelope is, but my bets are on it being a teacher of some sorts, or one of the adults that formally invited the students (including xander, david, and the rest of the students) to hope’s peak in the united states. after all, they’re handing out a “ticket of lead,” as seen in the lyrics. lead can cause poisoning to the body, and is known to accumulate over time. by even joining this school in the first place, the drdt cast is unknowingly signing themselves up for something that will traumatize them / corrupt their minds for the coming years. and i don’t know if this is just me, but some aspects of the embossing stamp of the envelope (including the justice scales, the shield(?)-esque pattern, the wings), seem very suspiciously similar to a logo for a school like that. i’m done with the tangent for now ( ´ ▽ ` )

what’s incredibly interesting (and ironic) about this frame, however, is the footnote. out of all places to put it, the dev placed footnote #5 in the one place where there isn’t a translation.

for those of you that aren’t aware, by the way, this is footnote #5:

As the translation has been intentionally botched in many parts, it should not be considered accurate.

and, actually—this is true. not necessarily botched, though, just maybe slightly manipulated.

here’s a couple of examples:

switching out pronouns in some of the lyrics (changing “i” to “you,” for example). most clearly seen here:

original lyrics: “今僕は何故泣くの？ / 今僕は何故暴れ出すの？” most of the lyrics are the same, except for one thing: “僕” (boku) is used when one wants to refer to themselves. (in other terms, it should be: “right now, why do i cry? / right now, why do i go insane?”). however, the lyrics use “you” instead. side note: this “botch,” and the roman numerals combined—david spinning the narrative so he’s directing those questions towards others, and not towards himself as a form of deflection? the unreliable narrator theory becomes stronger and stronger （＾ν＾） /j

another example is here:

original: “満足したなら / 消えて行け！” -> “if you are [now] satisfied / go and disappear!”

again, another pronoun switch, but this time it’s flipped—while the original lyrics are directing this at someone else, david (or whoever “???” is) is talking about himself. it almost seems like a response to the original lyrics. either way, this is one thing to think about. there are other examples, and i might bring them up later—but for now, these are the main ones i can think of.

2. verb tenses! specifically, these two frames:

the original lyrics: “大事なものなら / 壊れて消えたよ” this is also pretty similar, except using the ending “た” (ta) at the end of a verb, instead of “る” (lu/ru), puts the verb into past tense. (this is from personal experience, however. take it with a grain of salt)

so in reality, the lyrics are: ”if something was important, / it already broke and disappeared”

which is… interesting. because it actually does imply some things regarding david’s philosophies. given that this was likely intentional, this may be an indication of david manipulating his own thought process—from regretting what he lost in the past, to spinning that into “it was going to be lost anyways, regardless of what happened” (after all, for him, “if something is important, it will break away and disappear”). basically, it loops him into an almost pessimistic way of coping. from his perspective, if something is important to him, it will be lost, no matter what—which is hopeless, yes, but it prevents him from forming any other relationships that are “important” and/or getting emotionally attached to them in the expectation that they’ll get burned away eventually.

3. i don’t even know what to call this… like, re-contextualization? specifically, here:

the original lyrics:

“そうして忘れてゆくのでしょう / はい”

however, despite keeping the same literal meanings, this translation completely reconstructs the context of the lyrics. “はい” in this situation is actually used as an interjection, as in “yeah, / okay,” rather than a direct “yes” or an answer to a question.

additionally, “そうして忘れてゆくのでしょう” isn’t exactly a question—more so, it’s more of a “but then you’ll forget anyways” sort of… i guess “throwaway phrase.” my brain is dead, so sorry if this is a bit unclear. the true translation would be closer to “but then, i bet, you’ll forget about it.”

either way, just one thing is clear: the original lyrics were made with no intention at all to be read as a conversation, yet the translation was intentionally spun in a way to fit that. this “botch” also seems to be very important, especially with the fact that it’s labeled with the 19th footnote—as for why, however, i’m not too sure. it could be an indication that david has the idea that people will forget what has happened (and never try to change it the next time around) so ingrained into his head that it affects the way he hears conversations, events, and certain interactions—or it could be that he’s just an unreliable narrator and this is his way of proving his philosophy even in the most minor of word choices, or both, or neither. to be honest, i don’t know what the exact purpose is. (￣ー￣ )

there’s probably other “botched translations,” but those are all i have for now. but yeah, the fact that outside of these “slips” the dev was very attentive about the translation and sentence structure is what gives clear confirmation that these mistakes are absolutely intentional. they’re likely there to provide some insight into not just david’s character and philosophies, but also about his coping mechanisms and how he spins his own narrative to prove his worldview right.

as for why the corresponding footnote is placed at the one place there isn’t a proper translation in the mv… well…

(/hj) i’ll figure it out soon. (( _ _ ))

either way, feel free to reblog or send in an ask if there’s anything you want to say regarding my noticings (whether that’s refuting them or adding evidence)!

and as always, take this with a grain of salt

[arminsleftnut]

hi!! i’m so excited to see a blog that writes for death note, it’s become a recent hyperfixation of mine and i can’t find any good fics!!! 💗💗💗💗

could you provide some nsfw content for L? any is fine really, hc’s or a full drabble if you’d like!! i’m desperate for L content lol 💗💗

YES oh my god of course 💗💗 deathnote is one of mine too (i rewatch it like once a week) n L is my major comfort character. i did a kinda cross between a drabble and headcanons for this! I hope it’s what you were looking for <333

CONTENT WARNING: smut (MDNI, 18+), female-bodied reader (gender-neutral pronouns), fingering, begging, mild pain kink, overstimulation, L being .. himself and also mildly obsessive, voyeurism (read: L is a creep misa was right), slightest bit of dubcon if you squint, masturbation, pillow humping, dom!L and yes i will die on this hill, sub!reader, L is actually a little mean in this one, dacryphilia, thigh slapping, fluff at the end if you squint, let me know if i need to add more!

i.

being physically intimate with L was something you never really considered when you first got together. you weren’t even sure sex was something that was on his radar; he had so many other things to think about, and physical pleasure seemed like something he didn’t pay any mind to.

and you were right— for the most part. it’s not something L ever stops to consider. it’s not that he’s necessarily disinterested, it’s just never been a priority. he usually just takes care of himself when the urge arises.

with you here, though, it’s different. he’s not alone anymore, and your own desires are something he assumes he needs to factor in, and as many times as you assure him that it’s completely okay if he doesn’t want to have sex, that you can take care of it yourself and it’s a nonissue, he’s still . . . curious.

he’s seen you before on the monitors; those times late at night when everyone else has gone to bed and you forget there’s cameras everywhere, that he can see everything you do. he watches you as you’re spread out on the shared bed he rarely sleeps in, slipping your fingers in and out of your little cunt, your mewls and soft whines carrying through the speakers and shooting straight to his cock. he wonders if it’s wrong to watch you like this, but even as he ponders if misa amane was correct, that he is a pervert, he still doesn’t tear his gaze away from the screen. there is the possibility you hadn’t forgotten about the cameras at all. perhaps you wanted him to see.

he doesn’t say anything, less to save you any possible embarrassment and more because he’s found that a subject is least genuine when they know they’re being observed. it’s human nature, he knows, to alter yourself beneath the lens of others, to hide, and he doesn’t want that. this is a side of you he hadn’t considered might exist— an obvious oversight, and one he aims to correct.

that was how L always was. he loves you, yes, you can say that confidently. but as quiet and soft-handed a man as he is, his love is not simple, nor is it gentle. like him, it’s invasive and relentless. it’s not uncommon for you to feel somewhat neglected, or that perhaps he forgets about you altogether, but he never does. in fact, it’s quite the opposite. you are just as much a fixation, a complex puzzle to be torn apart and examined as any case, and rarely does a minute go by in which he doesn’t think of you. it’s perhaps not as romantic as you might like, with his owlish gaze pinned on you whether through a monitor or when you’re sitting next to him, picking apart every detail, but you can’t say he doesn’t pay attention to you. sometimes, you think he pays too much.

when he finally touches you, it’s no different.

he watched for weeks before he broached the idea. the hours you spent trying to satisfy yourself, with your hand between your legs or rutting desperately against a pillow— yet you never seemed truly satisfied. it was obvious in your expression, face screwed up cutely in obvious distress, frustrated tears welling in your eyes and streaking prettily down your flushed cheeks. you could only ever take two of your own fingers, he noticed; you’d tried more a few times, seeming to find your own two small ones dissatisfactory, but you could never quite make it, leaving you in a painful limbo that always has you in a particularly sour mood the next time he speaks with you.

the more he watched, the more he realized how truly unsatisfied you were. one night, you spent thirty minutes rocking against your pillow, and despite the wetness that darkened your pretty panties, you eventually gave up, tossing the ruined pillow away from you with a small, frustrated shriek. he wondered why; and more still, why he suddenly found his own hand unsatisfying, and why he could only curve his own thoughts with ones of you on the monitor, spread out prettily.

it was horribly distracting, really. and with anything else, L had to make sense of it.

in the end, he ends up with more questions than answers.

it’s not his fault, really. it’s yours. you’re so fascinating to study, and so eager to let him learn. you’d been so utterly pliant as he pried your thighs apart, stuttering out reassurances that he didn’t have to do this, asking over and over if he was sure. he doesn’t bother to tell you that this wasn’t for you— he wouldn’t be able to think properly until he’d gotten his answers.

there’s none of the awkward hesitation you might’ve expected, no unsure fumbling of hands or knocking teeth. no, L is sure of this as he is anything else he studies, tearing it apart as he sees fit until he’s satisfied with the conclusion. you’re no different, and he’s just as relentless as he always is.

there’s a certain desperate edge to it when he touches you, like he’s trying to tear everything from you by force. he watches you squirm beneath him, mewling and pleading incoherently as the walls of your pretty cunt spasm around his fingers for what feels like the thousandth time (it would seem you can, in fact, take three), and the only thing he can think of is how many more you’ll be able to give him. surely this isn’t your breaking point? no, he knows better, that can’t possibly be it. you can take more, and he tells you so, deafened to your mindless babbling and choked sobs as you try to push him away.

it’s strange that you do that. you get so upset when he actually does pull away:

he has to pin your hands down eventually; clawing at him the way you are is only a hindrance, and it reduces his overall effectiveness significantly. fortunately, you seem to learn quickly, responding especially well to a sharp slap to your inner thigh. (he isn’t sure if it’s a carrot or a stick, given the way you clench around his fingers when he does it. regardless, it works, so he does it again).

it really only occurs to him to stop when your body seizes again, this time falling entirely limp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he might’ve worried, but your eyes flutter open only a few seconds later, and it’s then that he considers that you might be rather exhausted.

“are you alright?” his voice is quiet, hoarser than normal, and uncharacteristically gentle. he cocks his head at you, the puppy-like gesture such a stark contrast to the delightful hell he was inflicting on you only moments before that you can’t help but giggle tiredly.

at your assurance that you aren’t on the verge of collapse, not anymore at least, he takes time to clean you up, his touch feather-light and familiar in its softness. he lets you cling to him, winding his awkwardly long body around you in a sort of cradle, tucking your head beneath his chin.

he counts the minutes until you fall asleep, measuring your breaths against his own. as much as he enjoys tearing you apart to see what’s inside, there’s a strange satisfaction in putting you back together again.

this is my first published smut i apologize in advance.

[quantummindclassicalheart]

a dream of flight

Inspired by @tali-zorahs's art of Laerryn and Loquatius, 1223 words about their first dance (and what comes after).

It has always been easy for Laerryn Coramar to take the lead in her life. She has always charted her own course, probed and tested every limit with a methodical and exacting eye for detail.

Centuries after her city falls, other arcane seekers will find bits and pieces of Laerryn’s machinery and puzzle at their intricate workings. Even with the whole apparatus before them, it is doubtful many would even begin to comprehend what the Architect Arcane has wrought.

For each system within the arcane engines, conduits, and capacitors of Avalir is optimized by her hand, forming a beautiful design that is as elegant as it is functional. And of all the people in this city—a city filled with mages and artificers and all manner of brilliant arcanists—she is the only one who can see it in its entirety. And she is the only one who sees what it could be.

It is her gift to be so singular. It is her burden to have no peer.

So Laerryn is accustomed to leading.

And yet. When Loquatius Seelie asks her to dance, she thinks to herself—it might not be so bad to follow, once in a while.

It’s not for his slick words or his effortless charm that she trusts him. Laerryn has known many schemers who have wielded charm like a ornamental knife that one realizes too late is not just for show. No, it is the man between the masks who intrigues and perplexes her in equal measure. It is the light shining through a multitude of stained glass faces whom she wants to know better. And to be honest, he is the only genuinely interesting person at this party (with most of the other guests ranking just below the hodmedods in terms of their capacity to carry on a stimulating conversation).

“Would you care for a dance, Madame Architect?” says Loquatius, all perfect teeth and meticulously sculpted cheekbones. She wonders idly if he’s focus group-tested different facial structures to find out which ones people found most charming and/or trustworthy. It’s not lost on her that he’s chosen his words carefully so that he can spin them as cheeky or deferent, depending on how she responds.

As she’s pondering this, it takes a few seconds for her mouth to catch up to her brain. “Um. Yes.” She blinks. “That sounds good. And just Laerryn is fine. Titles are…” She hesitates to say unnecessary, because she has worked damn hard for this one.

“…titles are for strangers,” she concludes. And even though they have only known each other a few weeks at this point, the words nevertheless ring true. Even now they are not strangers, and for all that is to come, they never will be again.

“All right. Laerryn, then,” says Loquatius. “I hope it’s all right that I take the lead here? You’ll have to forgive me if my moves are a little out of date. The last time I visited this plane, this dance hadn’t been invented yet." He shrugs apologetically.

Laerryn pauses for a moment, trying to figure out if he is joking or not. Analysis: inconclusive. She ultimately decides it’s irrelevant and nods politely, taking his hand as he leads her gently out onto the ballroom floor.

Right on cue, a new song begins to play. Out of the corner of her eye Laerryn sees the music is coming from a small ensemble of self-playing five-stringed instruments, their strings a fine gold and synthetic alloy and their sound amplified by a permanent sonic enchantment. Her thoughts shift briefly to their construction and whether similar techniques might be incorporated into some sort of maintenance apparatus for the engines that power the city.

She doesn’t have much time to dwell on this particular bit of spellcraft, however, as her eyes meet those of Loquatius (he has been graciously waiting) and on the next downbeat he is sweeping her into the dance.

Though she is capable, she’s not used to dancing the follow role. Her first instinct is to take control, ensure that the right sequences of steps are executed precisely on time and in tempo. But Loquatius, flexible and fluid as he may be, is no pushover, and there’s a playful glint in his eyes and a smile on his lips as he deftly redirects her momentum into a pivoting step that whips the two of them around in a tight orbit.

She wants to calculate and analyze and predict, to calibrate the torques like she’s done so often in her laboratory-cathedral beneath the gilded city streets. That would be easy. Natural. Familiar. But she looks at him—sweet Avalir, she looks at him—and decides instead to follow his lead.

And take the lead he does. Loquatius is light on his feet, endlessly creative with his steps and generous with his cues. He is smart and confident and decisive and he’s never been more attractive. In this moment, Laerryn thinks of the twelve Eldritch Batteries that power the city’s engines, and she thinks of the weaving channels and circuits through which their ether flows.

That’s how she feels now, in his arms. She is raw distilled potential, flowing in an intricate design towards a distant goal that is simultaneously impossible and inevitable. On a night much like this one and not too far off in the future, her city will fall. Laerryn Coramar-Seelie will fall, and her beloved with her.

But in this one shining moment, they are here and they are together and they are flying. And nothing else matters.

As the music comes to a climax, Loquatius spins her to hook her right arm around his neck, shifts his own hand to the small of her back (she can feel the steady pressure supporting her weight), and lowers her into a dramatic final dip. They’re both a little out of breath and a little sweaty (though the latter is easily cleaned up with a bit of Prestidigitation), and she looks up at him through a bit of a haze.

Gradually, he helps her back to her feet and they make their way off the ballroom floor.

“I hope that was as good for you as it was for me?” says Loquatius, and though the innuendo’s not lost on her, Laerryn also observes there’s a sincerity in what he says.

“Yes, that was… actually really fun. Thank you for the dance.” She can see the wave of relief wash over his face, though it’s immediately replaced by that picture-perfect smile he loves to wear.

“Believe me, the pleasure was all mine. Guess I’ll Seelie you around, Laerryn.” He flashes a pair of finger guns at her, then turns to rejoin the party.

As she watches him walk away, Laerryn runs a quick mental calculation. If he leaves, it could be weeks before she sees him again. But if she stops him now, maybe their fun doesn’t have to end just yet. To be honest, it’s the easiest calculation she’s ever done.

“Hey, Quay?” she calls out. “You doing anything later?”

He stops. “I mean, just schmoozing and boozing like you do at these things. Why, you got a better idea?”

“I might have a few. Quick question, though. Academic curiosity,” says Laerryn. “As far as your shapeshifting abilities go: is your face the only thing you can change?”

[junowritings]

Hello! Can I request hcs of the dorm leaders having a crush on reader please? Normally reader is a pretty shy and serious person. But one day, they see reader from afar (alone or with Grimm): Reader is acting happy go lucky and goofy, without a care in the world. How would they react? (Reader is the type to be silent and introverted in social situations but when they are alone or with someone they are comfortable with, they act bubbly and lively) Thank you!

dfghjhgfds okay so I really got carried away with this one and it shows - this focused less on the crush and more like moments between them so I hope that you like this hun~! ------

Riddle

♡ How someone so serious and reserved managed to wrangle Heartslabyul’s first years into an unlikely friendship is anyone’s guess, but it really didn’t take long after your appearance at Night Raven College before Ace and Deuce started hanging out with you and Grim. Riddle’s heard talk about you before actually meeting you for himself - it seems that even despite your shy demeanor, you’ve become fast friends with some of the other dorm members. Trey’s talked about you coming over to watch him bake, and how you were pretty adept at listening to instructions; and Cater often brings you up in conversation, bringing up some of the selfies he’s roped you into taking with him and showing them to Riddle, lamenting about how you seem to clam up at the mere prospect of large crowds.  ♡ It’s because of this that he’s somewhat prepared when the two of you initially run into one another - if only the circumstances were better given the whole unbirthday party issue. Still, that doesn’t seem to ward you off, if anything, Riddle finds you visiting Heartslabyul even more often after that event ♡ All things considered, you and Riddle actually get along rather well - whilst you don’t talk much, preferring to let the people around you do that talking for you, you’re rather pleasant company to have around. You don’t know even a quarter of the dorm’s rules, but he recognizes your effort to adhere to them as best as you’re able when you come to visit, and for what it’s worth the effort doesn’t go unappreciated on Riddle’s part, especially on his journey to be a little more lenient. He’s not exactly sure when you start winning his favor, or when he starts paying attention to little details about you when you’re around, but he notices he seems to act a little softer during your interactions, though he swears to himself that’s an unconscious reaction to a friend and nothing more. ♡ He’s heard Grim mention that you’re way more outgoing when you’re at Ramshackle alone, and Riddle has to ponder on if it’s because you’re more comfortable being yourself on your own. He’s the first to recognize that you’re more bubbly and lively when you’re comfortable, but doesn’t see it for himself till later on.  ♡ He’s walking through the dorm halls on his way back to his room, when he hears snickering coming from the common room. Nothing too unusual, but he finds himself idly wondering what’s going on in there, so he makes a small detour to double check, just in case there’s trouble brewing. Riddle walks past the common room, watches a familiar black furball go flying up into the air, and promptly backtracks to see what’s going on. He’s already preparing to chew what he assumes is some plucky first years making a mess of the common room, when he spots you, arms outstretched as Grim falls and drops on top of you, where you skillfully catch him.  ♡ You’re beaming at such a simple action, scritching Grim behind the ears as you hold the monster back up; Riddle doesn’t understand exactly what you’re doing until he watches Grim go soaring back into the air thanks to you promptly tossing him up at the cat’s signal. The sight is weird - especially because he’s pretty sure that Grim could fly just fine the last time he checked, but you genuinely look like you’re having a lot of fun throwing the feline up into the air and catching him, getting progressively higher each time. ♡ It appears Grim must trust you more than he lets on to let you do this, either that or the head pats you give him every time he comes back down is enough of a bribe to go along with the little game you’re playing. It’s rather childish, and not something he expected to ever catch you doing, which is exactly why he justifies staring at the scene for as long as he does instead of stepping in. There’s something about the way that you’re acting now that seems almost carefree, nothing quite like the stern, solemn look on your face back when he’d first caught sight of you at the induction. In all honesty it’s an almost enviable expression, or at least, that’s the feeling Riddle assumes he’s feeling when a warmth starts welling up in his chest the longer he watches the two of you play together.

Leona

♡ Has no idea how he ended up crushing on you - you’re quiet, keeping to yourself most of the time unless you get dragged into other people’s problems. That honestly suits him just fine since it means you’re less of a pain to have around - he doesn’t have to concern himself with needless blabbering or deal with the stunts the more reckless ones of his dorm seem to have a field day trying to pull off. 

♡ The longer you and Leona are around one another, the more he’s convinced that there’s more to you than what you’re letting on. Sometimes, he’ll see little flashes of something beneath your usual silent demeanor, especially during moments when you’re happy; it’s like you want to express yourself more, be more open with your feelings. But every time he sees those flashes they’re gone just as quick, which makes him start actively keeping an eye out for those little moments.

♡ One such moment is where he gets a proper glimpse at what you’re like when you’re truly comfortable. Leona was more focused on trying to nap rather than entertain guests, so he’d let Ruggie take care of you while he found a spot to get comfortable; he’s in and out of it, only half paying attention when the sound of giggling rouses him. With a grumble, unamused at being disturbed, Leona cracks an eye open to see what Ruggie’s up to now - fully expecting you to be the latest recipient of one of the hyena’s latest trick when he sees the two of you sat on the floor, legs crossed and facing each other.

♡ It’s easy to assume at first that Ruggie’s just using his unique magic on you to make you follow along with his expressions and actions, but the longer Leona watches the pair of you, he notices that your reactions are just a beat slower than Ruggies, as though you’re waiting for the hyena to move first and acting accordingly. If imitating Ruggie’s your game, you’re doing a pretty good job of it, but every time you mirror his expression Leona can see the pair of you physically struggling to stop yourselves from laughing, watching you bite your lip and seeing the corners of your eyes crinkle in an effort to steel your expression even as a smile tugs at your lips. Ruggie’s not much better, grinning like a fool as he works to make you pull the silliest expressions he can muster, making himself look equally ridiculous in the process.

♡ It’s a childish game, and you’re sure that you can hear Leona huff at the silly display, but that doesn’t stop him from watching the scene play out, easing himself up from his previous napping position into one more comfortable to keep watching. He’s more focused on you than he is Ruggie, watching your expression contort every which way before breaking out into that same grin when a snort of laughter ruins the otherwise quiet of the game. You don’t look as serious and timid as what he’s used to seeing, and you’re interacting way more than you usually do, even sticking Ruggie with some spicy retorts every time he snickers about how silly you look. It’s actually kind of refreshing, in a way, to have his suspicions confirmed that you weren’t just that silent stone wall that others had stuck you to be, so he finds himself looking at that grin of yours like he’s trying to carve it into memory.

♡ Leona makes a comment about your expressions, a little jab that you’re used to hearing by now after being around him for so long; but Leona’s surprised to find that you’ve got a little backbone this time around, sticking him with a defiant huff as you stick your tongue out at him. It’s bratty behavior, but he at least appreciates the cheek you have to pull that face at him before you whirl back around, hands excitedly patting your legs as you egg Ruggie to keep going with this little imitation show. You can’t see it, but that action earns you a raised brow before Leona shakes his head, running a hand through his hair as he flops back down, making you assume that he’s trying to get back to sleep as you continue playing - and he would be, if he didn’t want to keep listening to the sound of your carefree laughter for just a it longer. 

Azul

♡ Azul knows better than to just assume that everyone shows their true personalities without hesitation - keeping your cards to yourself until it’s safe and avoiding moments of vulnerability around those you aren’t close to are traits that he knows all too well. And it’s precisely because of this that he doesn’t immediately judge you based on your initial shyness, instead opting to give it time and see how things pan out. Besides, after the events of that whole contract incident, the way you ended up handling it, and the things that have been thrown at you since, has piqued the dorm leader’s interest.

♡ Visiting Monstro lounge after hours has become a common occurrence, to the point where Azul’s more used to seeing you sitting somewhere in the lounge than he is not - there’s an unusual emptiness to the place on the days that you can’t make it, even if Azul’s not always interacting with you outside of the nod of acknowledgment and initial greeting. Whether you enjoy the quiet atmosphere or the company is anybody's guess, but when you’re visiting on your own you hardly cause any trouble, so Azul doesn’t mind you coming around in the slightest. Plus, you have a tendency to keep Floyd occupied when things get slow, which works out for everybody working there since he enjoys having you around as well. Today’s one such day where you’ve got his attention, as you’re helping to move some of the stuff people have left behind on the counter for the brother’s to pick up. Upon seeing the little collection of cups you’re making, Floyd doesn’t think twice about sliding one over to you, with little warning other than telling you to catch as he does so.

♡ You’d acted without thinking; all you’d seen was a glass coming at you from the corner of your eye and you swatted it back the way it came, almost immediately realizing your mistake as you whip your head around to watch the cup coast back over to Floyd. He looks down at the glass with a look of surprise as he catches it, but in the next  moment that confusion is replaced with an amused grin and he nudges once again over to your side of the counter. This time you actually grab it, and after a second of skeptically eyeing the glass and Floyd you send it back at him; and, just like that, your new little minigame is afoot.

♡ The glass whizzes back and forth, getting progressively faster with each clink across the counter. And it’s that clinking that draws Azul’s attention, as the sound is enough to draw him into turning his focus over to the counter, watching the two of you play. You’re focused, tongue poking from the corner of your mouth as you focus on the glass as it comes back towards you; Floyd’s also thoroughly invested by the little game, and Azul can see his grin getting a little wider every time you have to lean over to bat it back over in his direction. It’s only a matter of time before something happens, Azul can see that clearly with how fast the glass is moving, but instead of calling out to the two of you to stop, Azul watches the exchange anyways, if only to wait for that moment to come.

♡ You must have underestimated the shot, as the next time that the glass goes whizzing towards Floyd it slips right past him and rockets off the counter. You both yell and make a grab for it even though you’re on the far end - Floyd just about falls off of the bar stool trying to snag it only to hit the floor hard enough to make the shelves rattle. Thankfully, Jade’s able to pluck it right from the air right before it hits the ground, sauntering back to the kitchen and carrying the leftover glasses from the remaining tables with him.

♡ Floyd pouts and mourns the loss of your playing glass, but you burst out into a cheer at the nice save, clapping for the Leech twin as he nods in your direction and offers you a smile as he disappears into the back room. The sudden outburst actually shocks Azul, who regards your shout with wide eyes; he’s never heard you yell before, much less that loud, so the sound catches him off guard. It seems that you catch yourself just as fast however, as the second you spot Azul looking at you, your face visibly flushes, embarrassed over him watching over the little scene, face only turning brighter when he flashes you a smile upon noticing you looking at him.

Kalim

♡ Honestly, the two of you couldn’t be more polar opposites to people on the outside looking in. Kalim’s good vibes personified, whereas you’re incredibly introverted and shy around people that you don’t know too well; it makes for an interesting dynamic between the two of you, but Kalim takes it all in stride! Regardless of whether you’re the shyest person in the world, or if you’re the most outgoing, Kalim has a way of finding the best in people and wants to be friends if you’re up for it. So when you first meet at the induction ceremony and you greet him, timid and nervous, Kalim’s really excited to greet you back, already armed with a slew of questions and things he wants to know - what can he say? He’s always interested in getting to know new people! And you’re no exception.

♡ You’re not much of a talker, preferring to let Grim or your other friends do the talking for you, but Kalim doesn’t mind in the least! Though he’s the kind of person that tries to take any and all opportunities to coax you into talking more, which can be very overwhelming during the first few weeks that you spend getting to know him. Fortunately, Jamil’s almost always there to rear him back and stop him from getting overly excited whenever he starts noticing that you’re getting uncomfortable or overwhelmed. It helps that Kalim gets Grim to warm up to him really easily, as seeing that your dormmate actually wants to hang out around him too makes you feel a bit more comfortable hanging out around him and letting loose a little more than you usually would.

♡ And Kalim’s not the only one excited for your visits. His magic carpet’s got a mind of its own and a playful streak that’s apparently only amplified whenever Grim’s in the vicinity - looks like the fluffy monster makes for a prime playmate. You, frankly, find that fact adorable, but Grim gets so miffed being constantly hounded by a magic rug that he actively goes out of his way to avoid it, even if that means swallowing his pride and hiding under or behind something until it’s gone (a fact that you love to bring up when it’s just the two of you - that’s gained you more than a few singed hairs). Unfortunately for your fluffy companion however, neither of you have really been good at knowing where exactly it is when you drop by Scarabia to hang out with Kalim, which means you either don’t have any interactions with it at all, or you do and���well, you get situations such as this.

♡ You’re walking in stride with Kalim, listening to him as he talks - he loves that you’re such a great listener, though that’s only an added bonus thanks to your usually shy demeanor (not that you’d tell him that, he looks so happy every time he gets to ramble you could listen to him talk all day). He’s mid conversation when you spot something whizz across your vision from the corner of your eye - you have no idea what it is, but you’ve got an idea of what it could be when you spot another flash of vibrant fabric. 

♡ Unlike you Kalim’s completely oblivious to this, and you’re still not quite sure what you’re seeing till you finally watch a blur round the corner. The carpet spots Grim, and in the next second Grim’s gone from his spot and zipping down the hall on the carpet's back. His scream is abrupt and loud enough that your ears ring, but the sight of the cat clinging to the fabric and cussing up a storm of curses you didn’t even know he knew makes you react without thinking.

♡ You burst into laughter, throwing your head back before you can even stop yourself watching Grim disappear from view down the corridor. As soon as he hears you laugh, unabashed and unrestrained, Kalim just falls so hard. He’s seen you smile - he’s actually been responsible for making you smile on more than one occasion, and he loves that he’s been able to do so - but there’s just something about the pure joy in your voice, tinged with disbelief, that makes this moment different. It’s the type of laugh that has you leaning against the wall for support and clutching your side, and you only laugh harder when you hear Grim’s voice in the distance, shrieking at you to stop laughing.

♡ Your laughter is contagious, and it isn’t long before Kalim joins in laughing alongside you; that really doesn’t help calm you down, if anything it spurs you on into a spiral until both of you are laughing hard enough that you’re leaning up against each others shoulders every time you hear Grim’s voice carrying on the wind - it’s a moment to remember for sure.

Vil

♡ You’re shy, reserved and keep to yourself unless it’s something you need to actively get involved in, so perhaps it's exactly that reason that you fly under Vil’s radar for so long. Back at the auditions you had looked as though you’d rather be anywhere else rather than being swarmed by your fellow students, visibly shying away and keeping to your small little bubble of friends right up until the moment that the auditions started. Perhaps it was an act of mercy that you weren’t picked as one of the main performers, and he’d fully expected that to be the last direct interaction that he had with you and that fuzzy little thing that hovers around you all of the time.

♡ Only it isn't, even after the events of the VDC it's as though you’d resolved to go out of your way to visit Pomfiore, having gotten attached to your new friends and wanting to make the effort to keep them close even if it was through quick visits. Your self proclaimed task seems easier, given that little Epel has been unanimously adopted into your little gaggle of potatoes and you’ve gotten rather close to some of the other Pomfiore members since meeting them.

♡ It seems like you’ve wormed your way into the hearts of the Vil’s dormmates - Epel’s hanging around you just about every time that he’s spotted you on school grounds, and Rook is ever doting. Vil’s not really one to talk however, given that he’s the first person to greet you whenever you come to the Pomfiore dorm for one reason or another. This is one such instance - apparently one of your little group had decided to cook some desserts and had an abundance of fruits and treats leftover, so you’d brought a couple to share, with Ace and Grim in tow as you offered Vil a rather excited greeting upon seeing him at the door.

♡ An impromptu call had pulled him away from the group momentarily, and by the time the whole mess was sorted out he was already preparing for the chaos your friends must have caused in his absence (seriously, it’s like they go out of their way to nearly break something). However, as he comes to stand in the doorway, he’s accosted by the sight of what looks like a piece of fruit skimming through the air only to land in Grim’s mouth as the monster zips up to snag it. It appears that while he was gone you’d started up a little game of throwing food across the room for Grim to catch, and given the lack of mess on the floor it appears the monster’s been doing a fair job of catching what you toss. You’re biting back a chuckle as you reach for the next piece of fruit, aiming an apple slice in Grim’s direction and asking if he’s ready - in response he grins and rubs his paws together. 

♡ You toss the piece, watching it move through the air and waiting for Grim to catch it. It looks like your trajectory was a bit off however, as it ends up sailing directly over Grim’s head and towards the windowsill where Rook’s sitting; your face immediately flashes to one of panic as you start to rise from your chair, the beginnings of a warning starting to form. It’s almost seamless how swift Rook turns his head, and before you can even blink he’s holding the apple slice between his teeth, flashing a wink before eating it and praising you for the impeccable aim.

♡ This is the first time that Vil’s seen you visibly brighten at the sight of a challenge, and he finds himself pausing in the doorway as he watches you straighten up in your chair, leaning on your knees as you reach into the pack for the next piece of fruit. This time you pull out a grape, and you shoot Rook a grin as you rear back, aiming the fruit over at his direction as he swivels around in preparation. 

♡ This goes on for a few more tosses, and while Vil feels as though he should break up the little exchange, he can’t find it in himself to step in as he watches an orange slice sail across the room in a swift arc and Ace dives from his seat to slide across the floor and catch it, joining in on the fun. The moment he does a roar of triumph rips through the room, and you throw your hands up as you hollar and laugh at the successful shot; only to underestimate how far you’d leaned back and topple right off of your chair. You hit the floor, disappearing from sight, and your friends immediately make a move to check if you’re okay when they hear you laugh, still giggling to yourself by the time your head peeks back up from behind the counter.

♡ You’re disheveled from the fall, hair mussed and collar and tie left askew and loose - had this been usual circumstances, Vil’s first thought would have been to admonish you for letting yourself get into such a unkempt state and he’d have stepped in to correct the slight immediately; instead, his thoughts are trained on your expression, how different it looks from the carefully neutral facade you usually wore. How far that face had come since he’d first met you, now so warm and full of energy, it was as though you were alight with life with each little mark and awry hair only adding to your appearance. You looked...happy, imperfect but somehow...better than beautiful.

♡ Rook’s voice breaks him from entertaining that thought further, clapping his hands together and promptly announcing Vil’s sudden presence to the rest of the party. Vil watches the surprise cross your face, head ducking down so that only your eyes were visible behind the counter as you offer him a timid wave (though the reddening tips of your ears are enough to indicate your embarrassment). He’s swift to stride across the room, rounding the counter to where you’re still kneeling on the floor. You seem shocked when he offers you a hand, and Vil has to ponder just why you’re so shy in his presence as you eye the outstretched hand; you take the offer though, and honestly have to marvel at how soft his hand feels as it holds yours and tugs you up from the floor.

♡ You expect him to move away from you once you’re back onto your feet, but you’re hardly steady again when the hand holding yours moves to your shoulder, balancing you as he gives your disheveled state a once-over. He makes a noise akin to a hum before you feel a hand carding through your hair, smoothing out the otherwise untamable mess with precise fingers and you probably would have flushed under the attention were you not so surprised by the action. Instead of admonishment, Vil finds himself urging you to be careful - potatoes may be sturdy, but he’d rather not have this one getting hurt.

Idia

♡ In all honesty, Idia’s just as introverted, if not more so given his penchant for locking himself away from the world and sticking to the safety of his dorm room at any and all opportunities. So if there’s any chance of you interacting with him, it's either from pure luck, or because you befriended his brother - which given the circumstances, is definitely the latter of the two scenarios. Your shy and reserved personality around others and tendency to clam up in social situations reminds Ortho a lot of Idia, so after his first interaction with you during the Pomfiore auditions he makes an effort to get to know you! It takes you off guard, and Grim butting into the conversation every other minute to ask the boy something arbitrary really doesn’t help with your feelings on the situation; with time, and a little work however, you start opening up a little around him, and with the open and practiced way he approaches you, it isn’t long before the two of you actually become pretty decent friends.

♡ Idia just doesn’t know what to make of you when he hears of your first few meetings relayed directly through Ortho. It’s like you’re some kind of anomaly or glitch that slipped under his radar up until this point in time, and he doesn’t know what trick you’re pulling, but so long as you don’t have any malicious intentions he figures he can tolerate hearing about you. And boy, does he hear it - it’s like you’re involved in just about everything that goes wrong at Night Raven College one way or another, though it seems like it’s through no fault of your own if what he’s seen through the cameras is anything to go by. In a way he almost kind of sympathizes for you, being dragged around every which way by the other dorm heads and students looks exhausting, and you really seem to hate being around all the large crowds that all the school’s events attract. It’s like the only moment of respite you get is with your new flame-haired friend and that talking cat monster, Grim, but Idia doesn’t have much first hand experience when it comes to interacting with you.

♡ The first time you actually meet him face to face, it’s a complete accident. It’s not like he even knew you were going to be coming to the dorm because he hadn’t heard anything about it - it must have been an impromptu invitation, which is really unlike his little brother to do - so imagine his surprise when he rounds a corner and narrowly misses running headfirst into you. He knows what you look like, has seen it through his monitor a few times; hell, you’ve even greeted him through the tablet at dorm leader meetings once or twice when you were close enough to it. But seeing you through a monitor, and seeing you now in the flesh is so jarring that for a hot second he freezes up, looking at you with a baffled expression. You look so different face to face, and he watches you regard him curiously, head cocking to the side as though trying to size him up. It’s only when you give him a confused look and offer a quiet “uhhh,hi?” that Idia realizes what’s going on, and within the next moment he’s gone so fast that you have to double check that he was even there to begin with.

♡ Needless to say, not the best first impression, and Idia’s about ready for the earth to swallow him whole after that incident when you actually go out of your way to approach him the same day. You don’t try to burst into his room or demand him to come out like most of the others, instead you merely knock to announce your presence and mutter out a quiet yet surprisingly serious apology for scaring him back there, mentioning that you hope everything’s okay between you, afterall, you don’t to upset the person that you friend looks up to so much. And then just like that you’re gone, giving him some space as you go off to seek out Ortho.

♡ The friendship between you and Idia is definitely a slowburn, and often has Ortho as the middleman so to speak, being the more outgoing of the three of you when Grim isn’t following you around. Slowly but surely, you open up and start talking to him more, even asking him questions about his games and the kinds of things that he likes to tinker with - it’s a lengthy process, but as Idia spends more time answering your queries he realizes that he’s started to get used to having you around, even kind of looking forward to you coming over.  ♡ Idia recognizes the beginnings of a crush, being able to distinguish that these feelings are different than just friendship, and he gets so worked up about it. A lot of his pining is done from afar, as he’d rather keel over and burn the dorm down before he admits his feelings out loud - he’s always thinking of the worst case scenario with social interactions, and just thinking about all the ways you could possibly reject him is enough to make him feel nauseous, so he sticks to just keeping it to himself and lingering on these feelings safely behind closed doors. He’s sure he can keep it to himself, convinced of it...until he sees what you’re like when you’ve warmed up to someone.

♡ He’d crashed in his bed after staying up way too long grinding for an in-game event, leaving you and his brother to play whatever multiplayer he’d dug up for the two of you to take a crack at; Idia’s the first to admit that sometimes he can sleep like the dead if he’s particularly sleep deprived, so it’s not a surprise that he doesn’t wake up till quite a while later. What wakes him up however is laughter - one voice is Ortho’s, he recognizes it immediately, but the other voice takes him by surprise, and he finds himself peeking his head out from the covers, mindful to keep his hair underneath lest he give away that he’s awake.

♡ Idia finds the two of you giggling to yourselves, with you laughing so hard that there’s tears in your eyes as you clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. Ortho isn’t much better, thoroughly entertained by your laughing and trying to hide his own chuckles as you struggle to recompose yourself - it’s a bizarre scene to watch, and Idia has no idea what’s got you so chuffed until you compose yourself enough to inch back over to your controller. Upon looking at the screen, he sees that you’re still playing that game - there’s a cutscene playing, however it doesn’t take much to realize that the model looks wrong, some kind of bug giving them hilariously static poses that look awkward as the panels switch from scene to scene. There’s a split second where it looks like the bug’s corrected itself, and the laughter dies down into breathy chuckles as you move to click the button prompt. But then all Idia sees is the flash of a stock horse model whizzing across the screen and into the sky and Idia watches you and his brother just about crumple with a wheeze all over again.

♡ He’s never seen you even laugh like that before, much less act so ridiculously silly over something as small as a game glitch, but he’s practically glued to watching your reaction, watching this new, boisterous side of you with a rapt fascination. It’s hard to compose yourself while fighting off the giggles, attempting to imitate some of the bizarre cutscenes as you ramble excitedly about how weird and funny that whole thing was. Ortho also makes an attempt to follow suit, and that starts the pair of you off all over again. Idia would be hard pressed to deny that the sight of you and his brother, grinning without a care as your face flushes from all the yelling, didn’t make him ridiculously happy. If this is what you’re usually like, then does that mean he hasn’t unlocked that with you yet? He’s quick to shake away the thought, instead continuing to watch the scene unfolding in his room - he almost wishes that he could join in on the fun.

♡ Well, it looks like that wish comes true, as Ortho spots his brother out of the corner of his eye and greets him as he excitedly points at the screen, wanting to fill him in on what’s happened while he’s been resting. Your head snaps over to his bed, and he sees the flush on your face turn a deeper shade now for a different reason as you offer a timid greeting of your own, still smiling that bright smile as you apologize for waking him up. At being caught Idia doesn’t know what to say so he reacts without thinking, letting out a choked noise and diving back into his covers so you can’t see his face burning in embarrassment, though the way his hair flares up makes the action futile. 

Malleus

♡ Malleus garners that you’re rather shy when you first cross paths outside of Ramshackle. He’d heard talk about what you were like, as Lilia had taken a particular interest not long after you’d first arrived at the school, having become what one might consider unconventional lunch buddies between breaks. Lilia spoke rather highly of you, though Malleus had yet to place a face to the name until he’d met you on the dorm grounds. He’s no stranger to others shying away from him or being scared in his presence, if anything, it’s the reaction that he expected you to have at the sight of him lingering within the grounds' poorly lit walkways. However, he’s quick to discern that the way you act in his presence isn’t because you’re scared of him, it’s rather just the way you usually act around others. 

♡ This suspicion is confirmed the next time he sees Lilia and brings you up in conversation; at the mention of your name, Lilia’s expression practically brightens up, interested in the young man's apparent newfound interest in you, and doesn’t hesitate to pry into what Mal wants to know. When it comes to your unusually silent demeanor, Lilia’s quick to add that you aren’t always like that - just give it a bit of time for you to warm up to him, and he’s sure that Malleus might well see that there’s more to your personality than what he’s seen. 

♡ Mal’s got no idea what Lilia means, but regardless he still finds himself coming back to Ramshackle - when his usual haunts become occupied he thinks little of finding another secluded location, but this time he finds himself returning. At first, you’d only come outside to check that it's him and not someone out wandering the dorm grounds, but after a handful of meetings, Malleus is intrigued to find you following in stride with him during one of his walks. You don’t give any explanation, nor do you bother with asking any arbitrary questions - which honestly suits Mal just fine - instead, when you cross paths, you just start to walk alongside him for a while. The nighttime strolls have no need for talking if you’re not the speaking sort, and he’s hardly the type to complain about trivial things like that - Malleus is fine simply having the company on what would otherwise be a solitary excursion. 

♡ The longer the two of you spend these nights together, the more he gets tiny flashes of your warmer side. You begin opening up a little more with talking, making small comments about the weather or any upcoming events of note - it’s mundane things, but the small talk is...surprisingly endearing when previously you said nothing more than what you absolutely had to. Perhaps this is what Lilia was on about back then, is what Malleus thinks to himself; either way, it's just another little thing that keeps him coming back. Mal honestly doesn’t see himself having a crush just yet - it’s just that he enjoys the company, and the way you interact with him, shy but unafraid, intrigues him in such a way that keeps him coming back. That’s how he rationalizes it at least.

♡ His first glimpse of your more open personality is by pure chance. Usually at this time of night he would find you wandering somewhere around the Ramshackle grounds, either actively seeking Malleus out or looking for some fresh air to shake off the stress of the morning hours; however when he can’t seem to find you at your usual spots, he resolves to approaching the ramshackle dorm to search for you. Chances are you’re just late or you aren’t interested in accompanying him tonight - either way, he’d rather find that out for himself so he approaches the dorm with little hesitation. All of the lights inside are off barring one, and Malleus finds himself walking around to see if he can make out whatever’s inside, hoping that it’s you.

♡ And he finds you, but the sight he’s greeted with catches him off guard. He can hear the music through the windows, an upbeat melody that Malleus would never quite pin you as a fan of until now. And as he gets closer to the lights he can see you inside the living room, sliding into view. At first, he doesn’t have a clue what you’re doing, moving across the floor in a weird way that’s not unlike shuffling. After a beat though, Malleus soon realizes that you’re dancing, spinning and jumping around the room without a care in the world, belting the words out at the top of your lungs loud enough that he’s sure you’d wake up your dormmates if you had any, though he can hardly make out the lyrics from beyond the glass.

♡ The sight is...oddly mesmerizing, in a way, not because you’re particularly professional, but because of how lively you’re acting. You look so happy, so carefree compared to the shy and silent persona that you usually convey around others - it's a bizarre sight, to say the least, but at the same time it’s a welcome one, and Malleus simply can’t tear his eyes away. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been at it, but it isn’t long before you tire yourself out, whirling around a final time before you finally stumble and topple back onto the floor. You fall so suddenly that Malleus would have moved closer to check that you were okay were it not for your surprised shout filtering off into giggling once you shake off the shock. You’re frazzled, with hair askew and breathing hard, but at the same time you’re visibly giddy, lost in your own little world and grinning like a fool as you run your hands through your hair and rest your head back against the floor.

♡ Malleus has no idea why, but the sight of you smiling, so unburdened by the world outside has him entranced - it’s like you’re practically glowing with energy that he hasn’t seen before, and he’s transfixed to soaking in all the little details, as though wanting to commit this image to memory. He probably would have strayed a moment longer had you not suddenly moved, rolling off of the floor and scrambling onto your feet as you disappear from view, apparently called away by someone - probably Grim - and as the moment’s broken Malleus finally catches himself, cursing himself for getting so distracted.

♡ He ends up completely forgetting what he came over to do, and ends up taking that walk on his own. But he finds his thoughts during that stroll almost completely occupied by the moment, replaying the scene in his mind and thinking back on that vibrant, beaming smile that had lit up your face - the way you looked when you laughed and moved without a care in the world. A part of him is a little sad that you’re not like that when in his presence, but at the same time he finds himself understanding why you keep that side of yourself so closely guarded. Still, that doesn’t stop Malleus from entertaining the idea that sometime in the future he can see that vibrancy face to face, maybe even directed at him - perhaps there’s something he could do to reassure you that you can open up around him...

[kakaxhi]

Kotaro Bokuto | Us, Always

Pairing: Kotaro Bokuto x Fem!Reader (college au!)

Summary: when Bokuto finds out your ex is pestering you, his immediate response is to pretend to be your boyfriend

Warnings: mild language, creepy exes

Word Count: 1.9k

Your morning was already ruined before they showed up.

As hard as you tried to ignore your ex, they were insistent on talking to you despite you politely - and sometimes not-so-politely - told them to leave you alone. It was a messy break up and they couldn’t get the message that you wanted nothing to do with them.

“I know you have a few minutes before your next class. Let me say something, please?”

“I really don’t have anything to say to you, as I’ve said multiple times. Please just leave me alone.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned around only to be stopped by their hand holding onto your wrist. The way their hand felt on your skin made you want to curl into yourself. Just before you could say something, another hand came into view.

“Hey, hey, hey! We got a problem here? Don’t bother lying, because I know for a fact [Y/N] has asked you to leave her alone.”

Your ex glared at Bokuto before taking off, but not before glancing at you once more. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding before turning towards Bokuto. You bowed respectively as you thanked him.

“You really didn’t have to get involved though, they usually stray away after awhile.”

“I could see how uncomfortable you were. Ah, I hope I didn’t make you more nervous by knowing your name. We’re in the next class together and I’ve heard you with your friends. I’m Bokuto Kotaro.”

You smiled, a small laugh escaping you, “I know, I’ve been to a few games since one of my friends is on the team with you.”

Bokuto smiled, “Really? Well now I’ll be sure to look for a familiar face in the crowd.”

He motioned for you to follow him, walking with each other to your next class. The conversation continued before class started, Bokuto giving you a reassuring smile.

“Why don’t you meet me after classes are over? I’d love to get to know you better.”

-

“Is your ex still bothering you?”

You nodded, “Yeah, every time you’re not around.”

Bokuto frowned, playing with the hem of his shirt. Once the two of you got to know each other better, you gave him details here and there of your past relationship and your ex. With the more information he received, Bokuto liked your ex less and less. Something about them just irked him, adding onto the fact he hated how they treated you.

“Well, I have an idea. It’s up to you if you want to go through with it.”

“Well, let’s here it.”

“What if we went out?”

You sputtered on your drink, covering your mouth before the liquid went everywhere. Bokuto rushed to help, rubbing your back as he handed you some napkins.

“Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you coughed, “just didn’t expect that. What do you mean go out?”

Bokuto sat back down, “I meant like fake dating. You said your ex only stays away when I’m around, so maybe if they get the idea you’re with me they’ll leave you alone.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position or anything.”

“It was my idea. If anything, I’m tired of them making you uncomfortable. I wanna help.”

“How about I think about it?”

He nodded, “Sure, just know I’m always here. Whatever you need.”

You quickly shoved the butterflies in your stomach away.

-

It was at Bokuto’s next practice game where you agreed. Your ex had been pestering you more when you weren’t with Bokuto and the day just really got on your nerves. Walking into the gym, you found Bokuto and waited for him to notice you by the bleachers. He waved excitedly before excusing himself from the conversation he was having before coming over to meet you.

“Hey gorgeous, what are you doing here?”

You sighed, playing with your fingers nervously, “That plan we discussed the other day? Is that still an option?”

Bokuto pondered for a moment before nodding quickly, “Yeah, of course. Fuck, you look so stressed out. What happened?”

“It’s just been a really long and difficult day.”

He nodded in understanding before pulling you into his arms. Your own circled his middle, hiding your face in his chest. He smiled, giving you a quick squeeze before pulling away.

“Practice is going to start soon. Why don’t you stay and watch and then I’ll walk you back to your dorm? We can discuss things further.”

You nodded, “Sure. Thanks, Bokuto.”

He gave you a sweet smile, “Anything for you.”

He sent a wink your way before jogging back out to the gym floor. You sat on the bleachers, eyes widening every time he hit the ball. Even if you didn’t know the sport well, it was clear Bokuto would make it very far if went professional.

After practice, Bokuto came over to you. He wiped his brow with a small towel, grabbing his water bottle.

“I’m gonna take a fast shower and then we can leave. I can have one of the guys sit out here with you if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. They’re probably all tired. I’m fine, promise.”

He squeezed your hand as he stood, “If you’re sure. My phone’s in my bag if you need something. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

True to his word, Bokuto was out of the shower quickly, his hair still slightly wet when he came out to meet with you. You followed him out the door, laughter filling the air around you as he told you a story from his past.

“You’ll have to meet Akaashi sometime. I think you two would really get along.”

You smiled, “Yeah? Well, maybe we can arrange it. Oh, turn here. My building’s around the corner.”

Bokuto followed you up to your room, glancing around at the little things you had laying around. He stood in the doorway awkwardly as you moved some things around.

“You can sit wherever, my roommate spends most of her time at her boyfriend’s place so we have no interruptions.”

He nodded, placing his gym bag down and sitting besides you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to discuss the plan and whatever boundaries you wanted to have. Bokuto was an absolute sweetheart, as you’ve come to know, and wanted to make sure you were happy with everything.

“Maybe you could come to my games too? I mean, not just for this plan but I genuinely enjoyed having you there tonight.”

“I’ll be there.”

-

You didn’t miss the way people looked at you and Bokuto the next day. People were jealous of both you and it honestly was a bit overwhelming. Bokuto squeezed your hand, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Ignore them, they’re just mad. Whatever they’re saying or thinking means nothing.”

You leaned into him more, your free hand resting against his arm. A triumphant smile made its way to your lips when you spotted your ex looking at the two of you, and you knew the plan was working.

Bokuto stopped in front of your first class, thumb brushing against your cheek once you lifted off of him.

“I’ll see you later, okay baby?”

You nodded, smiling as he planted a kiss to your cheek. His hand slowly left your waist, a smile resting on his lips before going to his own class.

Once again, you pushed the butterflies away, reminding yourself this was all fake.

-

Your plan with Bokuto went on for another month before your ex confronted you both. Bokuto treated you to a date after a hard week of classes and practice. Fake or not, he wanted to treat you well. As the two of you were talking, Bokuto quickly got up from his seat once your ex started walking towards you.

“Seriously? This is getting out of-“

“You don’t shut up do you? I’m here to talk to [Y/N].”

You rolled your eyes, “What could you possibly want now?”

“You’re not actually dating him, are you?”

Your heart started racing, panic rising in your veins, “Uh, yes we are? Are you that dense?”

“Really? Then how come I’ve never once see you two kiss? Is this all a ruse to make me jealous or something?”

You exhaled sharply through your nose before standing, “I don’t know how many time I need to tell you, but I want nothing to do with you. Whether I’m with Kotaro or not is none of your business.”

Bokuto smiled at the mention of his first name, something he wanted to hear you say over and over. He maneuvered his arms around your waist, holding you as he glared at your ex.

“Fine, kiss him and I’ll believe you.”

“Or I could just knock you on your fucking ass and call it a day.”

You shook your head, knowing if he got into a fight he wouldn’t be able to play the big game coming up. Turning around, you face him with a sweet smile.

“It’s fine, Ko. If it’ll get them to leave us alone.”

Bokuto checked to see if there was any signs of you being uncomfortable before he leaned in. Your hands gripped onto his dress shirt as your lips pressed to his. His nose gently rubbed against your own before deepening the kiss. Teeth nipped at your bottom lip before he pulled away, chuckling at your ex’s retreating figure.

“Serves them right. So, are you okay after all that.”

You nodded, “Just glad to have you with me.”

-

Things changed between you and Bokuto after that. It was a few days later when he found himself outside your dorm. You had no afternoon classes that day and he didn’t want to wait until later to see you. He knocked on your door, a soft smiling pulling on his lips when he saw you.

“Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

You welcomed him in, shutting the door behind you once he was settled. You could see the stress on his features, even as he tried to hide it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this fake dating thing with you anymore.”

You nodded, “I figured as much. You’ve been avoiding me, I figured I did something to upset you.”

Bokuto stood, placing his fingers under your chin, “You did nothing wrong, I don’t think you understand me. I can’t do this fake dating, but I want to date you for real.”

“Scared me, thought you didn’t want to be around me anymore.”

He chuckled, his arms encircling you, “Sorry, you’re stuck with me. I mean, if you want me around that is.”

You nodded, “As long as you want me, I’m yours.”

Bokuto smiled, “So, does this mean I can take you on a proper date now? Make you mine?”

You chuckled, “Yes, of course.”

“Well that’s good,” Bokuto bent down to kiss you, “because you had my heart from the day I met you.”

The butterflies in your stomach told you, you felt the same way.

[i-cant-sing]

Daniel and YN part 9 🌗🌗

“Sensei, I think we have a lead on Daniel and YN.” “Tell me more, Tomura.” Shigaraki’s spine tingles when his master speaks.

His father figure, his sensei. Desperate to please, he pulled up the file his rat in the police station grabbed. “Last week there was an incident at the cafe in the pink district. There were several vases destroyed from an unknown explosion. The windows were cracked from trembling so hard. Almost all the footage tapes were melted, melted in the camera holder. When examined, the broken materials were giving off radiation. Radiation so bad it left a cop in the hospital.” “Interesting… you said almost all the footage?” “Yes. My rat got me the only tape that survived. When I watched it, I think I saw them.” AFO tilted his head. It was progressing faster than planned, but of course he was prepared for that possibility. Daniel seemed to be more subject to his emotions than his sister. Over the years AFO did not see an improvement on his mental development. It seemed that he would need to intervene sooner than expected if he did not want to lose his child to a hero. “Sensei. There’s also news that All Might and his protege are investigating the incident.” Now that was a complication. All Might and his other child should not be allowed total influence over the two. It was time to enact a different plan. One that involved seeing his past wife. “Thank you Tomura. I want you to keep an eye out for them. They are not to be harmed. I have to make arrangements. When you find them make sure you keep a nullifier on hand. In case Daniel needs to be calmed down.” With that, AFO hung up and opened a portal to the Midoryia household. He hasn’t gone by Midoryia for a long time, but even so he did not expect a warm welcome from his past wife. And when she opened the door to him, the look of worry on her face confirmed his suspicions. “They’re not here. Izuku is out trying to find YN. You can’t lash out at him or All Might. They’re-” “I plan to find them first. Izuku is not capable of handling Daniel’s quirk if they upset him. And you underestimate YN. She is very adept at hiding and defense.” “How would you know?” “Because I keep a watchful eye on all my children.” “All your..?” “Four years before we conceived Izuku, I donated my DNA for a little… experiment. The mother had a minor quirk involving radiation. From that pregnancy cane Daniel. Four years later, months after we conceived Izuku, I had my DNA donated again. YN was born from that.” “They 're just experiments to you?” “At first, yes. I did not plan to get attached. But I did. And I have been attached since. I was there when Daniel first displayed reminances of a quirk. I was there when YN learned to balance herself on a high wire. I found them when they were lost. I arranged for her mother’s job to move her to this district and apartment building. I’m the reason you gained custody of them if you recall the deal we made.” “I…” “My point is I may not have been there for Izuku’s life but I have been there for my other two. And I don’t plan to relinquish my children to All Might or those heroes. Is that understood, All Might?” Inko turned around to see her son and his mentor standing in the doorway. Both were glaring at the villain. Ready to ounce at him if need be. But without him she would lose the children. “Mom get away from him.” “Is that any way to speak to your father Izuku?” “YOU LEFT!” Before the fighting could get any worse Inko stood between them. “My baby, my love.” She turned to All Might and Izuku. “We may not like it but he is their father. And he probably would be useful to returning YN and Daniel safely. We have to sit down and figure this out. For them.” So with great tension, Two rivals sat across a dinner table along with a green haired boy and a troubled mother. All discussing the custody of two individuals that didn’t belong to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 10 🌗🌗

Sometimes YN wished she had made more of an effort to make friends. Yes Daniel was her best and closest friend, but it would be nice to have a girl or boy her own age to talk to. Someone that she could talk about stupid crap with. She tried being friends with Izuku when she and her brother officially moved in with the Midoryia’s, but they never saw her or Daniel as their own people. Izuku never really cared that YN was great at math. The best in her class. That she had a tiny interest in math because the answers were always exact and never had to be debated. He didn’t bother to care that YN liked reading romance and horror stories, that she really liked cheesy murder mystery movies with a twist villain hidden in plain sight. Izuku knew those things about her, but he just wrote it down in his notebook and filed it away like she wasn’t a person. They were no better to Daniel either. He was treated like an incompetant child. Like he was stupid and a baby. Sure he was disabled but he wasn’t incapable of everything. If they bothered talking and treating him like a person they’d see how complex he was. They’d see that he was so talented when he painted, that he could find a focus on the small important details. That Daniel, while he couldn’t understand complex emotions, could create beautiful things. Daniel had a delayed mind, but he loved figuring out puzzles. Daniel loved pinwheels and painted windmills, loved when they spun to beautiful colours. But did they care, no they saw only a child that needed to be coddled and kept away from how beautiful the world could be. YN couldn’t help but tear up as she held her knees to her chest. Why? Why couldn’t Izuku have been the friend she needed when her parents died? Why didn’t she try harder to make friends when she was at public school? Why did she act so introverted and angry at everyone? Just as she was about to cry, YN felt two long arms wrap around her. “Why you sad?” “It’s nothing really. I just… I really miss momma and pop. I really wish they were here.” “....Me too.” So the two hugged tightly. For tonight and every night that will come, they’ll have each other. In another place, a skinny blue haired villain placed a severed hand on his face. Determined to please his master, his father figure, Shigaraki set out to find the two troubled teens. They couldn’t be hidden forever. Besides, AFO should be allowed to see his children. He was their father, by blood. Shigaraki wasn’t an idiot though. He knew that the incident caused a commotion for those hungry for power. Ready to use quirk off the Boy. Shigaraki made sure to send some of his underlings out to gather intel and report whether or not other crimelords had their sights and claws on the teens. He had to be careful not to cause a scene and bring the heroes upon them. As the cold night blew his hair slightly, Shigaraki pondered the situation. Sensei had a wife, and three children? But not all share the same mother. He didn’t raise his three children, but he looked after them. But out of all of them Sensei chose to raise Shigaraki. He felt special. Sensei wanted to be near him. Nonetheless, these two were family. His sorta siblings. And he would bring them home. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 11 🌗🌗

Young Izuku had the foundations to be a great hero. He was kind, string in heart, brave, and a little stupid. Toshinori knew that he would make a fine owner of OFA. And when he trained the boy he saw the makings of a new symbol of peace. Inko was a beautiful woman, even if she was too anxious to notice. He felt this urge to love and protect her. And over the months with her and Izuku, they formed a genuine love. Toshinori was a little concerned at first when he met YN and Daniel though. He did not really understand why they were kept so sheltered and why they were so babied. YN seemed like a capable young woman. But like with Izuku and Inko, the more time he spent near them, the more he felt protective, loving, obsessive. “Ah, good morning young YN. How was your night?” “What do you think. You stole my switchblade.” Inko seemed to bristle a bit at YN’s angry tone. “Sweetie.. We just thought that you could get hurt. It’s for the best. You know that w-” “That you only want the best for me. Yea I heard the same argument over and over again. And each time it’s still bull.” Before either could reprimand her, she stomped to her room slamming the door. Mornings usually weren’t so great. Especially when the night before they had to make big decisions regr=arding her safety. On All Might’s days off he would spend time with the Midoryia’s, sometimes it would go smoothly and sometimes the mood couldn’t surpass a funeral. All Might felt that he should’ve noticed the signs that YN was going to run away sooner. Perhaps then he could have intervened and then the whole family could air out why things were the way they were.

The first signs had to be when YN kept interfering with the way Inko felt was right to take care of poor Daniel. “Come on Daniel, It’s time to go to the learning center.” “Oh sweetie, I forgot to tell you that we pulled Daniel out of the center classes.” “What?” When YN’s face turned, All Might could see that a screaming match would begin, well not really a match considering young YN would be doing all the screaming. He was just here to pick up young Midoryia but he couldn’t help but stop in. “Well it’s just that Daniel learns so much better at a home, and the center is full of so many people that would be mean to him. Besides, he doesn’t really need to be at the center when I can take care of him.” “Yes he does! How is he gonna learn to cook and clean and manage any type of money if you refuse to let him learn!?!” “Daniel’s mind can’t handle all the new information. He might start to panic and his quirk might-” “YOU don’t know a GODDAMN thing about him! About what is best for him! You wanna do what’s best for my brother?! Than STOP treating him like he’s completely incompetent!” Before she could yell another word All Might stepped in with his trademark ‘I AM HERE’ . “Now young YN that’s no way to speak to your foster mother. She just believes that someone more personal should be teaching Daniel these things. That's not so bad is it?” “But-” “IS IT?” “Fine.I’ll get my school work done early so that I can teach Daniel in the afternoon.”

With that the argument was resolved. If only that was the last time she lashed out at them. If only he prevented the biggest fight that broke out between Izuku and YN. “Will you stop pestering him about his quirk?! It obviously makes him uncomfortable!” YN had walked into the room seeing Izuku asking Daniel all sorts of questions about his quirk and how he used it. It would’ve been fine had he stopped at the first two questions, but he kept going on and on. Wouldn’t stop asking about the destructive qualities, or about how his mind sometimes couldn’t comprehend his own quirk. Izuku didn’t notice how uncomfortable Daniel was getting. “I was just asking him some questions!” “You were being a jerk!” Before Izuku could yell at her again, the table and the mirrors broke. Both turned to see Daniel staring furious and scared, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t scream at my sister!” He spoke angrily. He was so brave, so ready to defend his baby sister. Daniel could’ve brought the whole room down, had All Might in his ultimate form not stepped and stopped him. All Might should’ve known not to grab him and held him down. He should’ve known that the constriction made Daniel panic. Made him destroy more things to make it stop. The screaming continued, until YN grabbed her brother and calmed him. They barricaded themselves in her room that night. And in the morning, the three tried to act like it didn’t happen. All Might took the kids out for the day. Celebrating Izuku’s placement in the hero program. The signs were there that day. The signs that they were going to run. That they were going to leave. If only All Might had seen the signs. If only Toshinori hadn’t gotten attached to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 12 🌗🌗

Toshinori was a good man. He wasn’t perfect but he was a good man. He had a moral code and knew right from wrong. Though selfish desires sometimes took his attention more than the moral desires. He knew it was wrong to smother and coddle Daniel and YN, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect them. Even if they didn’t want it. He felt like Izuku, YN, and Daniel were like his children. He felt just as protective over Izuku as he was over YN and Daniel. But he couldn’t coddle him like the other two. He had a duty to Nana to pass on OFA, Izuku had to live up to that power now. And he was so dedicated to being a hero. Toshinori wanted to do right by all the kids. He felt that it was his duty to find his missing kids, and bring them home. Let YN know that he didn’t feel angry that she left. Let Daniel know that he was sorry. So before he could work with his arch enemy, he decided to learn more about the two. So that when they were found again, he could show them that he was ready to be a real mentor figure, a guardian. When he entered YN’s room, it was not what he expected. He thought the sullen looking problem child would have grunge posters, a dirty room, torn up clothes and what not. Imagine his surprise when he saw colourful mini lantern lights strung over the walls. A math book along with several romance and horror storybooks. Her bedspread was a mix of several pillows and a giant comforter. Something that he’s sure would look inviting after a long day. There was a fluffy rug that cushioned his feet. The curtains were dark and cut out all light. On her bookshelf there was a collection of old murder mystery and comedy movies. When he popped one into the small tv player, he felt a stronger connection than before with her. Laughing at the cheesy twists and overacting. She was more than just a quirkless victim. She felt like a daughter to him. Toshinori never understood why he never went into Daniel’s room before. Of course Inko was there. Holding Daniel’s favorite pillow. This room, like the other, was a window into someone that Toshinori never actually knew. For some reason he thought Daniel would have soft light wall colors and some doodles on the wall. But the walls were an earthy dark blue. His blankets were patterned with prints of old paintings. There were canvases of unfinished pieces of art littered around the desk and bed. Notes and papers of unconnected thoughts all tucked away in a drawer. He spotted a framed photo of what he assumed were Daniel’s parents. Hidden under his pillows. When he saw the ceiling, it was a mix of a starry night sky but had handprints all over. In various colors. Touching his own hand to the print, Toshinori felt a connection to the boy. It was like a click happened. He wasn’t just a boy struggling with his developmental disability. Daniel saw the world in colors and was just frustrated that no one could understand those colors. Daniel wasn’t an emotionally compromised person with a violent quirk, he was a boy who wanted to be happy and understood. That day, Toshinori finally felt the wall that was preventing him from really understanding these two was finally lifted. And had he been listening to his moral side he would’ve known to not pursue them. But his selfish side won that fight. With his new understanding came an ugly obsession. A protective instinct to hold and protect them even more. Whilst quirkless YN might be strong and smart, she was too emotional and easy to provoke. Daniel might not be safe out there either. He loses control when people don’t understand. But Toshinori understood now. He would keep his children safe. Izuku, Daniel, and YN. Even if he had to work with the devil. “I’ll bring you home. Everything will be okay. Because I am here.” 🌗🌗

Amazing work as always moon anon! The story has become quite interesting! Its inspiring me to write for platonic AFO, something that I've not talked about for quite a while. Him and well, Erasermic

[bokutosvoid]

drivers license | k.b

Pairing - bokuto x reader (gender neutral)

(A/N; this is a drivers license song fic but bokuto is the one getting his drivers license. I’m sorry in advance)

Text in bold is events that took place In the past by the way <3

Genre; angst. Pure angst.

Word count; 1.4K

“I want to spend forever here” you whispered, rolling a daisy between your fingers. Bokuto smiled, admiring your soft face as you absent-mindedly plucked handfuls of white daisies from the earth. The sun was taking its setting descent and the both of you sat within the field near your home, soaking up the fleeting orange hazed dusk you found made the world seemingly stop around you. Bokuto hoped this moment would never end, maybe he would be able to stay here with you forever, enveloped and hidden in the daisies with the person he felt completed him. 

“Forever?” Bokuto laughed as his large hand found its way to your hair, combing through the strands gently. The forever he pondered about was the forever that, you too, wanted to remain in this serendipity that you had found. The last moments of sunlight glowed off your face as you shifted your head that lay upon his chest, turning your gaze to meet his golden eyes. “Forever” you nodded in conclusion, allowing Bokuto to delve into the look in your eyes. Your eyes held such an emotion, one that neither of you could explain just right, only made Bokuto think you spoke of that forever he wanted. The everlasting forever. 

“Excuse me?” a voice broke through Bokuto’s thoughts, looking up he was met with the receptionist that used to be situated behind the counter. She looked down at him with a smile, holding forward a folded up sheet of paper. “Congratulations on passing” she spoke kindly as Bokuto’s throat was clogged with heartbreak, unable to even force a half genuine smile.”thanks,” he nodded then stood up, not even taking another glance at the lady before making his way to the doors. 

The air outside of the building felt shallow as his chest wracked with pain. An all-consuming, sudden pain that tore through the already dissipating ounce of happiness he had left. He had just gotten his drivers license, something any teenager should feel ecstatic about. And there would have been that excitement if he was standing by your side, the person who had taught him to drive. 

“Alright! You ready?” you smiled, sitting in the passenger's seat of your car. Bokuto was sweating bullets, unable to remember what each dial, pedal and button did. He looked at you and his emotions were palpable through the way he kept his hands on his thighs, scared to crash although the car was off. 

“I don't think i can do this, y/n” he gushed hurriedly, looking at you for sympathy as you only smirked. “Yes you can! First step; hands on the wheel” the way you trusted him to do well eased his nerves slightly as his hands made hesitant contact with the steering wheel. 

You and Bokuto drove through a vacant street, his nervousness filtered out through the open windows as your laugh ceased any negative emotion he could have possibly been feeling beforehand. Street lights overhead passed by in blurs as the laughter you shared filled the car with a feeling neither of you knew would end as soon as it did. 

Bokuto now sat alone in his car, unable to ignore the stark space that now felt like this enormous pitch black beside him. The seat you used to fill now sat empty, the absence of your laugh felt more lonely than Bokuto had prepared himself for. This silence that surrounded him was deafening, splitting and tearing into his chest as the car switched on. A gush of chill air flushed over Bokuto’s face, stinging his teary eyes. Now, all over again, he went through the steps you had taught him. Knuckles burned white from the grip on the steering wheel as Bokuto tried to fight back his glossy eyes slipping tears. 

The harsh reminder of a promise he had made to you hung heavy on his slumped shoulders. 

Bright fluorescents shun down onto your figures, sitting in a roadside diner at one in the morning, didn’t cease the feeling flooding Bokuto’s senses. 

“Okay,” you pulled a white spoon from your lips, shoving it into the dish then sliding the sundae along the red and white table over to Bokuto. “We know, with my teaching skills, you're going to pass,” you smiled as Bokuto pushed a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. 

“So when that happens I want you to do something…” you said. Bokuto looked at you expectantly for a second as he pushed the sundae back over. “What is it?” He asked, wiping a drop of chocolate sauce off his cheek. 

“The second you pass, you drive up to my place.” 

Bokuto found himself sitting motionless, debating whether or not to comply with the agreement you had settled on. He knew it wouldn't help either of you, instead, he was fully aware how much it would hurt him to see you so happily moved on with that person he had seen on your story. Their blonde hair raked down on his insecurity of not being enough for you, maybe things would have lasted forever if his hair was shiny and golden blonde, worthy of shining like the sun next to you while his hair matched that of a rainy day, foggy and associated with gloom. 

Through cloudy vision, your street felt like a magnet against the car wheels, dragging him through unfamiliar suburbs to a place he seldom found himself not missing. He loved you in a way that was tender and kind, and you had loved him softly and with care, like gentle kisses goodnight and everything sweet in the world. But all good things must come to an end and it turns out love that is soft and tender can’t withstand the bitter test of time. 

Your house looked dark, except for the light in your room peaking through the dusk light that edged on the horizon. He waited for a moment, he wasn't sure what for, maybe for you to come running out with a smile, jumping into the passenger's seat once more so you could drive around aimlessly. But it turns out, his waiting came to seeing that blonde walk out of your home, carrying a bag over their shoulder. They stayed the night? 

Bokuto’s thoughts and feelings fused together from then, furious tears rolled down his cheeks freely, burning against his flushed cheeks from this realisation. The realisation that you now weren't around, not here with him and not waiting on him to drive to your place. He couldn't explain this feeling, memories of you searing into his mind as the car bleared some song on the radio, he hoped maybe it would silence your voice and the way you used to laugh with him in traffic ringing through his heartbroken soul. 

His car sat still in front of the daisy field, sniffling softly as his tears dried, looking down at your contact. He contemplated calling you, only to hear your voice even if for only a second. But the want quickly died out on his fingertips as it hovered over the call button, recalling how he was probably the last person on your mind at this moment. 

But what Bokuto didn't know was how you too sat in your car, the engine buzz filling the silence as you looked over the field of daisies, only two cars separating you from each other. You had just called off whatever you had with your fling, asking them to collect their things from your home, leaving out the detail that you still missed Bokuto. You missed his loud laugh, his voice, his hair that reminded you of rain in the most beautiful way. You found that the things you searched for in them, Bokuto had possessed in a way you couldn’t possibly compensate for. You looked at his contact, his name still adorning a heart beside it because you couldn't bring yourself to take it away. You wished to call him, using each fibre of your being to hold yourself back from seeking out the person still living within the crack of your broken heart, even though you didn't know he still kept you safely nestled in the space of his own. 

So you will both sit here, between cars and calls while drowning under waves of words you weren't saying. Among in this field of daisies you had shared when everything was perfect in your small piece of everlasting forever. 

[felidaefighter]

To Become A God

Contrary to popular belief, Dream had never been a god. He’d had a relatively normal childhood, and even though he could do a bit of magic here and there that wasn’t accessible to most other people the way potions and enchantments were, he wasn’t some all-powerful being. He trained hard for both his wits and his fighting prowess, and was rivaled decently-- at least at first-- by his close friends and allies. He loved his friends and his pets and the land that he had a loose domain over, and though he enjoyed fighting at the end of the day he would always choose peace if he could.

Somewhere along the line, something changed.

Hard to tell what, looking back. It came more as a dawning realization over months, like the drawn-out morning of a bloodred sunrise. As Dream watched everything everyone ever loved get dangled over them as leverage, burned, killed, destroyed; over and over and over again. As he saw even the tiniest specks of trust instantly betrayed by scam after scam. Attachment, he realized, was futile-- it was also the key to power and regaining control.

So he got rid of his attachments. Bit by bit by bit. Subtle, reserved, always careful to think ten steps ahead. He severed them all, strings of attachment that doubled as strings one could use to puppet him like a marionette, emotional bonds and physical items alike. Even then, he had his doubts, though-- at least until Tommy tried to taunt him with Spirit, of course. It was that night, after he had finished placing all the obsidian he had, that he noticed the first physical changes.

The heavy weight of armor suddenly felt lighter and more natural to Dream than his own body. Neither did the weight of sleep hang over him-- so he tested himself, because it was fun, because he could. He was already so much stronger and more skilled than his peers and allies, but now, without the need for sleep, these skills were easily doubled. He confessed to Technoblade that he didn’t sleep, and the piglin seemed to think this a statement of a tired man to be pitied. Dream smiled under his mask at that. It was always better to be underestimated, after all, even by those you are likely to ally with.

Dream did take his armor off, of course. He had to when he was pretending to respect L’Manberg and earn President Tubbo’s hesitant trust. He genuinely considered letting those fools take their attempt at his life when he heard about the intentions behind his invitation to the festival, laughable as it was, but quickly decided against it. They would only become harder to control if they had for even a moment a sliver of hope that they could kill him. Besides, he couldn’t keep going into L’Manberg with his armor off. Physically couldn’t. There was something... wrong. Or maybe something right that wasn’t human anymore. See, he had gone to take off his armor, just to make sure it hadn’t gotten too worn. Sat down in the community house and undid the leather straps that kept his boots on his feet, and went to inspect it. The emptiness in the boot and his foot were the exact same thing. So he came up with a plan to distract them instead, and detached himself, as he had with everything else, from whatever that sight and sensation was making him feel.

“In all destruction... there’s a new beginning,” Dream told Tommy, generous enough to share his newfound wisdom with the only other person who understood the truth about it all. All destruction. All new beginnings. “Beautiful.” Dream’s fingers weren’t really there under his gauntlets when he flipped on the redstone switches that began the crater, but Dream was there. The myth, the legend, himself in (almost) all his glory. Tommy called him a monster for it; maybe he wasn’t incorrect in the physical sense. In every other way, though, Dream knew he was right. It was what he had to do. The fact that it was fun only added to it all.

Hood and mask and layers upon layers of clothing, Dream had come prepared, because he knew that Tommy wouldn’t want him in armor, knew that Tommy would do what he had been taught and dig a hole for it, not knowing he was digging into his own soul as he did. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to demand the mask go in as well. Poor little Tommy, clawing for scraps of anything he thought Dream might have attachment to. Thinking he could be humiliated.

“Your armor as well,” Tommy said. Dream pondered that he could do with a mask of his own, for even though his posture and tone were attempting to radiate power, fear still radiated from his eyes like a beacon of too many feelings all in the same person.

“I don’t think you want me to do that, Tommy,” Dream replied, trying and succeeding to sound like a broken man. A much better liar than Tommy ever was; ironic for their histories.

Tommy always resorted to insults when he was nervous. “Don’t try to tell me what I want. Why don’t you want to take your mask off, huh? You ugly?”

And Dream smiled, a broad grin that mirrored the painted face of his mask-- but he didn’t let it show in his voice, tried to sound humbled and meek, for the sake of the show.

“There’s nothing under here but a nightmare.”

Nearly everyone scoffed and laughed a bit, especially Tommy, so Dream relished the way their faces dropped in shock and horror when he obliged and took off his mask. “Should I take my hood off as well?” Dream asked, pretending it was an honest question, and Tommy looked like he was about to puke. There was a shaky chorus of “no”s. It was funny to watch Tommy conflicted over whether he should take back what he previously said and let Dream put his mask back on or have to deal with the void that currently inhabited the space where Dream should have been (though still technically was.) Ultimately the former won out.

As seriously as the Warden took his job, he let Dream keep his mask even in the highest security cell. It was “unnerving”, he had said-- Dream found it a fun little prank to throw his clock in the lava for Sam to replace, and wait for the visit in silence with his mask off just to see the look of unease on the face of the man who was trying to seem intimidating and all-powerful. He withheld that little detail from Bad, and it certainly made an effect on what the demon thought of the situation. Dream thought a lot about his own situation, too-- just not the cell part of it. The rest of it.

He thought about what it meant to have attachment. He thought about power. About control. And about the magic that only he had been able to do, long before even this. Detachment from items, detachment from people, detachment from this plane of reality. He did still have an anchor-- this he knew. Their own little story they had written all for themselves, he and Tommy, that was just too fun to stop being attached to, at least for now. Tommy was the only other person who had ever understood what attachments truly meant-- only he had gone the exact other way, leaning into his emotions and becoming even more human. Even more killable, even more mortal. But Dream? Contrary to popular belief, he had never been a god. But everyone on the server had better hope they kept believing it. Because when the time was right and Tommy wasn’t fun anymore, he was going to be.

[kiingocreative]

The Structure of Story is now available! Check it out on Amazon, via the link in our bio, or at https://kiingo.co/book

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Every author starting out will know how important reviews are. If you’re yet to be convinced, here are some fun facts about reviews*:

1. 88% of consumers trust reviews as much as personal recommendations.

2. 72% of consumers will take action after reading a positive review.

3. Positive reviews tell Amazon and Google you’re worth ranking and can boost search results for your book by feeding into SEO (reviews account for almost 10% of total search ranking factors).

So reviews aren’t just a nice to have — they’re critical to the success of a book.

Now, amongst the writers community, we talk a lot about receiving reviews, but less so about giving reviews. I enjoy writing book reviews immensely, because it makes me think about what I’m reading on a different level, and forces me to learn how to articulate that opinion. This is actually one of the main reasons why I got into professional BETA reading.

I was asked recently how I structure my book reviews (all of which can be found on my blog), so here you have it: all the secrets to how I go about writing book reviews, along with some concrete examples!

Start With Why.

The most important question to ask yourself before you even start writing a review is this:

Why do people read book reviews?

In essence, they want to know whether the book is good, what it’s about, and — more importantly — whether they should read it. They generally like some context and detail to back the review so that they feel it’s genuine and trustworthy.

If you can keep in mind what people generally want to get out of a book review, this will help you keep your review relevant and useful. It’ll help you figure out what’s worth including and what isn’t. If in doubt, ask yourself what you would want to read about in a review when you’re trying to decide whether or not to buy a book.

Some Key Questions.

Before you start writing, you also need to ponder a few things. It may not always feel natural to reflect on a book on this level of detail — it didn’t for me at first. I either liked a book, or I loved it, or I didn’t, but I rarely spent a lot of time critically thinking about why I did or didn’t like a read.

If you’re also finding this uncomfortable at first, I say stick with it. I found it extremely interesting to make myself think these things through. It’s made my writing so much better, because I’ve developed that objective evaluation muscle that activates even when I’m with my own work. It’s also made me much better at forming and formulating an opinion, which is something I didn’t use to be good at!

Here are some questions to start with before you start on your review:

• Did you like the book?

• What did you like about it?

• What didn’t you like about it?

• Are there any themes that were particularly well handled?

• Were there any characters you liked above others, and why?

• Would you recommend the book to a friend?

These few questions will start shaping your view of what you’ve read and provide the main elements of your review.

To take your critical reading to the next level, you may want to ponder the various elements of the story and the writing as a whole. Think about:

• The plot / storyline — is it strong? Consistent? Original? Enticing? Are there gaps?

• The characters and character arcs — are all characters well developed? Multi-layered? Do they make sense? Are they relatable?

• The key themes — what are some recurring topics through the story? Are they well handled?

• The pace and timeline — is the story progressing at a good pace? Where does it lag? Does the timeline make sense?

• The writing style — how was the writing style? Did it flow well? Did it feel unique or original?

• The dialogues — did they feel natural? Were they believable? Were they engaging? Did they add to the overall story?

• The editing — how was the editing? Were there any typos or formatting errors?

Example Review Outline

Once you’ve spent some time with those initial questions, you’ll find it gives you the best part of your review content. At first, you may want to note down your answers to each of these. With time, you may find you can process these in your mind faster than you did before, and you don’t need so many notes. Whichever way is right for you, once you have this, you’re ready to start structuring your review.

I tend to use the following outline (though, of course, this isn’t the one and only way to write a review!):

1. Star Rating:

It’s most common in this day and age to include a rating in your review. There are talks out there about not leaving a rating on a book, because these can be extremely subjective — someone’s three-star rating may mean they loved the book but for others it’s a negative rating, some people don’t leave five-star reviews out of principle etc.

If you’re reviewing the book on Amazon and Goodreads however, you don’t have a choice but to pick a rating out of five stars. Have a think about how that rating system relates to you. For instance: would you leave five star ratings? What rating do you use for a book you liked versus a book you absolutely loved? What kind of book would warrant a low-rating? etc.

2. Opening:

Start with a short overview of what you thought of the book. This should give the reader a concise view of what you thought of the book, in two or three sentences. The idea is that, if they read only this opening part of the review, they should know your view on the matter.

Here’s an example opening paragraph I wrote for Heart of a Runaway Girl by Trevor Wiltzen:

‘Heart of a Runaway Girl is a breath of fresh air. As far as crime and murder investigation novels go, I only ever read Agatha Christie, so my standard is high. But this book did not disappoint.’

3. Synopsis:

The next section of the review is a short summary of the book, which should give the main elements of the plot. I tend to keep that part really short because I find that, if anyone wants to know the specifics, the book blurb the author so diligently wrote for the back cover is a much better place to learn more about that. Yes, you need to give a sense of what the book’s about, but it shouldn’t be the bulk of the review.

I think this is a matter of personal preference, I’ve seen reviews out there with a much longer synopsis section, but I always find myself skipping those bits to get to the nitty gritty of the review, which is what the person thought. There again, go back to the why — people who read reviews do so to find out whether or not they want to buy a book, so the more valuable pieces to help with that (in my view) are your opinions, more than an in-depth summary which they can find elsewhere.

For instance, when I reviewed Counter Ops by Jessica Scurlock, the second opus in the Pretty Lies series, I kept the synopsis paragraph to:

‘In Counter Ops, we meet a familiar duo, Ivy and Nixon, as they face the aftermath of the Elite Auction, and each endure its painful consequences. We follow their journey as they try to escape their fate and attempt to come to each other’s rescue — in more ways than one.’

4. Highlights:

The next part is what I call the ‘highlights’. This is where you talk about what you liked most about the book, or what you thought the strongest parts of the book were. This can focus on one element of the book (a character, a part of the plot, a theme etc.) or cover multiple elements.

See, for example, the highlights I picked for my review of Age of the Almek by Tara Lake:

‘I loved the author's ability to give every character their own voice and a distinct perspective on the world around them. I loved how involved I became with every character's fate and woes. I loved the precision with which the Almek world has been created, with such minuteness you can picture it down to the finest details.

My favourite part is the portrayal of the many facets of human nature, be it through the reactions of the masses to the barbaric ways of their rulers or the individual views of the protagonists. In every Almek citizen is a piece of the great puzzle that is humanity at large, and the author has a gift for writing it as raw and real as it gets.’

5. Mitigate your view:

Right after the highlights is where you’d add anything that mitigates your view. That’s anything that wasn’t quite as strong as you’d want it to be, or anything you weren’t a fan of.

You can skip this part if there’s nothing you didn’t like about the book — you don’t have to go nitpicking if nothing comes to mind. And it doesn’t have to be a bashing of the author and their work either. Keep it constructive and explain why you felt that way. There’s never a need for insults or expletives, and these wouldn’t enhance the quality of your review anyways. Formulating constructive criticism takes practice, and requires tact and subtlety. It’s a valuable skill to have if you’re willing to invest time in honing it.

Here’s how I phrased that part of the review for Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan:

‘But - and there's a but - my qualm with this book is that, for a story that revolves entirely around Nick and Rachel... There's actually very little Nick and Rachel in it!

Yes it's all 'about' them and it talks 'of' them loads, and we're told theyare happy together and want to be together... But it's all 'tell' and no 'show'. Their intimacy is sorely lacking, so I was left missing that added colour to convince me that they, in fact, do love each other. And I'm not talking saucy passages — I 'm talking about basic things suchas them actually talking to each other and spending time together.’

6. Conclusion:

The final part of the review is a short paragraph with closing remarks, such as a short summary of your view on the book, whether or not you recommend it or some indication of what readers the book may be for (e.g. ‘if you liked… you may like this book’).

When I reviewed Collision by Kristen Granata, I ended the review with:

‘Readers used to intricate, far-fetched romance plots may find this book too straightforward for their liking. In my mind, this is what makes the book's key strength: it's real and honest, it takes the reader through difficult situations and complex emotions beautifully, and that makes it all the more relatable.

A great read overall - and the moment I finished the last page, I was on Amazon ordering the next book in the series!’

How long should a review be?

I don’t think there should be a minimum or maximum word count to a review, though I find that mine end up being around 300 to 500 words. I feel this is a good length because as a reviewer this forces me to be concise and clear in expressing my opinions, and as a reader it’s long enough to give people a sense of the book, but not too long that they’ll drop off before the end.

Final Thoughts: To spoil or not to spoil?

My view on adding spoilers in your review is simple: DON’T.

Try as I might, I can’t fathom what could be gained from adding spoilers to a review. Once again: back to the why. Someone reads a review to find out if they want to read the book themselves. If you ruin the plot for them in that review, what’s the incentive to pick up the book?

It just hurts the author’s chances of making a book sale, and it robs a fellow reader of the joyful rollercoaster of finding out those plot twists at their own pace. Don’t do it, it’s just rude.

*Sources:

www.bookmarketingtools.com

www.searchenginewatch.com

www.dealeron.com

[moon-stars01]

~Sugar Rush~

Hoshi x Reader

Author:pseudomint

Summary: Kwon soonyoung finds himself becoming a regular customer in a local ice cream shop after meeting mingyu’s cute co-worker. Sounds normal—unless you leave out the fact that he dislikes sweets.

Pairing:Hoshi(Svt) x reader

Gene:Collage/University,Ice Cream polar,attempt at humor,flirting,Smitten Hoshi,Mingyu third wheeling,Jun and his pick up lines

Rating:Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count:6100

———————-

~SUGAR RUSH~

Hoshi stares at the cute, pastel building, decorated with stickers of ice cream illustrations on the big, glass windows and door. He checks his phone screen once again, only to see the exact picture of the building he found on the internet glaring back at him mockingly.

This is the place. He finally knows where Mingyu’s secret workplace is. Don’t ask him where he got the address from (he might have.. owed a certain pink haired devil named Jeonghan). All he has to do now is to storm inside the ice cream shop and make fun of Mingyu for all it’s worth.

Being friends with that guy for a long time, Hoshi has a vague idea of why would Mingyu hide his workplace. The guy has always been vocal about his worship for anything hip-related, evident by his love for classic Pop, several ear piercings, and fashion style. He’s studying art so that he can become a tattoo artist. Moreover, he has a history as a delinquent back in middle school.

So, working in a local, cute ice cream shop near their campus might not be included in Mingyu’s list of Top 10 Dream Jobs, even as a part-timer.

Hoshi stifles a grin as he pushes the door open, earning a chime from the bell above. The shop is quite vacant, save for three customers, minding their own businesses in three different seats, the ice cream on their plates or cups half-eaten. One of them is bobbing their head to the popular pop song that is heard through the wall speakers. As Hoshi continues to scan the pastel themed shop, his eyes finally land on the glass display, filled with various flavors and colors of ice cream.Hoshi can already feel a toothache—he’s never been a fan of sweets, after all.

Noticing the absence of the employees behind the counters, Hoshi spots a bell placed beside the cash register. His hand hovers above it, uncertain whether calling the shop clerk with a damn bell is even polite—obviously, this isn’t some kind of five-star gourmet restaurant. Not that Hoshi has ever been into one.

Thankfully, before Hoshi could dive further into his impromptu crisis, an employee emerges from the back door. He’s wearing a pastel blue uniform shirt and a pink apron with the shop’s logo on the left side of his chest. Such soft colors, contrast with the dark scowl on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here, bastard?” Mingyu snarls, clearly aggravated by the mere of Hoshi’s presence alone.

And Hoshi can’t hold it back anymore. He laughs, folding his body in half, one hand clutching his gut as the other supports himself by gripping the counter. Fuck, this is funnier than he initially thought. No matter how he imagined it, the image of Mingyu and a cute ice cream shop just can’t be merged. Yet, here he is—the reality presented right before Hoshi’s eyes.Hoshi wheezes again.

“Stop fucking laughing,” Mingyu hisses, hands clenching on both of his sides. His face is flushed from anger with a mixture of embarassment. “This is why I’d never fucking tell you about this place!”

“Oh, it’s never about the place, ‘Mingyu,”Hoshi replies, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. “It’s always been about you.”

Mingyu growls. “I’m seriously gonna kick you out.”

“I’m a paying customer,” Hoshi smirks back. “Treat me like one.”

“Then act like one,” Mingyu snaps, folding his arms across his chest, frown deepening. “Though I bet you can’t even handle the sweetness.”“Gimme the menu.”

“There’s one behind me, written on the chalkboard, asshole.”

“Wow, brilliant customer service,” Hoshi deadpans. “Don’t you have the printed one or something?”

“Aren’t you spoiled?” the hipster grumbles as he magically pulls out a menu, printed on a laminated paper from behind the counter. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to slap it against Hoshi’s chest.The act, however, is caught by one of Mingyu’s co-worker who’s suddenly coming out of the back room.

“Mingyu-oppa! Why did you do that to a customer?!” She screeches, horrified at her oppa’s rude behavior. She’s way shorter than Mingyu, and shorter than Kazuya. She has a (h/s) (h/c) hair that somehow looks soft and fluffy as the strands bounce everytime she moves.When their eyes finally meet,Hoshi’s lost the ability to speak.

Now, Hoshi’s never been one to believe in love at first sight, albeit having heard the idea of it in many sappy romance films. Hoshi’s also met many girls he considers as good-looking, but that’s it. There were no imaginary flowers or love-shaped bubbles or sprinkles of glitters around them, like a typical page of shoujo mangas. He didn’t feel his heart pounding harshly against his ribcages. He’s positive that he had never blushed at someone without any good reason.But his cheeks have never felt warmer than this moment.

The girl in front of him is unbelievably cute; she has an air of innocence around her that makes Hoshi want to scoop her up (no ice cream puns intended) in his arms and pinch those slightly chubby, round cheeks. Her cute button nose is perfect for a nose boop, and oh, how Hoshi wishes to nip her pink, plump lips.The girl’s tongue darts out to lick the very same lips, before she opens her mouth.

“Um.. are you okay? Is my co-worker hurting you?” She asks, brows furrowing in worry. Hoshi forces himself to look at her in the eyes, which is apparently a bad decision, because for the love of baseball, he’s never seen someone having such beautiful, molten e/c eyes—

“He’s fine,” Mingyu answers, shooting Hoshi a knowing look. “Sadly, I gotta admit that he’s a friend of mine, so don’t worry about him, y/n.”

“Oh!” Y/n brightens up, giving Hoshi an impression of a cute dog perking up its ears and wagging its tail. “Finally this l/n y/n gets to meet one of Mingyu-oppa’s friends!” She says joyfully with a voice a bit too loud. “May I also have the honor of knowing your name?”

Hoshi briefly glances at Mingyu, as if asking whether he should be concerned of Y/n’s odd, archaic way of speaking, but Mingyu’s expression works as a wordless assurance that it’s nothing to be worried about.Then, after eyeing Y/n’s extended arm as an offer for a handshake, Hoshi takes it firmly with a smirk.

“The name’s Kwon Soonyoung but you can call me Hoshi,” he purrs, his thumb tracing a circle on the back of Y/n’s hand. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Y/n.”His smirk broadens when a blush blooms on the girl’s cheeks.

“Uh—likewise!” Y/n retracts her hand too quickly. “Um, I’ll let you proceed with your order with Mingyu-oppa—“

“The thing is,” Hoshi cuts her off, leaning on the counter, showing a feigned, saddest expression on his face. “Mingyu was bullying me,” he sighs. The said guy promptly sputters a series of denials. “And this is my first time here. I think I deserve a discount for the bad customer service, don’t you think?”

Y/n lets out a scandalized gasp, giving Mingyu a nasty, chiding glare for treating their customer poorly, even if they’re ‘friends.’ “Then you have my approval!” She declares, jabbing a proud thumb at her own chin. “Don’t worry! I’ll tell boss about the discount later! Now, please pick any flavors!”Hoshi’s mouth twitches as a bubble of laughter arises from his chest. This kid is so gullible, so genuine, so interesting. He almost feels bad for tricking him.Mingyu kicks Y/n’s legs, “Idiot! Can’t you see that he’s tricking you?!”

When y/n shoots a puzzled look at Hoshi, Hoshi’s laughter breaks free from his mouth. In return, he gets a bristling y/n who goes out of her way to be on the other side of the counter just to shake Hoshi’s collar and send him colorful insults. Not the most professional thing an employee should do to a customer, but it’s worth for Hoshi’s own entertainment.In the end, Hoshi’s the one who gets kicked out of the shop before he causes more commotions.

Hoshi comes back at Mingyu’s next shift, mentally convincing himself that he’s here to annoy the hell out of the hipster, not because Mingyu accidentally reveals the fact that y/n has the same schedule with him.Yeah, right.

He peeks over the big windows, and hesitates. The shop is more crowded than his last visit, as expected from weekends. It’s mostly filled with couples and giggling high school girls. Hoshi decides to sit on the unoccupied outdoor seats by the window, waiting for the beeline to lessen.

Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for the patrons to decrease. By the time he enters the shop, the jingle of the doorbell earns him an automatic response from y/n who’s not even looking at the door. “Welcome to—“ she glances at Hoshi, then frowns. “—oh, it’s you.”

“Oh? Do I see another bad customer service?” Hoshi smirks, strutting closer the counter.

“I’ll show you customer service,” Mingyu threatens, glowering at him.

Hoshi holds up his hands in defense, grinning, “easy there, ‘Mingyu”

“So, are you going to order, Kwon Soonyoung?” Y/n squints at him in suspicion. Pushing aside his inner glee of noticing a mundane detail such as Y/n remembering his full name, Hoshi ponders of giving her an honest reply or not. Will they kick him out once again if he admits that he can barely handle sweet things?

“Hoshi?” Y/n’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his previous scorn is replaced with an owlish blinking. It makes Kazuya more aware of how y/n’s long eyelashes brush her cheeks whenever she closes her eyelids for a brief second.Pretty.“Hoshi!”Hoshi coughs and answers distractedly. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll order something.”

Mingyu stares at him like he’s grown a pair of horns, but it’s more like that he can’t seem to grasp that Hoshi, of all people, agrees to order something sweet.

“You sound uncertain, but worry not! The ice cream here will change your mind,” Y/n chirps with an eye smile. Hoshi can feel a thousand of cupid arrows piercing through his fragile, gay heart.

“Right, because Hoshi absolutely loves ice cream,” Mingyu mutters under his breath beside his co-worker with a blatant sarcastic tone.Y/n doesn’t seem to hear it, much to Hoshi’s relief.

“So...” Hoshi drawls, scrutinizing the menu near the cash register. “Do you have a flavor that isn’t too...” he grimaces at the next word, “sweet?”

“That’s impossible, go home.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mingyu.”

“I can recommend you some,” Y/n replies, ignoring Mingyu and Hoshi’s glaring contest. “We have wasabi flavor, bitter melon flavor—“

“Some extreme recommendations you have there,” Hoshi sweatdrops.

“Hey! They taste fine, I guess,” Y/n looks hesitant herself. Hoshi wonders if the girl even understands basic marketing strategies—she could’ve at least pretended to be confident with her promotion. “I mean, I’m sure they’re better than natto flavored ice cream or anything.”

“You hate natto?” Hoshi smiles in amusement, inwardly happy to know one fact about Y/n.

“I despise it!” Y/n huffs, not even bothering to conceal her disgust. “Anyway! If you’re not interested with our out-of-the-world flavors, maybe you’d love our triple shot espresso ice cream! If you’re still not convinced, we still have a variety of diet frozen yogurts that are guaranteed to be low-sugar!”Hoshi hums at the mention of anything caffeine-related, “triple shot espresso ice cream doesn’t sound bad. Get me the smallest cup, y/n.”

“Roger!” Y/n beams, giving a military salute before she busies herself with Hoshi’s order. Her moves behind the counter are swift, practiced, and surprisingly not clumsy. Her hips sway a little to the beat of the music—whose great idea it is to play a suggestive jazz music at a fucking ice cream shop in Saturday afternoon?—but Hoshi’s not really complaining. In fact, he enjoys the show a bit too much; he doesn’t even realize that he’s been propping one arm on the counter to support his chin while watching y/n with a mushy smile.“Wipe that disgusting expression off your face,” Mingyu comments, unimpressed.“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? As if I could overlook someone who looks like they’re seconds away from jumping my co-worker in public!” Mingyu hisses this time, still considerate enough to lower his volume.“Don’t worry, I’ll do that in private,” Hoshi winks.

“That’s not what I—“

“Do you want any additional toppings, Hoshi?” Y/n unintentionally interrupts their bickering. She’s now holding a small paper cup of a coffee-colored ice cream, head slightly to the side in an adorable manner, waiting for Hoshi’s response.

Although Hoshi’s brain is already short-circuited due to the amount of metaphorical sweetness that Y/n radiates, he still manages to croak out a reply of “almonds are fine”, in hoping that if the ice cream is still too sweet for his liking, the almonds would be able to balance the sugar.

Mingyu handles the payment without initiating any arguments with Hoshi for once, probably wanting to speed up the process of Hoshi leaving the shop. Either way, Hoshi has to leave indeed. He has other things to do, too.

“Thank you for purchasing, please come again~” come a chorus of synchronized phrase from Mingyu and Y/n; the former sounding bored and forced, while the latter sounding more cheerful.“I will,” Hoshi retorts jocosely, then flicks his gaze over Y/n, “if Y/n calls me her oppa, too.”

“Okay, Hoshi-oppa,” y/n breathes out without missing a beat. Her face instantly bursts into a myriad shades of red, complemented by a small, shy smile etched on her lips, and-Hoshi suddenly thinks he has a severe case of heart palpitations.

He inhales sharply, and turns his heels towards the door. “It’s decided, then,” he chuckles over his shoulder, giving his last smirk towards y/n, and exits the shop.

(He eats his ice cream on the way to his apartment and is genuinely surprised at the rich taste of coffee instead of sugar.It adds one more reason to visit the shop again.)

 Hoshi’s next visit includes an unwanted guest, much to Hoshi’s distaste.

For a better term, he was following Hoshi in secret. Usually, Hoshi would easily sense something behind his back, but the particular street that the ice cream shop is located at is always busy. It’s to be expected from a street that connects commercial, academic and several residential buildings. That being said, the crowd of people makes it hard for Hoshi to notice whether someone is following him or not.In the end, Jun makes his presence known loudly by the time he enters the shop.

“Oi, Hoshi! You refused to hang out with me just to buy some ice cream?!” he stomps his foot on the ground. “Wait, I thought you don’t like ice—“

Hoshi, who’s currently leaning on the counter right in front of Y/n, automatically massages the bridge of his nose and quickly interjects the purple haired before he spouts something unnecessary. “Jun, did you really follow me all the way here?”

“Does it matter?” the purple haired shrugs, sticking his nose up in the air. “I’m here now. That’s what you get from ditching me.”

Hoshi sighs in exasperation, “I did not ditch you. I told you to reschedule our hang out.”

“Same thing,” Jun scoffs stubbornly.

Mingyu bashes his forehead on the counter, emitting a depressed aura all over the shop. “Great. There goes all of my peace at work.”

“Oh, Mingyu! Fancy meeting you here!” Jun greets with a grin. “So you’re the reason why Hoshi’s here?”

“No,” both Mingyu and Hoshi say flatly.

“Um, are you going to order?” Y/n, who’s been observing the situation, speaks up, attracting a pair of black orbs towards him. Then, Jun regards Hoshi and Y/n, back and forth, in a thoughtful manner.

“Oh ho? I see now,” he grins wickedly, elbowing Hoshi to the side and takes over his place, resulting in the dancer stumbling and hitting the glass display of ice cream. Paying no attention to Hoshi’s heated glare, Jun leans over the counter and brings his face closer to Y/n. “You’re pretty cute, I guess. Hoshi has a good taste.”Y/n makes a choking noise from her throat, and Hoshi’s left eye twitches.

“Who the heck are you?” Y/n scrunches her nose, taking one step backwards defensively.

“Wen Junhui, but you can call me darling,” Jun smiles flirtatiously. Y/n only stares back with a palpable discomfort on her face.

“...Then, are you going to order?” She repeats hesitantly.

“Sure. As long as you’re included as the bonus.”

“Uh,” y/n frowns deeper. “May I know the flavor of your choice?”

“Anything would do,” Jun answers, “but if you were an ice cream, you’d be my favorite flavor.”

“What?”

“And I know you’d like me too,” jun then lowers his voice into a whisper, like he’s going to tell the world’s deepest secret, “because I have an 8” popsicle down there.”

Mingyu’s shoulders are shaking from laughter, finding the whole situation amusing and ridiculous. Any other day, Hoshi would, too, but right now, he only feels a second-hand embarassment from Jun’s abhorrent pick-up lines. Even y/n looks utterly unimpressed by Jun’s flirting.

“Alright, Jun, that’s enough,” Hoshi interjects impatiently. “No one wants to know about your nonexistent 8” popsicle dick.”Mingyu laughs louder.

“Tch, you’re no fun, Hoshi,” Jun glares at him childishly, then whirls his body towards Y/n crossing his arms in his usual bossy manner. “Fine, I’ll order something. Get me a big cup of butterscotch and vanilla ice cream with marshmallows and oreos on top.”

“...Coming right up,” slightly taken aback by the change of attitude, y/n mutters and wordlessly scoops the ice cream into the cup, while Hoshi is inwardly cringing from the amount of sugar Jun’s order has.

The purple haired pays and finally leaves the shop, not before gesturing a V-sign to his eyes and then to Hoshi’s—indicating that their conversation isn’t over.

Hoshi shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be discussed in the first place,” he mumbles under his breath. Jun dragged himself into this situation. Then again, Hoshi’s known Jun long enough to tell that the purple haired wasn’t seriously flirting with Y/n. The dancer could properly make his fangirls swoon if he wanted to.

Looking back to his prior act, however... it’s almost as if he was testing Hoshi, because his eyes were holding a familiar knowing gleam—the exact glint in Mingyu ’s eyes when Hoshi first met y/n.

“But seriously, who is he?!” Y/n fumes. “I can’t believe he made a dick joke straight to my face!”

“He’s Hoshi’s ex,” Mingyu grins, nudging

y/n with his elbow. The younger blanches, mouth gaping upon hearing the information.

“Yup, and I’m totally dating you, Mingyu,” Hoshi rolls his eyes.

“R-really?!” Y/n’s eyes grow as wide as a saucer. Hoshi bites back a grin, almost forgetting how gullible Y/n is.

“Relax, we’re lying,” he snorts. “Can I take my order now?”

“Oh, right!” Y/n straightens her back, although she doesn’t seem to be convinced by Hoshi’s reassurance.

Hoshi selects the exact menu he ordered on his last visit, although this time he chooses a cone rather than a paper cup. He also makes a mental note to try another variety of topping next time.

“You two looks close,” y/n comments all of a sudden as she works behind the counter. It doesn’t take a genius to know who Y/n is talking about.“Jun’s my childhood friend,” Hoshi

smiles, quirking an eyebrow at Y/n’s pout. She’s sulking, for some unknown reason, albeit Hoshi has a silly, vague (and hopeful) idea of it. “Rest assured, there’s nothing between us,” Hoshi continues, watching how Y/n subtly relaxes her shoulders. “That goes for me and Mingyu, too,” she adds as an afterthought. Mingyu has never nodded so aggresively.

“That explains why you guys are on a first name basis,” Y/n says abashedly, avoiding Hoshi’s gaze. “B-but! Your relationship is none of my business, of course! This

l/n y/n was just curious, please forgive me for prying!”

Still blushing, she shoves the cone under Hoshi’s nose. Hoshi chuckles and takes it, purposely brushing their fingers together, deepening y/n’s blush. Satisfaction sprouts inside his chest—even without any cheesy pick-up lines, y/n’s naturally a blushing mess around him.Adorable.

“This is sickening to watch,” Mingyu groans, “now pay up, bastard.”

Out of reflex, Hoshi gives him another snide remarks about bad customer service (again), to which Mingyu retaliates with another empty threats.

The doorbell jingles as two chatting customers enter the shop, and at the same time, it’s Hoshi’s cue to leave. He looks back at Y/n, who’s unexpectedly staring at him in silence, and grins cheekily when Y/n flinches due to being caught.“See you next time,” Hoshi says in soft tone, before he playfully boops y/n’s on the nose.

Y/n doesn’t—can’t—reply because she has to serve the next customers, but she manages to send a meek smile towards Hoshi’s direction.

Fuck, Hoshi thinks later, as he ambles back to his place. He can’t believe he finally had the balls to nose boop y/n. He can’t erase y/n’s blushing face from his mind. He can’t stop smiling giddily right now—passersby are probably whispering about him, but he couldn’t care less.All he cares is that he’s honestly in some deep shit.

~~~~~~

 Hoshi spends the next few weeks coming to the ice cream shop. He sometimes misses a day or two, partially due to being exhausted by dancing practice or just college in general. Another reason is because he’s fed up with eating ice cream (no matter how much he’s come to tolerate it a little ever since coming to the shop) and his diet as an athlete doesn’t allow him to overeat anything sweet. Which is ridiculous, since he doesn’t have other excuses to see Y/n; visiting the shop frequently without buying anything would be weird. Though, as days go by, he becomes more creative with his orders, like switching to low-sugar frozen yogurts or an iced Americano float (with the float being removed, much to Y/n’s confusion). Soon, he also finds out the existence of food—such as toasts and grilled sausages—in the shop’s menu.(“You need to stop ogling at Y/n and pay attention to our menu instead,” Mingyu once chastised wryly.)

Regardless, Hoshi enjoys most of his visits. Y/n is a fun person to talk to; Hoshi is often swayed by her personality and ends up being more talkative than he actually is, earning a frown from Mingyu. Later, Y/n reveals that she’s a dancer at Hoshi and Mingyu’s rival college, and she has jokingly asked Hoshi several times to dance against her.Hoshi’s never given an outright answer, however. As much as he wants to meet up with Y/n outside of the shop, he wants it as a date.

And that’s where the problem lies. He doesn’t know how to properly bring it up. He could ask Y/n in the shop, right beside Mingyu, but getting rejected in public would be awkward. In the end, that thought is always buried to the back of his mind.

Today is no different. Hoshi visits the the shop again—after being absent for a week prior—with no intentions of bringing up the date. As usual, he only wants to see the dancer. Even before stepping his feet inside, his heart thumps in anticipation to Y/n’s welcoming smile. So, as soon as he pushes the door open only to notice the absence of one of the workers behind the counters, his face falls.

“Asshole, I should’ve gotten offended of how disappointed your face is when you saw me instead of Y/n,” Mingyu scowls, to which Hoshi grins sheepishly. “She’s gonna be late today. I know what you’re thinking—she’s fine. There aren’t any dangerous emergencies or something like that, calm down.”

“I am calm,” Hoshi replies, burying his hands into his pockets. “I know she’s gonna be fine. She has such a caring co-worker after all,” he smirks at Kuramochi, who huffs in slight embarassment.

“Shut up. Who knows what stupid thing she’s gonna do,” the hipster’s lips curl downwards, an attempt to hold back his smile. “Anyway, since she’s not here yet, I can finally interrogate you.”

“What is there to interrogate?”

“What is y/n to you?” Mingyu ignores his words, giving him a pointed look instead. “If you’re only playing with her, Hoshi, I swear – “

“Oi, can’t you trust me a little?” Hoshi sweatdrops. “Do I look like some kind of heartthrob? You know me better than that, ‘Mingyu.”

“With your face, it’s easy to become one.”

“Very flattering.”

“Anyway, I’m being fucking serious right now,” Mingyu glowers at the dancer solemnly. “Tell me what you want from her.”

Hoshi eventually sighs, and briefly scans the whole shop. Luckily, it’s one of the weekdays, so there aren’t many customers inside. Besides, they’re too engrossed in their conversations or electronical devices to eavesdrop on Hoshi and Mingyu.

“Look, I don’t want anything from her,” Hoshi begins slowly, but he’s only rewarded with a skeptical look from Mingyu. “Okay, maybe I’ve been meaning to ask her on a date, but—“ he narrows his eyes at the hipster. “Wait, she’s single, right?”

“Isn’t it a bit too late to be asking that?” Mingyu purses his lips into a thin line.

“Oh, Hoshi, you’re here!”

Both the hipster and the dancer whip their head alarmingly to the familiar voice. There stands y/n with her trademark grin, her bag slung around her shoulder. Panic blossoms inside of Hoshi’s chest—he didn’t hear the jingle of the doorbell, and judging from Mingyu’s startled response, he didn’t, too. They don’t know how long has the dancer been standing there. It’d be bad if Y/n managed to hear their conversation.

So, Hoshi studies y/n’s facial expression, searching for something, but the dancer only looks perplexed—probably due to Hoshi’s sudden stillness.

“Hoshi?” Y/n blinks up at him, making Hoshi more conscious of their height difference. Eyes trailing down to her neck, the pastel-colored collar of the shop’s uniform peeks out of her oversized sweater that falls until her mid-thigh, with the sleeves covering up her whole hands.

Sweater paws, Hoshi’s mind shuts down as tiny Hoshi’s inside his brain run in circles, screaming “ABORT! ABORT!” with high-pitched voices. She’s fucking wearing sweater paws.

“Hoshi-oppa!” Y/n frowns, successfully drawing Hoshi’s attention. “Don’t zone out like that, you’re scaring me.”

“Right, sorry,” the dancer mutters as he watches Y/n disappearing into the back room, before she shows up again without her sweater while tying the apron on her lower back.

“I see that you haven’t ordered something!” Y/n grins brightly, this time placing both of her hands on her hips. “So, what are you here for today, Hoshi?”

Hoshi, still distracted, racks his brain to all of the menu he’s ordered in the past. Triple shots espresso ice cream with almonds. Iced americano float, but without the float. Wasabi ice cream because he was feeling adventurous. Hazelnut spread and sliced banana on toast—

No, that’s not What hoshi wants all of this time. He wants—

“You,” he blurts out, mumbling, unaware of Mingyu choking in the background. However, when he notices the lack of response from the dancer, the haze in his brain suddenly dissipates, and everything becomes crystal clear again. “Shit, I mean—“

“Okay,” Y/n says, e/c orbs shyly peeking from underneath her lashes towards Hoshi.

“I was—huh, what?” Hoshi pauses, dumbfounded.

“I said okay,” Y/n averts her eyes, playing with the hem of her apron. “You can have me.”

Hoshi stares and stares, trying to process Y/n’s affirmation. That sounds too suggestive—too good to be true. Maybe his brain is tricking him. Maybe this is only a scene that he unconsciously creates inside his mind which is brought to life in a form of hallucination.

But when Y/n starts to fidget under his gaze, Hoshi lets his brain register the fact that this is, indeed, a reality.

As the gears inside him begin to work again, Hoshi doesn’t pass the chance to poke some fun at Y/n’s answer which basically serves as a free teasing material for Hoshi to use.

“Oh? How bold,” he then comments, smirking in satisfaction as he observes how realization gradually dawns on Y/n’s face.

“I didn’t mean to phrase it like that!” the dancer exclaims defensively, her cheeks now tainted with red. “Y-you were the one who blurted out weird things in the first place!”

“Sorry, sorry~” Hoshi grins unapologetically, to which Y/n pouts at. “But, as tempting as it sounds, you should let me take you on a date first, y’know,” he continues, his playful grin faltering a little due to slight nervousness.

To his relief, Y/n utters a timid “okay” and nods, a tint of pink still decorating her cheeks. At that, Hoshi doesn’t bother to hide the ever-growing smile on his lips and an excited glance to Mingyu who’s pretending to read a magazine and acting all disinterested, albeit the small curl on the corner of his mouth tells otherwise.

The next thing Hoshi knows is him exchanging phone numbers with the dancer and discussing their date in a short stretch of time due to the arrival of a group of customers.

Hoshi doesn’t get any ice cream that day, but he does get something—someone—sweeter in return.

 ~Three months later~

 Hoshi sips on his hot, black coffee, the steam fogging up the lenses of his glasses. He steps aside when a patron comes out of the shop hurriedly, but he manages to halt the door from closing with his right knee. Hoshi then opens the door big enough for his body to get inside as the familiar chime of the doorbell greets his ears. The shop is silent, empty without customers, highly caused by the “CLOSED” sign on the door with a red, thick font.“I’m sorry, we’re already closed—“ Y/n says from Hoshi’s left side while stacking some brochures. When she finally turns her head towards the door, a beatific smile appears on her face. “Oh! Hoshi.”

Hoshi smiles back, placing his coffee on the counter and leans towards Y/n, to which the latter eagerly closes the gap between their mouths. They share a quick kiss as a greeting, before Hoshi withdraws slightly.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lips brushing over

y/n’s. He steals one or two more kisses, just because he can’t help himself.

“Hi to you too,” Y/n whispers, giggling. Hoshi cradles his lover’s cheeks with one of his palms, prompting Y/n to nuzzle against it. From here, he can also make out Y/n’s e/c eyes twinkling in delight—so captivating and blinding that it stupefies him.

“For someone who’s on her last day of work, you sure look happy,” Hoshi comments, arching an amused brow.

“I am happy!” Y/n replies, pulling away fully to finish her tidying duty. She moves swiftly behind the counters, the sole of her shoes creating noisy sounds against the tiled floor. “But not in a way you’re thinking.”

“Enlighten me, then,” Hoshi says, bringing the paper cup of his half-drunk coffee to his mouth and takes a sip.

“I like this job,” Y/n confesses, finishing her work and untying her apron. “My co-workers are nice, and my boss is generous to give me discounted ice cream.”

“I think the latter plays a bigger part,” Hoshi teases, knowing Y/n’s sweet tooth.

“Shut up,” the dancer juts her tongue out. “Meeting you here is what makes this job more special,” Y/n casually states, offering a smug smirk at Hoshi’s flabbergasted expression.

“Wow, Y/n,” he breathes out, before whistling with a shake of head. “You sure become bolder with your words nowadays.”

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?!”Y/n questions, pupils turning cat-like.Hoshi hums. “Well, you used to blush so much around me—“

“That’s – “ as if on cue, red creeps up to y/n’s cheek. “That’s because you always gave me those kind of eyes and used that kind of voice—!”

“What about now?”hoshi smirks, revelling in the way Y/n gets all worked up because of him. A nasty personality he has, indeed.

“Ugh, I’m not gonna talk about it!” the dancer scrunches her nose, a habit that Hoshi’s taken to notice whenever Y/n is frustrated. “Anyway! I was talking why I feel happy to quit work! It’s because I can spend more time with you now!”If Hoshi’s heart pulsates rapidly due to the abrupt swarm of affections in his veins, he does a great job of hiding it. “The real reason why you quit is because of the upcoming dancer season. We’d still be busy, either way,” he points out instead.

“Must you be so pessimistic, Hoshi?” Y/n pouts, looking a little dejected. Hoshi exhales guiltily.

“My bad,” he chuckles, ruffling the crown of Y/n’s head. “You know that I’d always try to make time for you, right, Y/n?”

“Of course you do, you whipped asshole. Only you would come to a shop that sells something you dislike.”

“Mingyu-oppa!” Y/n jumps due to

Mingyu’s unannounced appearance from the back room, before gawking at his revelation. “Wait, what? Does Hoshi not like ice cream?”

“Ask him yourself,” Mingyu shrugs.

Y/n immediately whirls towards Hoshi, displaying her best puppy face to lure the truth out of her boyfriend. And concede Hoshi does, not before shooting daggers at a snickering Mingyu.

“Yes, y/n, I don’t eat much sweets. You happy now?” he admits reluctantly, tugging the collar of his jacket in embarassment.

“Oh my god, Hoshi!” Sawamura bounces on her feet. “After all of this time, you didn’t come here for the ice cream?!”

Hoshi sighs, not before downing the remnant of his coffee and throwing it in the nearest trash bin. “I don’t see what the issue is. It’s not like I exactly loathe ice cream, I just can’t handle it if it’s too sweet—“Y/n, however, wastes no time to approach Hoshi on the other side of the counter, circling her arms around Hoshi’s neck and kisses him hard on the mouth.

The hipster groans in agony, covering his face with his right palm. “This isn’t the outcome that I wanted,” he bemoans, lamenting in his misery.

Hoshi laughs nasally, eyes closing in pure mirth as Y/n continues to pepper kisses on his face. It eggs Mingyu even more as he seethes in irritation.“Okay, stop it, Y/n! Why the fuck are you so pleased at the idea of Hoshi trying to get himself diabetes for you?”

“Oi, that’s too exaggerating, don’t you think?” Hoshi sweatdrops.

Y/n ends her ministration and frowns at Mingyu. “But Mingyu-oppa! If I were in Hoshi’s shoes, I’d do the same! But currently he’s not working in a natto-based restaurant or something, so I shall reward his bravery in some other way!”

“Don’t do it here,” Mingyu snaps, “I’ve cleaned and locked all shit in the back room while you were busy with that idiot. Grab your bag and sweater and just go home.”Teary-eyed, Y/n beams brightly, “I express my sincerest gratitude for you,

Mingyu-oppa!” She exclaims, before dashing to the back room to collect her belongings.“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu waves her off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t read too much into it. It’s my last day too, figures I’d do more than usual.”

“Aw, it wouldn’t hurt to admit that you care for her, ‘Mingyu,” Hoshi coos.

“And you!” Mingyu then throws the dancer a resentful look. “You owe me for all of the time you’ve made me into a fucking thirdwheel, bastard!”

At that moment, Y/n has come back, already clad in her warm, oversized sweater, and proceeds to stand next to Hoshi. That’s when an idea strikes him.

“Thirdwheel?” Hoshi asks, tilting his head at Mingyu in a faux innocuousness. He pulls his unsuspecting girlfriend closer by the waist, to which Y/n lets out a soft gasp. “Whatever do you mean by that, Mingyu?”

“Huh?” Mingyu croaks out, widening his eyes when Hoshi lowers his head to Y/n’s face with a shit-eating grin.

“What are you – shit, don’t you two dare making out again – give me a damn break, I’m trying to close the shop here! If you two don’t stop right now, I’m gonna kick out both of you with a fucking broom – oi, did you hear me?! Alright, for fuck’s sake, Y/n, save the moan for later and GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE—“

[choices-love-affair]

Fever Pitch - Part 2

So I know I said this would be a two-part fic buuuuuut... it’s going to be more than that. This is set between Ethan returning from the Amazon, and goes into detail what happened that night, all from his perspective.

The last two months had been agonising for Ethan. Whilst he acknowledged that putting the physical and emotional distance between he and Lorelei was going to be undoubtedly difficult, he never could have imagined just how soul destroying and debilitating it would truly be. While the days spent working under stressful and often challenging environments occupied his headspace for the most part, it was the long and quiet nights that were all-consuming and drowning him in his own resentment. Watching her name flash up on the screen incessantly for the first few weeks had been difficult beyond compare, and as the phone calls and messages slowly dwindled out, his self-worth became non-existent. Truth be told, he was scared of the things he had said and even more so of the things he had done, fuelled by the fear of the unknown, cautious of relinquishing control and most of all, acutely aware of how inadequate he believed he was for her.

And so, he ran from his feelings, just as he always did.

He had spent every day since that night in his office, tortured, reminiscing upon the times Harper had told him it was his inability to commit wholeheartedly - a ‘flaw’ she had called it, that would ultimately be his undoing. And whilst he was unphased when Harper left him, the situation with Lorelei occupied a completely different tier entirely. It was love, and it petrified him, whether he cared to admit it or not.

And for some god forsaken reason, she seemed to love him in return. Despite all the undesirable things he believed he represented as a man, she loved him. Flaws and all.

“I’m not deserving” he whispered to himself under his breath.

His feelings towards her had never subsided whilst he was away like he had hoped. If anything, they had amplified exponentially, and by the time he and the team felt like they had finally achieved what they had set out to do in the Amazon and return home, it was as though a lifetime had been spent. Would she even still be there? He thought to himself as he approached the plane and settled into his seat for the flight home.

“If you leave, I can assure you I won’t be here when you get back.” Her words on a constant loop, repeating themselves through his mind over and over, torturing him any opportunity they could.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your Captain Stokes and Co-Pilot Saunders speaking. We anticipate a clear flight with an estimated arrival time into Boston Logan International Airport at 4.45pm. If you require any attention whatsoever, please do not hesitate to contact the crew who are more than happy to assist. So please, sit back and enjoy the flight.” the Captains voice cut through Ethan’s reverie over the loudspeakers.

It was time to go back home. Back to her.

                                                        ***

The constant swing of the door as patrons filled into Donahues beer garden, accompanied with the thrumming music from the jukebox, quickly turned the ambient hum into a buzzing and somewhat irritating noise that rubbed Lorelei the wrong way, a bad mood that had endured for the duration of his absence. Despondent that he had left, and exasperated that she remained there, waiting, the enduring bad mood constantly fuelled. The group of doctors sat at their new normal table out in the new beer garden – Lorelei often wondered if it was their constant patronage that led to Reggie having the means to finally afford the renovations – while the group enjoyed the twinkling clear sky, the drinks and conversation flowed all the same.

As Ethan approached the establishment, his heart was hammering so hard in his chest, he was sure he would sooner suffer from a literal stroke before he made it through the front door. Immediately approaching the bar and searching for liquid courage before even contemplating searching for the real reason he was there, he quickly gained Reggie’s attention.

“Ethan! You’re back, my friend!” Reggie exclaimed loudly, walking around the bar and up to Ethan in a few quick strides, enveloping him in a wholesome and genuine hug “the place wasn’t quite the same without you, ya moody bugger! Not to mention nobody appreciates the top shelf stuff quite like you do” he joked, giving Ethan’s shoulders a brisk shake, accompanied with a cheeky wink.

“Hello, Reggie” Ethan mused, smiling smally back at his friend

“You like what I’ve done with the place?” Reggie asked, gesturing around at his bar and smiling adoringly as his pride and joy.

“You’ve done well, my friend” Ethan replied absently, looking around behind him at the booths and watching each one with a lingering assessment

“Ahhh….” Smirked Reggie knowingly “she’s outside enjoying the new beer garden” he whispered conspiratorially into Ethan’s ear “just in case you were wondering” he continued, shrugging innocently before raising a cocked eyebrow at Ethan’s feigned confused face

“I don’t know-“

“Oh please! Do not insult me by pretending I’m wrong” he patted Ethan on the back affectionately before walking back to the other side of the bar, gesturing his head to the back door encouragingly again before returning to serve patrons waiting for their next drink.

Ethan took one last steadying breath, preparing his hopeful heart for the best, yet fearing very much the inevitable worse. As he pushed through the door and stepped out into the night, the scene before him hit him square in the face as time slowed to a near standstill. One by one, her friends stopped mid conversation to stare at him.

“He’s back!” he heard whispered from the table, and then it happened – she turned around, and his heart all but stopped. As their eyes locked, he found himself right back where he left two months ago - doubtful, anxious and under the abhorrent belief that he was undeserving of all that she was and inspired.

                                                        ***

“How am I supposed to push you to be everything you can be if I…” Ethan trailed off, unable to finish his thoughts, and as he watched her face fall, he could feel his heart and hers breaking all over again. He watched intently as her whole demeanour changed, shifting from responsive to shattered in a millisecond, as she searched his face for any sign of redemption.

“Goodnight, Dr Ramsey. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her voice cool and dangerously calm echoed in the vacant beer garden, as she turned on her heel and walked out the door without a second glance back. Ethan watched her retreating form before sighing in frustration, turning back to the table to down the contents of his glass in one swift mouthful, watching the flames of the fire flick and dance up into the silent night. He pondered for a long while, before he heard the creak of the back door and the soft thud of footsteps approach him.

“Not a good time Reggie…” warned Ethan, not once looking up from the transfixing flames

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint, but when I heard third hand that my favourite son was back in town and that I was yet to hear from him myself, I decided to come find him instead” a familiar voice chastised Ethan as the bench seat shifted underneath the newly added weight now joining him. Ethan turned in fleeting surprise to see Naveen seated next to him, a knowing look on his face. Ethan’s expression quickly returned to a self-pitying somber, a small scoff escaped him

“I’m your only son” he retorted back, rolling his eyes, and turning back to his glass, filling it with more amber liquid.

“Then I am at liberty to remind you that you are obliged to listen” Naveen emphasised knowingly, staring at Ethan’s profile, a pang of sympathy for the younger, conflicted doctor seated before him.

“Really not in the mood to have all my failures laid before me, Naveen. I can assure you I’m capable of the self-loathing all on my own” Ethan laughed humourlessly, downing the drink as quick as the last on.

“There is something fundamentally wrong with me, Naveen” he shook his head at himself in disbelief, playing with the empty tumbler, knowing Naveen knew exactly what he was talking about.

Naveen tsked at the hopelessness emitting from Ethan, as he waited for him to continue. Silence ensued the two men as they both sat in their own private contemplation.

“I left because I thought it was what was best, for both of us. But every second I was gone I couldn’t help but regret every little thing I said and did… or didn’t say” explained Ethan, hazarding a side glance at Naveen, concerned he would be met with condescending disappointment. Instead, all he received was Naveen’s warm and encouraging expression, which immediately began to crumble Ethan’s resolve, tears welling in his eyes as he quicky looked away “I don’t even know what I was expecting when I came here. That she was just going to welcome me back with open arms? Just the sight of her petrifies me, for reasons I’ll never understand. I’ve hurt her more than I’ll ever care to admit, and I did that all on my own, Naveen. I tried so hard to maintain her reputation but all I did was shatter her wholesome heart. How can I ever expect her to work on the diagnostics team when I’ve done what I’ve done?!” he explained, a small shiver jolting through him as he realised how much damage he had caused.

Ethan paused, allowing himself a chance to gather his thoughts as he found himself becoming increasingly emotional, but also hoping Naveen may contribute something to help put him out of his misery. When Naveen said nothing, Ethan added

“I ripped her heart out when I left. I know I did because I ripped mine out too” he shook his head at the memory

“I know” Naveen finally added, as Ethan looked at him quizzically

“I was the one who picked up your pieces, Ethan. She was a mess when you left, and it took me the good part of two months to convince her that you were actually coming back! She thought you weren’t returning, that it was all her fault” explained Naveen, looking at Ethan pointedly “I won’t deny I was disappointed with you, son. How you dealt with the whole situation was inexcusable- “

“Helpful, thank you” Ethan interjected sarcastically

“BUT!” Naveen continued warningly “… it isn’t too late. She will hear you out Ethan, you just need to talk.” Naveen placed his hand upon Ethan’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze to emphasise the importance of what he was trying to say, as Ethan considered the older man’s words for a long while.

Wordlessly he stood up and collected his things, glancing at Naveen with newfound confidence and began walking to the exit. A smug, knowing grin spread across Naveen’s face as he realised he had managed to sway the internal riot in Ethan’s mind favourably

“Oh, and Ethan!” called Naveen, swiveling on the bench and meeting Ethan’s eyes as he turned back at the sound of his name “don’t ruin it. You and I both know what this girl means to you, and she doesn’t deserve this mess” he reminded his prodigy – medical mastermind, romantic dunce. Ethan nodded at Naveen before exiting the door and making his way to her apartment.

By the time he reached her front door, he was puffing, albeit more from anxiety than any kind of physical exertion, as he prepared himself mentally, tapping gently on the door.

Lorelei answered, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, woolly socks and a messy bun that was haphazardly tied on the top of her head.  Her face cycled through various emotions as she registered it was Ethan that stood before her, while also acutely aware of what she was wearing and where they were, before landing on irritated curiosity.

“Hi?” she shot, looking at him through narrowed eyes, her body language quickly turning defensive, “what do you want?”.

Taglist: @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @mvalentine @kaavyaethanramsey @newcolonies @missmiimiie @nooruleman @drethanramslay @agent-breakdance @angela8756 @utterlyinevitable @maurine07 @professorkingslay @shanzay44 @youamazemex21 @queencarb @mysticaurathings @manu303 @chaotic-pixie

[captainkippen]

idk if you're still taking prompts but, TJ as a tattoo artist and Cyrus getting his first tattoo. i love your writing so much, my friend and i just spent an hour talking about how much we love 1986 and best laid plans kskskskss

This ask is literally like over a year old, I’m so sorry. Thank you for your kind words about my fic though!

The Sun Sets Of Itself

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Cyrus said, peering into the studio.

Behind him, Buffy and Andi shared an unimpressed look. They’d been through this entire song and dance at least three times since they got on the bus to get to the shop, and that had been after the several months of Cyrus going back and forth on whether it was a good idea or not.

“Dude, if you don’t want to do it you don’t have to,” Buffy sighed.

Cyrus worried at his lip for a moment, eyes flicking up to the intricately painted lettering.

‘DARKSIDE TATTOOS.’

The studio had a five-star rating on Google. Its reviews all said the shop was clean, the staff polite and the artwork itself was of excellent quality. Cyrus had spent weeks pouring over their Instagram, checking out the individual artists and stressing out about the exact wording of his booking email. It was perfect.

“But I do want to,” he said.

The girls groaned. Andi looked heavenward with an expression on her face that said Cyrus might die by her hand if he didn’t walk through that door in the next ten minutes.

“Look,” she said. “Like Buffy said, you don’t have to, but you know if you don’t you’ll end up regretting it. This was your idea dude.”

It was true. He had wanted it badly enough that he’d gone to his Rabbi to talk through it. The idea had been sitting in his head since he was thirteen; a rose for his Bubbe, just over his heart, with her favourite phrase written underneath in Hebrew.

“Okay,” he said, bracing himself with a deep breath. “Okay.”

A small bell tinkled overhead when he pushed the door open and within an instant, a blonde head popped up from behind the desk at the front. The girl raised an eyebrow at the three of them and zeroed in on Cyrus.

“Cyrus Goodman?” She asked.

He nodded mutely.

“Awesome! Okay, I just need you to sign these forms for me before you can get started. Do you have your I.D on you?”

He pulled his driver’s license out from his pocket and handed it over, taking the clipboard of papers from her as she checked it over. After seeming to decide that he was not, in fact, lying about his age, she turned and bellowed towards the back of the studio.

“TJ! YOUR TEN THIRTY’S HERE!” She then turned back to him, smiling sweetly. “You can take a seat over there. He’ll just be a minute.”

Cyrus spent the next ten minutes sitting with Buffy and Andi on a small rustic bench, bouncing his leg restlessly and taking in the artwork that filled the walls. It was obvious that each wall was dedicated to a different artist, the styles all unique and eye-catching in their own way. There was a small collection of framed watercolour pieces above Andi’s head that had captured her interest and, across from them, several traditional pin-up pieces were displayed. The longer they sat the more tattoos Cyrus wanted, but the more terrified he got at the same time.

“What if this is a mistake?” He whispered to Buffy. His attempts at subtlety were lost, though. From where she was filing her nails at her desk, the blonde girl looked up and smirked. She was quite scary, actually.

“You’re overthinking it again,” Buffy hissed back.

He sighed. She was right. What he needed was a distraction. Maybe he should’ve brought his knitting with him. He still had a sleeve to go on the sweater he was making for Bex, after all.

Just as he was pondering how well knitting might have distracted him from the thought of permanently etching a piece of art onto his chest, a rather different distraction showed up.

“Cyrus Goodman?” Came a voice.

When he looked up, his jaw dropped. Standing there waiting was the prettiest guy Cyrus had ever seen. He looked like he’d walked straight off the cover of an alt-rock magazine. Tattoos covered his arms and neck and his hair was carefully shaved into a sharp undercut. He even had the gauges in his ears that Jonah was always saying he wished his mom would let him get. Beneath the fluorescent lighting, his green eyes seemed to glitter. Cyrus was aghast. 

“Catching flies there, Cy,” Andi murmured, and he snapped his mouth shut.

“I’m TJ,” Tall, Punk and Gorgeous said, offering Cyrus a hand. “You ready to go?”

*

When Cyrus had finally gotten himself together enough to greet TJ properly, he’d followed him to his section in the back.

“Are your friends coming?” TJ asked.

Buffy had interjected quickly enough with her, “It’s cool, we’ll wait here.” And Cyrus wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not. On the one hand, he didn’t need to embarrass himself in front of all three of them, but on the other… he kind of wanted someone there to tell him to stop being a weenie when the needle started up.

TJ smiled at him all the way through agreeing on the design he’d drawn up, Cyrus taking off his shirt and getting the near purple outline copied onto his chest. Cyrus thought he might vibrate out of his own skin.

“I’m glad you messaged me for this,” TJ said as he prepared the ink.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I really like doing flowers, especially when customers let me do the whole design. They always turn out exactly how I pictured them.”

Cyrus laughed nervously. “That’s good. I really like what you came up with - the gold detail on the petals was a nice touch.”

TJ grinned as he pulled out the gun.

“You ready?”

No.

“Sure,” Cyrus squeaked.

“Tell me if you want a break.”

The pain wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. After a moment he even found himself relaxing. For some reason, he’d assumed that it would be a silent encounter, but TJ chattered on as he worked. He asked about Cyrus’ degree, getting excited when he mentioned film and going on a tangent about Fight Club. For a brief moment, Cyrus was worried he was about to reveal himself to be one of those men who called other people ‘snowflakes’ unironically, then found himself surprised and delighted when TJ started talking about the inherent homoeroticism of Tyler Durden’s character. After a while, Cyrus found himself chatting back just as happily. He hadn’t expected the two of them to have so much to talk about.

“So, what does it mean?” Asked TJ, after finishing up a long-winded rant about the coffee he’d spilt all over Amber - his sister and the girl at the front desk apparently - earlier that week on one particularly bad morning.

“Huh?”

“'The sun sets on its own.’ Is that right? I ran the words through a translator, but the internet screws it up sometimes.”

Cyrus smiled, trying to glance down at the tattoo without moving too much. TJ had just started on the words.

“Almost,” he said. “It’s ‘the sun sets of itself’. It’s an old proverb from the Talmud. My Bubbe used to say it to it me a lot when I was worried about something. I think she meant it kind of like 'life goes on’, but I don’t know if that’s actually what it means though.”

TJ nodded, smiling back. “That’s pretty cool. Is that why you’re getting this, then? For your Bubbe?”

“Yeah, she died a few years ago but I figured it would be a nice way to honour her. She was really into art.”

“Sounds like a cool lady.”

“She was.”

When they finished up, Cyrus was surprised to find disappointment settling in. Not with the artwork, which looked just as wonderful as he had hoped, but with the fact he had to leave. TJ’s smile and warm manner seemed to be strangely addictive. He wanted to know everything about him.

“Think you’ll be coming back anytime soon?” TJ asked, leaning against the desk as Cyrus handed a wad of bills over to Amber.

“Definitely.”

“Thank God,” TJ said, looking genuinely relieved. “I was worried this would be my only chance to ask you out.”

Cyrus left the studio bright red, grinning and with TJ’s cell number programmed into his phone. Buffy and Andi could tease all they wanted, but getting a tattoo had definitely been a good idea.

[etiquetteandethics]

Our Life thoughts

I spent some time this weekend playing the visual novel game Our Life: Beginnings & Always. According to the official description, the game is “a feel-good simulation, as well as a ‘feel-better’ one, where painful emotions such as sadness, anger, stress, and worry can all be expressed, then met with reassurance, understanding, and support.”

Set in the fictional seaside town with the unlikely name of Sunset Bird, I would describe the game as assertively inclusive. The player can customize most aspects of their (mostly unseen) first-person protagonist, including name, pronouns, physical appearance, and dietary preferences, and can adjust these across stages of the character’s life. Interestingly, the player is prompted to designate whether the character was assigned male, female, or intersex at birth, but this choice does not occur until the second chapter, or “step,” of the game, during a moment of self-reflection. The main character is raised by two mothers, and along with a sister, is adopted. The player can decide whether to pursue knowledge of biological family or not. I myself am adopted, and so found this very relatable, and as in real, had no particular interest in discovering those details.

I am not yet finished exploring the various plot lines and divergences in the game, though I have been through the main substance now. And it is certainly a “feel-good simulation,” with emotional resonance and reward, and a wholesome and fleshed out sensibility. It has also made me—not quite sad, but—meditative and a bit melancholy.

I simply cannot help but wonder how different my life would have been if I had grown up with the world of possibility portrayed in Our Life.

I did not grow up in a regressive home by any means. As I said above, I was adopted very young, and raised in an upper-middle class home, on the banks of a river, by parents with moderate to progressive views. Their social circle was somewhat racially diverse and they had both gay and lesbian friends who would frequently come by the house. So this was normal life to me, and I was genuinely baffled later in life when I met religious conservatives who were not LGBT-affirming. Still, our social awareness of gender and identity were not what they are now. Nor even what they could have been then. I grew up post-Stonewall. We could have read more widely, thought more deeply. We fancied ourselves cosmopolitan, but embraced a rather bourgeois ethic.

“Would Mom be a terf if she were still alive?” was a question I found myself asking recently. And I suspect I know the answer.

My mother’s hair began thinning in her forties. She began wearing expensive, elaborate hair pieces and extensions, and confessed to me privately that she felt like a fraud anytime people complimented her hair in public. In college, I was dating a girl who shaved her head, and I cannot describe the level of derision and anger my mother expressed over the act. If my mother could not have something, it was incumbent on anyone who could to embrace it. My mother, the lifetime smoker and drinker, was also fiercely against tattoos and piercings, and I never dared to get a tattoo until after she had passed away. I never came out to my mother, in large part because I had never really processed my own identity or sexuality to the point of having anything to come out about while she was alive. None of this proves anything, of course. People continue to change, and not only in one direction, as they experience and process life. It is all an exercise in futility, asking, “Who would I be if I had not been adopted? Would my mother be a TERF if she were forming opinions today? Who would I be if I had grown up in Sunset Bird?” Still, I cannot help but ponder. And the emergence of a game like Our Life gives me hope that more people will have a wider world opened to them from childhood on.

[hearthandhomemagick]

Cottage Witch Journal Entry

I have a longing for Tennessee. 

I have a pure, unadulterated and wild attraction to the Tennessee Mountains. This is a dream I’ve had, and a yearning I’ve felt, for years. A need to be hidden deep in the mountains in a tiny cottage/cabin of sorts. I’m sure this is an affinity very popular in mainstream culture today, and all I can think of when I hear people say they want a cottage or cabin in the mountains is, “How the Hell does everyone expect to FIT on these mountains?!” But, this is my Shadow Self, the over realistic and overthinking side of myself. And I easily get discouraged from my own wants thinking of others wants. 

This is a side of me to notice in myself. I need to be able to move past thoughts of, “If everyone wants it, I’ll never have it.” and move forward with thoughts of, “This is something I want for myself, and I deserve to work hard for it.” And that’s a goal I have with myself. 

You see, this post isn’t just about my want to be in Tennessee in the woods, it’s much deeper than that I feel. It’s about improvement and wanting to grow. 

I bring up Tennessee because that is not a goal I can easily obtain within a couple of weeks or even a month. But, it is something I want to build up to obtaining. Something I want to do right so that everything is exactly as it needs to be. And I can’t fully accomplish this until I accomplish other goals that take precedent first. For Example, my physical health.

As a witch, I truly believe in loving every part of yourself, the good and the bad. The exciting and the terrifying. The understood and the neglected. Part of this acceptance process is learning what is and is not acceptable for my body. Now, I have struggled with my weight and how I see myself since I was a child. I remember a little boy seeing my tummy in a bathing suit in 1st grade and him telling me I was fat and that his dad said fat girls were ugly. Comments like this, stares and whispers were constant when in regards to my weight. It felt like an overwhelming amount of attention was directed at the way I looked, even if no one was looking at me I felt as though everyone was thinking about it. Over the years, this mental state took a tole on a lot more than I expected, even affecting me today with my Significant Other. The consistent attention to my own weight pulled me into depression, our of depression, into anxiety and out of anxiety. What I mean is I had an up and down relationship with my tummy. 

I felt abandoned most days. I would get this idea that I was too much and not enough all at once. A gentle and cooing tone from my toxic thoughts led to a lot of issues and concerns for me and my health. Some days, I would read something that made me feel as though I was a Queen. A bad bitch lurking in this cruel world and taking it by the throat to stare it in the eyes and say, “I love my body fat.” 

The sad part is your heart, mind and body know when you are lying to it. I didn’t love my body. Not in those confident moments and not in those depressed moments. I was locked away in a cage in my mind that gave me two illusions to choose from, while hiding my third option under the rug. I neglected my feelings because I didn’t want to experience them. I neglected my health because I didn’t want to deal with it. And I neglected my body because I hated it. 

Reality here is that this is the only fucking body I have. Do you understand that? Let me repeat this so maybe you can understand how harsh of a reality this was to me. 

I am on this Earth for goodness knows how long. 50 years, 20 years, 72 days. I don’t know, and no one does. I was literally forced into owning this body, whether I like it or not, it is mine. I can move houses, I can get a new car, I can get a new job. I cannot get a new body. 

I heard this in High School and started what I called my weight loss journey. I lost maybe 20 pounds while attending a workout-boot camp of sorts and trying to maintain a healthy diet. That sentence resonated so much with me that I repeated it every day to myself. My motivation was on point. Then, I stopped going. There are multiple reasons why I stopped, but none of them are rightful excuses.

I just stopped. 

Now, during those days I had lost weight, I was starting to gain confidence in myself and was attempting to genuinely look out for my health. I had more energy and felt amazing! But like I said, I had stopped for terrible reasons. 

Fast-forward to college and you will find a very anxiety filled, sleep deprived and mentally exhausted Carly. Some nights I wouldn’t sleep but for 4-5 hours. Other nights I didn’t sleep at all. I believe my stay up streak was 3, going on 4 nights. All due to homework. My coping technique has always been eating food, too. So when you have a sleep deprived student settled next to a 24/7 pizza joint with half baked cookies, you gain 30-40 pounds. 

At 245 Pounds, I was at my heaviest. This weight gain came on as my roommates were saying I was fat, stupid and were making me question myself frequently. Self hate festers among others who don’t value your worth, remember that. So, through those years of college I weighed an uncomfortable amount of weight that made my body start shutting down physically. 

Mental Health had a lot to do with my physical health, here as well. When I was in a really bad place, I would stop moving completely and just sit still. If I had a terrible feeling, I’d cook something to make myself feel better or would just grab a processed, quick snack. It was a pattern of mine. I’d get just enough motivation to do one or two things, and then I’d stop all together and feel as though that was enough for a few weeks. 

Eventually, when I was done with college, I started back on that rollercoaster of healthy and unhealthy. I’d lose 5 pounds, then gain 7 pounds right back. I started detail critiquing myself and stressing myself out. My weight never could get under control, and I couldn’t break the 200 mark to save my life. I would see pictures and videos of myself and feel as though I had eaten an entire buffet. Not too long after getting with my S/O and starting my job as a Sexual Violence Outreach Advocate, I got sick.

It started as a birthday dinner at a Korean Barbecue in 2019. I was with my two best friends at the time and having a blast. We all ate the same food, but when I woke up the following morning I was throwing up everything in my tummy. 

The throwing up went on for 4 days before I was taken to the hospital, only for them to release me saying it was virus. My personal doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong and it eventually became an everyday thing. I would wake up between 3-6 in the morning, go to the bathroom and be sick for hours before pulling myself together to make it to work. 

Weeks turned into months, and months turned into a year. 

I lost 50 pounds from this thing that no doctor could seem to figure out. I got x-rays and everything, but nothing and no one could tell me exactly what was going on with me. I couldn’t eat anything friend, only raw fruits and veggies, or broth. I only drank water and ginger based drinks, and could not for the life of me stop what was going on with my body. Many doctors tried to pass it as a virus, stomach ulcers, GURD, or even Heart Burn (?). None of them were right. 

After a long time, my mom finally confessed that every woman in our family has Endometriosis. If you don’t know what this is, it is the build up of scar tissue on the outside of your uterus. This leads to nausea, ovarian cysts (which they found on me in x-rays) and sub or infertility. No doctor can diagnose it, either, unless you have a surgery to see if there is scarring. So for many, suffering on your own is easier than seeing a doctor. 

I discussed this with my doctor, and it was as if a light flashed in her brain. This is a disease she cannot say I have, but can say it sounds very much like that. It is hereditary and once you have it, you have it for good.

After this information entered my line of though, I decided the stress from my job was too much for too little pay, and chose to leave. Leading up to my leaving the job, I was sick almost every second of every day. The moment I left, I felt better.

I still feel pain in my ovary area, but because I don’t have the money to see a doctor, and can control my pains with eating habits and physical influence, I choose to work through it alone. 

I said ALL THAT BACKGROUND BULLSHIT JUST TO SAY THIS!!!!!

This is the part that marks my new journey. It is the Journey to Strength and Well Being. The Journey to Feeling Good. The Journey the Choosing my happiness over anything else. And the Journey to choosing the health of my body over my insecurities.

I wrote this because a couple of days ago I had a very graphic and vivid dream about my boyfriend falling in love with the woman I wanted to be. In other words, I seen him with a woman who literally presented all of my insecurities to me. Small, lithe and dainty, gentle and calming, and everything I wasn’t. She was beautiful. And he seen this, and did things for her that he never did for me. I woke up almost in tears, because my emotions were raw, but I had no idea that my insecurities were still very deeply rooted. 

I pondered over the last few days of this dream. What it could mean, what I should do, how I should feel and I have finally come to a conclusion.

This dream is a depiction of my fears. My brain was saying, “You need to address this shit right now.” and did it in the most face slap kind of way I could think. 

I still, even after learning to love myself genuinely, have image issues that need to be nurtured and tended to before I can move forward in my life.

So, I’m making 1-3 goals every month that are attainable and reachable. This will be a brick road to my obtaining that cottage/cabin in the Tennessee Mountains. 

This months Goals start today! 

GOAL 1 -  Learn to do a split, find a healthy yoga sequence, be able to do 15 pushups, & 30 Squats by the end of December. 

GOAL 2 - Make a conscious effort to what you eat/making a new dish once a week to try.

GOAL 3 - Save $100.

This is a process, and I am only human. I don’t want to fall back into the habits of toxic mentality. I don’t want to neglect myself or how I feel and I don’t want to lose myself in to the world in the process of searching for freedom from myself. 

I expect myself to exude self control, self love, and empowerment. I expect to expect better from and for myself, and I expect to accomplish my goals.

I manifest it here, I can do a split. I have a healthy maintainable yoga sequence that I have committed to growing expanding and changing. I can do 15 push ups and 30 squats. I have 100 dollars saved up already and make concious decisions that better my health rather than hurt it. This is part of my lifstyle now! 

And it is for the better!

Thank you to anyone who read this through. These entries are more for my benefit and thought process, but appreciate anyone who recognizes it or even relates and wants to talk about it. It’s personal to me and means a lot. I intend on being on here more often to update my challenges and express how I use my witchcraft in the process of this Journey.

I love you all! Stay safe, warm and full to the brim! Later Witches! xx

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 70: The Triwizard Tournament

Papers of varying importance went flying into the air, desks were knocked clean off their feet right along with them, and chairs and ink bottles pelted them all as the eight of them crash landed once more. At least none of the furniture came to life to attack them this time though.

"Alice!" Frank gasped at once, rushing madly to her side.

She assured him she was fine, a bit sore but fine, as she in turn thanked him profusely for the rescue. Lily and the Marauders were all getting to their feet as well in varying degrees of stiff pain before Frank remembered to look around more critically for the last of their group, and then cursing once more uneasily as he didn't automatically spot him.

They were in a very large, open office space, with world maps encircling all around them. Even a cursory look at one had it zooming in to Great Britain before he looked away dismissively and it returned back to normal. Doors lead off in an abundance of directions, several left casually open. The Marauders were already poking their heads inside curiously, Sirius calling out for his younger brother loud enough that anybody probably could have heard through several walls regardless.

Alice had his hand in a white knuckled grip, the question all but etched into her forehead even as she met his eyes without accusation. It was more than he deserved, if the lad really wasn't here then-

"I found him!" Lupin called from all the way back near the lifts. They all hurried over to find him splayed out uncomfortably, still flushed red in the face, but breathing alright as far as they could tell.

Sirius didn't seem ready to take anyone else's word for it as he tapped him repeatedly on the face. "Reggie? Come on you little shit, if you die on me I'm not explaining it to our parents."

He groaned, his eyelids fluttered for a moment, but while his face was returning to normal color he still remained lax. Sirius grabbed his shoulders and set him upright against his own shoulder while scowling at Frank.

"Poor kid," Lily said in sympathy. "I'm sure he'll be alright though." She hadn't really forgiven him yet for when he'd laughed at that foul word being used, but seeing how small he looked now was easing her up just a bit, as she reminded herself how impressionable people could be.

Potter cleared his throat and offered an awkward change of subject. "So, this is the Department Crouch runs eh? Looks a dump."

Peter couldn't stop a snort of surprise at the mess that they'd created. James gave him the most awkward smile imaginable, causing Peter to blush and wander off elsewhere. Baby steps.

Sirius watched him go with a scowl in place, before he looked at Prongs who was now watching his trainers intently. Then, softly from his arms he heard a muttered, "Five more minutes," and looked down in time to see his brother trying to burrow further into his arms, before his dark eyes fluttered open and he saw how close their faces were.

Regulus' immediately scrunched up in displeasure, and he said in no uncertain terms, "Let, go."

Sirius did. The brat fell to the floor and groaned as Sirius stormed off in any other direction that did not have a person in sight muttering about arseholes, his nose was probably still smarting.

"Well, now that that's all settled, I'm just going to," Potter waved his hand in the air once more, forever acting as if this was a casual day of studies and leisure. Then with a quick spell, the book was in his hand and he was perching himself on the nearest desk and flipping for his spot.

Alice gave the book a rather miffed look, it couldn't have bloody done that for her when she needed it? Lily went over to the nearest map and began inspecting it curiously, intrigued at once as she found it zooming in to show a nice wooded area, the same in fact as the one near her home. Curious, she then visualized in her mind downtown London, and was greeted with a deserted view of there as well.

Frank slumped to the ground where Regulus had been, peeling off a paper from his shoe that had a long list of names on it for some reason, rather French ones he decided as a few leaped out at him.

All of them stopped what they were doing when Potter cleared his throat uneasily and read the chapter title.

"The Triwizard Tournament?" Lupin had stayed by Potter's side and was now looking over his shoulder as if checking his pronunciation. "I've read about that, was banned ages ago though."

"Why?" Alice asked in surprise as she stayed restlessly on her feet, but enjoying the feeling of being able to do so much too much to get more comfortable. "Sounds like what, a game between schools? Too many sore losers?"

"Too many deaths," Lily corrected without looking up from the map, which was hovering over Australia now for some reason. "Thing was a nightmare from what I've read about it."

"And now it's back, and around Harry," Potter gave an exaggerated sigh. "Why am I not surprised?"

He looked eagerly at her to see a return, but she didn't even acknowledge him, causing him to pout and dive into the story.

It started off with a charming reminder of how horrid the weather was as they were arriving at school, and Peeves causing further misfortune to no one's surprise but at least James Potter's mirth.

He laughed boisterously at Peeves' old tricks for several moments, before he realized none of his friends had joined in. Sirius Black was in one of the offices, demolishing it by the sounds of it, and Peter Pettigrew was now sitting awkwardly at the edge of the room and spinning the chair about, as if he couldn't decide if he wanted to be seen or not. Remus Lupin was still beside him, but with such a distant gaze on his face it was a wonder if he was taking in a word.

The four must have had some sort of confrontation back on the campgrounds, and Alice winced and shuffled even more uncomfortably in place at the idea of how long this could last. Their other fight had ended in blows, and though time was nonlinear in their circumstances, it couldn't have been more than hours for that to happen always confined around each other. Previously though she knew from the social circles of the school three of them had avoided one of their own for a month just before they'd all fallen into this mess. The details of that fight non were privy to either, nor was she sure she wanted to know at this point.

It's not as if she had stakes in their fight, and things hadn't exactly been more pleasant during the first two books when they'd been getting along at their most civil. Yet she still felt the urge to do, something. Of the five minute conversation she'd had with Remus Lupin, he'd certainly been pleasant enough, though she still couldn't help but wince at the horrid image of a monstrous creature lunging for her throat when she wasn't looking at him, though seeing him now fidgeting with the sleeve of his robes deep in thought, he looked like a perfectly normal teen.

She hadn't even spoken to the others one on one, but maybe she could? Perhaps what they needed was a mediator?

Amidst her pondering thoughts, James Potter had read all through the waiting around, the Sorting Hat's song, the actual sorting, the majority of dinner, and Hermione's little tiff over house elves being there. He'd just gotten through the majority of Dumbledore's speech when he stopped, and in doing so gained everyone's attention.

Whether for dramatic effect or he'd been genuinely surprised, it was always hard to tell with him, he then described the new DADA teacher for the year, Mad-Eye Moody.

"Fits, doesn't it?" Lily sighed, finally looking away from the map which zoomed out of an apothecary shop in Northern Ireland back to normal. "Harry always seems to hear of his teachers before they wind up there."

"I wish we were less acquainted with him," Remus Lupin grumbled, stretching his neck for emphasis.

The description was honestly frightening, the kind of man you'd meet and wonder how he was still alive. Frankly, if she'd lived through his battle hardened state, she may be just as paranoid as him in booby-trapping every inch of her home.

His arrival was thankfully not lingered upon though, even if James Potter said his introduction with a rather sour expression she couldn't blame what with the bruises she was sure to have added from his home, before they were all reminded the Triwizard Tournament was going to be an event at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore didn't exactly explain much they hadn't worked out on their own, so she decided to at least give her plan a try before they were thrown into their next perilous situation. She'd have liked to start with James Potter, as their ringleader she was sure his opinion mattered the most, but she could hardly pull him aside as he all but egged on the twins' plan to join this tournament. Instead, she hesitated between the other two.

Mostly, she felt for both parties. Sirius Black had been dealt a very harsh blow to his life in a few short words, what with hearing a best friend of his would cause so many problems, yet it didn't sit right with her he was blaming this on his friend who'd never strayed from his side during all the accusations being pinned against him.

Peter Pettigrew wasn't one she could sympathize with entirely though, his friends knew him best and if they couldn't see past such a horrible betrayal then what if he was really capable of it? He seemed remorseful of it now though, and her heart ached at the idea of a choice, even if he inevitably made the wrong one, being taken from him.

So she avoided the bangs coming from an office that had done nothing to deserve it, like everyone else was, and made her way over to his little corner with the most polite and open expression she could, soured somewhat by a glare back at the book for Neville sharing his feelings about the tournament. His grandmother, her possible future mother in law, never missed a chance to make her possible kid feel unworthy, did she?

"Sorry," Peter Pettigrew apologized, stopping his spinning abruptly. "I, ah, hadn't realized I was bothering anyone-" without quite meeting her eyes.

"Oh no," she said quickly, straightening her expression back out. "I, um, came to see how you were doing."

It was hard to imagine him as a fat, lazy rat who did nothing but sleep and betray others as she looked into his youthful face now full of bewilderment, the images as divided from each other as Remus Lupin when he'd been a werewolf.

"Oh," was all he said lamely for several moments, before looking side-eyed at where Regulus Black was holding his head steady and taking calming breaths. He was probably still feeling a bit dizzy from his spell. "Erm, alright, I guess. The dust, never did anything to me. It was weird not being able to change, though. I, didn't like that," he finished quietly. "Made me think there for a second I'd be stuck as a-"

He stopped abruptly and swallowed before resuming his spinning. Regulus Black looked up and in their direction, but then went cross-eyed at the chair's movements and closed his eyes as if in pain.

She sighed as she realized this was probably Peter's intention, he clearly didn't want an audience. "Alright then," she smiled wide enough she was sure he'd see it despite his restlessness. "Just doing the rounds, making sure and all."

"Right," he muttered noncommittally as James Potter wound down the chapter with the lot of new fourth years climbing into bed. He warned them the chapter was about to end, and sighed without any enthusiasm at what was next.

[sinwcrthyarchive]

➤ Talk Dirty | Accepting

↳ @out-of-bitters​ asked: 💞: "So yer tellin' me...ya really never boinked uglies with someone?" Perhaps not the most suave way to word it. It wasn't asked with ill intent, nor to rock any metaphorical boats, merely genuine curiosity on Char's part. Perhaps an idiotic curiosity, but a curiosity none the less.

As a man who had been hypersexual once upon a time, he found it incredibly hard to believe his friend really hadn't tried casual sex, even once, throughout his life. Whether with a friend, or with a stranger. To Char, those situations weren't odd. But if Arrow expressed it to be true that he was different in such a fashion to Char, he would accept it as truth. And he would be lying if he didn't admit he might have found himself to be a tad jealous, even.

Char had heard of those that would only save themselves for a special someone. In the past, he might have scoffed at them, might have told them to have fun while they could, considering just how fleeting life could be. Once upon a time, he had been a man to drown himself in any and every vice available to him.

And now he could see just how much of his life he had wasted on it. With those that didn't care for him truly, with those that would stab him in the back the moment he happened to turn it to them. People he had once thought he trusted. How he had wasted a majority of his life drowning in drugs and booze, just waiting for the next fix to lift him up from the dumps of the first.

But again, everyone led clearly different lives. And ultimately, they chose to live as they pleased. One way or the other, he wouldn't see Arrow any different, and he hoped his expression showed as much, a look of encouragement given, but also a look of reserve. A silent offer to step back if he had happened to cross a boundary somewhere. He wasn't blind to the fact that these conversations tended to make his friend uncomfortable at times.

"I'm merely curious. Ya don't have ta answer, especially if it's somethin' ya'd rather not chat about."

                                                                   ————

     {➹} – WAS THERE SOMETHING about the late hours that brought out a different side of people? Even as he thought about it upon hearing his friend’s question, Arrow knew it was the truth. How often, after all, had he spent night after night in club after club? How often had he seen people turn into something utterly different by the time the night was over? Sometimes for the better, more times not. Sometimes thanks to too many drinks, others thanks to an intimate conversation with the right, or wrong, person.

     He should have known, because he had been one of those people not so many years ago. Maybe it was why this latest question, asked by a dear friend in the throes of a sleepless night didn’t phase him as much as it should have. Arrow had come to enjoy their late night talks, after all. Even when they delved into this territory. Even if he never understood what brought on the change of topic or the curiosity. In this case, however, the answer was simple. 

    “I never said that.”

    It was true the hero didn’t want to get into the details, not just for his sake but the other person involved in the night in question, but he knew that he had only poked Char’s wonder, so to speak. He didn’t want his friend to ponder, to perhaps get the wrong idea, and saw nothing wrong with giving a little more insight. Though Arrow knew, no matter how he spun it, a one night stand was still just that. A fleeting thing. 

     “It was only one time, an’ I...regret it, or at least the way we went about it, I guess, but...” he trailed off, thinking of how to best put the situation without giving too much away. Without touching upon a road he didn’t want to go down that night, or ever if he had the choice. There were some things Char was better off not knowing when it came to the hero. 

     In the end, Arrow could only look away, both embarrassed and unsure. “It’s going t’ sound stupid but it was...something we both needed, and not in the way you’d think. We were both in a similar place and we saw each other as an escape. That’s all there was t’ it, really.”

     He chose to leave out the fact that he and said person were now not only friends, but teammates. Again, some things were best left in the dark.