#when it’s really just. part of who she is. a gift.

[florencemtrash]

Club Rats and Cigarettes: Part II

Azriel x Modern Reader

Summary: When Azriel stumbles into a new world with his brothers, the last thing he expects to find is a mate. But she has a hell of a way of making a first impression, and Azriel can't help but fall in love with someone who feels familiar in a strange world.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of drug use

Masterlist of Masterlists

Author's note: Y'all... I'm just trying to get back into writing after disappearing off the face of the earth... so here's part II! Y/n's cat is about to play a huge role in all of this

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Y/n had gone to bed hoping she’d been drugged at the club (that was the first and only time she would ever think such a thing). That alone might explain how she’d been persuaded to bring three grown men home, decorated with enough weapons to arm a small battalion. But perhaps it had all been some acid-laced dream and she would step outside her bedroom to the sight of an empty living room and a very disgruntled Jefferson at her heels. 

But alas, she had gone to bed sober, and woke up to two Illyrians passed out on the floor and one Shadowsinger thumbing through her bookshelf.

“What is this?” Cassian squatted in front of the microwave, nose pressed up against glass as his breakfast spun in lazy circles. Steam shot out from beneath saran wrap and he watched mesmerized as tingles of electricity sang through the air and set the hair on his neck alight. He could taste the energy on his tongue, along with leftover chicken tikka masala from the one Indian restaurant fifteen minutes away. 

Y/n shot him an odd glance from the kitchen table, pouring herself a cup of coffee with a sigh. It was becoming easier and easier to believe that they were from another world as they fawned over her kitchen appliances, beaten and used as they were. Just this morning, Rhys had taken an hour-long shower, content to stand beneath the assault of boiling hot water until his skin was red and spotted from heat. “I need this in the River House,” he’d declared with an air that spoke of royalty, standing in the hallway with nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist. Y/n’s face had burned brighter than the sun and Azriel had growled so low Jefferson scowled and scampered away.

“It’s a microwave,” Y/n explained, rubbing at her temples.  

“What does it do?” Cassian opened the small door and hissed when the dish burned his fingertips. A common mistake — though he wouldn’t know that. 

“Heats up food. Pops popcorn. Blows up if you put metal in it.” 

Azriel grabbed his brother’s wrist before he could get any ideas about tossing a spoon into the microwave. “That was not an invitation to try,” Azriel hissed in warning. He was embarrassed enough about his conduct the night before. The last thing he needed was for one of his brothers to blow up his mate’s home. 

Cassian hummed in curiosity, shoving a spoonful of leftover takeout into his mouth and groaning at the taste. He sank into a plastic IKEA chair beside Y/n with a strangled sound of contentment. Nothing in Prythian tasted like this, and unlike the Human Lands, the food here had flavor to it, albeit of an artificial variety. 

Azriel was quick to fill up his plate. He didn’t want Y/n to stand up and offer him anything. Gods, he’d have a heart attack if she offered him so much as a teaspoon of sugar. He even managed to heat it up all by himself, fumbling with the buttons before finally setting the timer for 2 minutes, as she continued to eye him warily over her cup. 

He’d given her a sheath to accompany the knife he’d gifted her and she wore it now slung across her hip. It did not suit the sweatpants and old college t-shirt she wore, but she couldn’t deny she felt better with it close by. Soon he’d have to teach her how to use it properly. 

“If you really want to conduct that experiment, I could probably find a half-usable microwave down at the landfill for you to blow up.” 

Cassian’s eyes lit up with eagerness and Azriel scowled at him once more. Rhysand stalked into the kitchen, hair still dripping onto last night’s clothes. Violet eyes recklessly appraised her house, but if he was judging her 70s floral wallpaper dull with discoloration and time, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. With a lazy flick of his wrists the stovetop burners lit up with a click and a flare of fire. First he applied his magic too strongly and the hiss of gas tinged the air. But after a strong-worded reprimand from Azriel, he tempered his control over the new, unfamiliar magic. 

Rhysand touched the flame without fear, capturing a flicker in his palms before letting it fizzle out. It was a strange magic the humans used. It touched everything without them even realizing that’s what it was. Y/n had used it to start her car the night before, and had used it this morning to brew her coffee and answer the flurry of messages that appeared on the little black box she carried everywhere. Rhysand couldn’t help but reflect on the strange world they’d arrived in once again. 

Azriel ate standing and Y/n sensed he was not one for relaxation. Constantly vigilant, the twisting of his shadows betrayed what his rock-still body did not. He was searching with his golden eyes, and Y/n found he was the one her eyes stuck to like a mouse on a glue trap. 

His nails were cut short and clean, but his hands were cracked, dry, and horribly scarred — his one and only glaring imperfection. He leaned casually against the wall, content to hide in the shadows of the fridge, but his jaw was clenched. He seemed like he was doing everything he could not to meet her gaze, but everytime she moved, his eyes followed her. Hands twitching by his side or against his breakfast plate as she twisted in her seat or poured another cup. 

“So,” she began carefully. The pouring of coffee splintered throughout the room. “What the fuck am I meant to do with you now?”

Rhysand chuckled, as if he too recognized the absurdity of the situation as he took the remaining chair at the table beside Jefferson and Cassian. Two Illyrians, a half-breed, a human, and her hideous feline companion. If only Feyre could see them now… 

The fat cat hissed, maw split open in a dark scowl. He leapt off his seat cushion, settling precariously in Y/n’s lap as he eyed his three victims. Just one taste. He reminded himself. And I will know their devices. It was the gift that had been bestowed upon him by Master. 

Normally, Jefferson the Cat would find an hour or two to disappear into the night and answer to Them, but the arrival of such dangerous guests had stolen that opportunity from him. He longed to slink into the darkness, to chase after the tendrils of power that lingered in the woods and to reveal all that he knew, for he was a good spy. But he was a better protector and could not bear to leave his Y/n in such horrific company. 

The three brothers looked at one another cautiously and Jefferson could only reflect on how they were so similar in their colorings, yet so different. 

“We don’t… we don’t have a plan.” Cassian admitted, finally giving his spoon a rest and rubbing the back of his neck. “We were hoping you might think of something.”

“Me?” 

“Elain told us there would be a Maker of some kind waiting here for us. Someone who could expect our arrival and arm us with what we need to defeat Koschei.”

Y/n scoffed. “That’s so fucking vague.” 

Rhysand smirked. “When considering interdimensional travel, what more could you expect?”

“So what’s stopping you from using your magic to find the Maker.” She wiggled her fingers in the air and Rhysand tried not to be offended. “Surely a High Lord or whatever you are is powerful enough to find him.” 

Rhysand’s expression soured. “The magic of this world is different from ours in a way that’s… interfering with our usual abilities.”

“Like?”

“Like how I can’t read your mind.” 

Y/n immediately reared back from Rhysand’s violet gaze, finding a patch of silver fur on Jefferson’s coat to distract herself with. “Well excuse me for finding that a relief.” Jefferson hummed in agreement, pushing his head into her open palm. “So your magic’s on the fritz and you’re stuck in an unfamiliar world with nothing but the name of “the Maker” to guide you home.”

“Do you know anything about him?” Rhysand leaned forward expectantly. 

Y/n remained unsmiling. “No. Sorry to disappoint. The uh… Maker is not someone I know personally.” 

He combed through his hair and somehow the strands fell perfectly back into place. It was annoying how handsome he was, like he belonged on the cover of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue. Y/n blinked, suddenly glad that he couldn’t hear her thoughts. He seemed like the kind whose arrogance would scarf up a comment like that. 

“Anyone else you could direct us to? Lords, Ladies, Kings, and Queens, or—”

“Life doesn’t work that way here. We’ve all but done away with royalty.” 

“Then someone else. Whoever governs this place.” 

Y/n snorted. She gathered Jefferson in her arms and disappeared to her bedroom, reemerging with a slender tablet in her hands that she opened like a book. The screen glowed ominously before transforming into a host of words jumbled together. Azriel got a glimpse of the word “Google” before she was slamming her fingers on the keys faster than he could register. 

She showed them the man who governed this place — America, she called it — and all three frowned deeply. 

“I see.” Rhysand grumbled. 

Their disappointment did not go away when she showed them Congress. It got worse when she actually got around to explaining everything. 

“No gods?” Azriel asked. He leaned over her shoulder, one arm planted on the table so she could have turned around and kissed his stretched neck if she wanted to. 

“I mean… yes and no? We have gods, but it’s not exactly like we can speed dial them.” 

“What does—” He shook his head, “Nevermind.” 

Jefferson flicked his tail. Master was a god. Is a god. He put all his weight on his front paw, sinking it deep into Y/n’s stomach until she was grimacing in pain and lifting him into her arms. 

Jefferson eyed the curve of Azriel’s neck, claws inching forward out of his velvety paw when the doorbell rang. Then rang again.

Y/n swore, shuffling the Illyrians into the kitchen and out of sight of the front door before opening the peep hole.

Azriel snuck up behind her quiet as night, and slid a knife into her palm. “Just in case,” he murmured.

She startled at the heavy weight of the blade and looked at him incredulously, fighting to suppress a smile. “I’m not about to murder a Mormon. Now hide.” 

What’s a Mormon? Cassian mouthed. He held a broadsword in a loose grip, bouncing on his feet as he prepared for what may come. An uninvited guest was a threat, and Cassian was all too familiar with the kinds of dangers that liked to visit the homes of young women.

Azriel shrugged, joining his brothers around the corner and out of sight. 

“Hello!” A cheery, male voice called from just out of sight. Azriel couldn’t help but seethe. His hands twitched around the handle of his knife as the soapy, clean smell of the stranger invaded Y/n’s home. 

A thin, lanky frame stood straight as a needle in the doorway, crisp clean shirt and black tie decorating an otherwise bland and pale figure. Sandy blonde hair was brushed back from a freckled brow and framed a long face with a brilliantly white and straight smile. Azriel had never seen a human with teeth so uniform. 

“How are you doing today?” The male touched his hand to his chest, clutching a leather-bound book in the other, “I’m Brother—” 

“Hey,” Y/n dropped her voice low and sweet, “I have company over and can’t listen right now. Come again later?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I—” 

“Yes, yes, apology accepted.” She could hear the fake politeness in her own voice — plastic and lifeless. But she had more pressing concerns at the moment.  

She gently ushered the man down the walkway, watching carefully as he made his way down the street to the neighbor’s place before shutting the door with a definitive thud and declaring, “I need another coffee.” 

Azriel sprang forward, “Allow me.” There was an extra touch of eagerness to his voice. He snagged the empty coffee cup from the table before she could protest and poured her a cup adding in sugar and cream exactly to her liking. He even stirred his spoon the way she liked — three times counter clockwise, once clockwise, before tapping the lip of the mug twice. He’d been paying careful attention to her all morning, and it paid off when she took her first sip and realized, with shock, that it was perfect. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, closing her eyes and sighing. 

He tipped his head forward in the ghost of a bow, eyes catching on the swish of tail and acid-yellow silts narrowing in contempt at him as Jefferson wrapped around Y/n’s legs. Then the cat pounced. 

Jefferson leapt into Azriel’s arms with a howl, swiping at the Illyrian’s face and neck with vengeance. There was a flash of claws and a thin line of blood appeared on Azriel’s cheek. 

“JEFFERSON!” Y/n shouted. Azriel calmly held onto the cat’s thick torso, holding out the spitting creature at arms length as it writhed and screamed. “I’m so, so sorry.” Apologies continued to spill from your mouth as you hauled Jefferson away. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

The cat only hissed with his eyes locked firmly on the Shadowsinger. 

Azriel swore there was satisfaction in the cat’s gaze as Jefferson brought one paw up to his mouth and licked the drop of blood from his claws. 

Immediately the cat’s slitted eyes blew open until they were nearly black. 

Oh… Master would not like this. Beyond the Master, he did not like this. 

The cat began to whine, clawing at Y/n’s clothes like he was convinced she would abandon him. You cannot have her, Shadowsinger! He thought with venom. You cannot take her away! He meowed desperately, crawling into Y/n’s shirt through the neck hole. 

Rhysand cocked his head to the side, reaching out with his magic at the cat that was acting very un-cat-like. There was something there, some magic, clinging to the creature like a piece of armor. Rhysand could feel it wrapping around the beast, coiling and uncoiling and burning with light. Breathing.

“Y/n?” The High Lord asked carefully. The young woman was too busy soothing the beast to hear him the first time around. “Y/n.”  

“What?” 

“Where did you get that cat?” 

“Really, Rhys? That’s what you’re focused on right now?” Cassian scoffed, crossing his arms.

 “Please answer the question, darling.” 

Azriel and Y/n both frowned at the use of that pet name. 

“I got him the way most people get cats.” She shrugged, “I found him in the backyard.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I found him a week after my previous cat died. Jefferson was scratching at the window frame for hours until I finally woke up and let him inside. He’s been with me ever since.”  

“Interesting.” Rhysand poked at where Jefferson bulged under her shirt. If he didn’t know any better he would say Jefferson was protecting Y/n with his body, covering her heart with his own. “Could I see the cat please?” 

Reluctantly, Jefferson let Y/n pull him out of her shirt and present him to the High Lord of the Night Court. Rhysand held him loosely in the crook of his arm and pulled out a knife, pricking the tip of his pointer finger before presenting it to the cat. 

“No claws necessary.” He said as the cat took a tentative lick, then bit down for good measure. 

Y/n watched all of this with a mixture of fascination and detached horror as Cassian did the same. Jefferson licked his lips, regarding them with less suspicion and more disdain. He would need to go see Master. Now. He was in desperate need of revelation if he was to care for Y/n. But this time, he could rest easier knowing Y/n was in good hands. Although he only possessed the brain of a feline, incapable of grasping the enormity of a mating bond, he knew that so long as Y/n was with the Shadowsinger, she would be safe. At the very least she would not be the first to die. 

Jefferson jumped down Cassian’s arms with a firm kick to the warrior’s chest, slunk towards the front door and with startling dexterity, unlocked, then opened the door all on his own. 

“Jefferson…” 

The cat turned, tail high in the air like an antennae and meowed his goodbyes, blinking slowly at his charge. 

Fear not. He purred, although he knew Y/n was not so enlightened as to understand him. I will not leave you to these plebeians for long. 

He took off for the woods, his form warping and changing as he went. He seemed to grow, then shrink. His fur turning black, then gold, then back to silver. But before Y/n could fully comprehend what she was happening to her fucking cat, he melted into a beam of sunlight and flickered out of existence. 

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[rafesbuzzcutseason]

wicked game

chapter 1 - welcome to kildare college

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

here it was. the day you had been counting down too for the last 6 months.

you took a deep breath, and entered the room the resident assistant had told you was yours.

the room was already half-decorated. fairy lights strung along one side, polaroids pinned to a cork board, and an expensive looking tote bag tossed on the bed.

before you could even process it all, a blonde girl spun around from where she was unpacking, eyes lighting up. “oh my god! you must be y/n!”

before you could do more than nod, the girl was pulling you into a tight hug.

“i’m sarah cameron, your official roommate and new best friend” she said, grinning.

you laughed, already liking her energy. “nice to meet you sarah. i'm y/n."

“so, tell me everything. where are you from? do you have a boyfriend? what are you studying?" she asked.

you shook your head but smiled. “well, i'm from south carolina, i do have a boyfriend, and i'm studying education as i want to work with kids!"

sarah gasped dramatically. “a boyfriend? oooh, tell me everything. long distance? is he at KC? is he hot?”

you laughed, shaking your head. “yes, no, and… yes."

sarah smiled. “that's cute. and studying to be a teacher? even cuter. you're a little ray of sunshine."

"i get told that a lot." you smiled back.

she leaned forward, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “okay, real talk. how do you feel about frat parties?”

you hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “uh, i mean… i’ve never really been to one.”

sarah’s jaw dropped. “never?”

you shrugged. “not really my scene, i guess.”

sarah gasped like you had just confessed to a crime. “okay, nope, we have to fix that. there’s a huge party at kappa tau tonight. it’s basically a ‘welcome back to chaos’ event. you have to come with me.”

you hesitated, nerves starting. “i don’t know-”

sarah gave you a squeeze. “come on, y/n. you don’t have to love it, but you can’t start the semester without at least going to one.” she nudged you playfully. “i promise i’ll be your personal bodyguard if the frat guys get annoying. plus i have a few friends who came here as well who you'll love.”

you sighed, already knowing you were probably going to cave. “fine. but if it’s terrible, you owe me coffee in the morning.”

sarah grinned. “deal.”

before you could respond, a loud ding! came from her phone. she glanced at the screen and groaned.

“what?” you asked.

“ugh. my brother,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “he’s already texting me about the party.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you have a brother here?”

sarah sighed dramatically, falling back onto the bed. “unfortunately.”she continued. “year above. he’s a frat guy, the frat guy. throws wild parties, and thinks he’s god’s gift to campus.” she shot you a look. “so, if he or any of his little minions try to charm you tonight, run.”

you laughed. “duly noted.”

"good. he's a pain in the ass."

a/n: first and foremost, my baby @darlingstarkey deserves every ounce of credit here possible. she is my own ray of sunshine and i can't thank her enough for how much she helps me and lets me throw all my ideas at her. i love you my cherub

secondly, first chapter AHHH scary. hope u guys are ready for this one <3

🏷️: @heartzshiftamy @hoefordrewstarkey @luvrclub @yesterdaysproblemm @leleee3 @yktayy9669 @miumiuestmoi @anacamofficial @cokewithcameron @bloodofadoll @shorttandsweett @mysticbby2009 @emmiesummers @wintercrows @drewrry @starkeyxcameron @xxbirkindoll2 @stoned-writer @drewstarkeyslover @hannieskzzz @verycherryblossomhideout @letstryagaintomorrow @jjsbbg7 @mariamadison6-blog @laniirackssss @xeneasworld @countryclubwhore @drewsphswife @mattyskies @moonywhisp3rs @starkeygirls @lmaolmaos @thereallifebambi @emeloyy @vcnillafairy @rafecameronswhoore @st8rkey @angeldiaryy @therealfairybatman 

[gourmand-cookie]

could i get a platonic shadow milk cookie with kid y/n? just like including one of his stage plays, dressing reader up n such, id think that would be a little cute

cant wait to see where youd take this 🐊

Funny friends that make you laugh

title taken from Glass Animals - Youth! hoo boy, im tuckered out so if there's any typos that's why, also, Y/N's fit is a mix of the MyCookie Sweet Lies and Deceptive Whispers set :3

You were Shadow Milk Cookie's little white lie.

Dressed in milky pale robes and boots, the only splash of blue being that of your hat and broach that was a smaller replica of the older cookie's soul jam, armed with a lance that was just the same size as you.

Cute as a button, you fit the part well.

Tags: Child!Reader, Shadow Milk Cookie & Reader, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Accidental Kid Acquisition, Platonic Relationships, Canon Divergent, Silly, Hurt/Comfort, Taking Creative Liberties, Mentioned Black Sapphire Cookie, Mentioned Candy Apple Cookie, Complicated Relationships, Shadow Milk Cookie and his innocently evil godchild friend

Your origins were never really known. One day, you just popped up in the Spire of Deceit and you had been there ever since.

In all technicalities, you were Shadow Milk's first minion, if you could even count as one.

He didn't know what to do with you back then, fresh off of corruption, high off of tapping into the darkened magic of the moon.

Oh but you were a lovely audience member who oo'ed and ahh'ed at everything he'd done, clapping happily at the sight of cookies dancing to his tune, so he let you stay.

You were Shadow Milk Cookie's little white lie.

Dressed in milky pale robes and boots, the only splash of blue being that of your hat and broach that was a smaller replica of the older cookie's soul jam, armed with a lance that was just the same size as you.

Cute as a button, you fit the part well.

So his disappearance left you wondering what role you had to play.

You didn't grow like Black Sapphire, nor were you prone to chaos like Candy Apple, the other two disciples that were left with you, running out the spire to do whatever task their master had left them to do.

At least you had the other residents to keep you company, the painters loved your paintings, the weavers wrapped you up in soft unseen sheets and the show never ended, not knowing the reason why.

Unbeknownst to you, it was a given. You were their ringleader after all.

Almost immortal, not that any would dare to see if it was a lie or not, they lived in the belly of the beast that shifts and purrs at the whims of the young cookie.

Even Candy Apple Cookie would blanch at the thought of raining her hammer down on you, why would she? You were one of the only ones who enjoyed her efforts.

Least of all, Black Sapphire Cookie, don't you know? His microphone was a gift to his master, attuned to his being and it's eyes were always watching you with a protective gaze.

You were more than what you thought you were.

It became more apparent when you woke up one night to twist the Spire here and there, you rarely change the labyrinth yourself and the residents noticed the new behavior, rumors abound already.

"Do my eyes deceive me, folks?" Black Sapphire Cookie announced to us, smile lax as always but his eyes shined with anticipation, "It looks to me as if we're preparing for guests."

"We are." You stated simply, focused on your task in raising the highest tower you could coax out of this place.

"Is Master Shadow Milk Cookie coming home?!" Candy Apple sprung up to your side, voice crackling just as she fell into excited squeals when this time, you nodded eagerly.

(And when the Beast settled into the Spire, he was welcomed first and foremost by a spectacle lead by you.

He couldn't be more proud.)

A hand ruffled into your icing messily, the familiar laughter was no longer a hollow echo through the halls but a tangible thing that rung in your ears.

"Look at you! Dough still as soft as ever, little one. Did you miss little ol me~?" The teasing made you pout but you would rather have it than nothing at all.

"Your shows are better. Are we gonna do a play?" Shadow Milk laughed, delightfully mischievous as he floated circles around you, tapping your nose.

"But of course! We've got new actors coming along. I'm calling this The Liar, The Thief and The Tower! Marvelous tower by the way, you've set the stage nicely, my deceitling! That's going to be center stage."

You beamed as the blue cookie picked you up into a twirl, giggling with the cackling master, the Spire shaking with his laughter.

(And when the Thief fell from the very tower you made, you cheered and clapped at the sight of a new friend to play with.)

Yes, Black Sapphire breaking the fourth wall is real and fun, I love him.

Also the thought of Reader being the one who made the tower Pure Vanilla fell from was too funny for me, I had to add it in.

[maleyanderecafe]

My Charming Neighbor Has A Secret (Webcomic)

Created by: RoShimafuku / NatsukoUmezawa

Genre: Romance/Horror

I will say this one is wildly entertaining with the way it goes from cute romance to horror to almost a slapstick comedy. It also has a pretty self aware yandere that grovels so that's also pretty fun. All in all while it's probably not the most realistically handled, it is super fun to read. I actually remembered this one back before it was officially translated and when it was just in black and white. It is currently at around 50 chapters at the time of writing this.

The story starts out with the main character Fujiko as she works at her office job. She seems to be a bit of a people pleaser, being easily pushed around. This is in part due to the fact that she has to work to help pay off her family's debts which made it so she couldn't go to college, which she feels insecure about. We get introduced to Fujiko's friend Tanabe as well as a close coworker named Sakamoto. After returning back from work, her new neighbor, Nishima introduces himself. Fujiko is immediately smitten with him. The two get closer and talk to each other when they drink outside on the balcony and Fujiko even accidentally causes a hole between the two of their apartments. After her boss ends up dumping more work onto her, she later is able to vent to Nishima about it and talk more about her past. She also gets to learn more about Nishima as well, seeing that he's not close to his siblings the same way that Fujiko is to her brother. At work, Tanabe shows Fujiko a magazine with a bunch of hot guys and Fujiko finds out that Nishima is actually the CEO's son of a big company and gets sad when she finds out that Nishima has a girlfriend despite himself saying that he's single. Of course, when he tells Nishima about it, he states he lied on the magazine so people would stop confessing to him. We get more backstory about Nishima, seeing that his dad isn't really that good of a dad and that Nishima is going to pave his own future. Fujiko ends up giving a winning popcicle stick to Nishima so he can cash it in for her. Fujiko gets a fever at work and Sakamoto brings her home so she can rest and he takes care of her. Nishima ends up appearing in her apartment shortly after, stating that Sakamoto didn't lock the door and he wandered in. He ends up feeding Fujiko with his own cooking and gets a bit jealous of Sakamoto. The next day, he ends up brining this up to Tanabe, telling her that her neighbor was indeed the CEO that was in the magazine, though this gets resolved quickly as Tanabe was already dating someone and doesn't even remember who they were talking about. Tanabe and Fujiko go out on the night but upon returning home gets harassed by a bunch of guys. Here, Nishima ends up finding them and warding the guys away. He is able to drive her home safely and they even exchange numbers. Fujiko's brother comes to visit her and after talking to Nishima tells him that her brother is coming to visit and Nishima asks if he could meet him. She ends up talking about this with Tanabe, and while watching the news of a woman who fell out of a five story building, Fujiko recalls saving someone from suicide by talking then down from it, though she doesn't remember much. Fujiko picks up her brother, Toshimune and Fujiko reminisces about how she basically raised him. Nishima comes to visit and makes a good impression on Toshimune by giving him new shoes as a gift and while Fujiko is quickly doing laundry, she overhears Toshimune talking to Nishima about how great his sister is and how she did her best to make sure that he had a normal life. Toshimune goes home and in return for giving Toshimune really expensive shoes, Fujiko agress to cook for Nishimia. While they eat Fujiko's meal together, Fujiko solidifies her crush on him and the two kiss.

While thinking about their relationship, Fujiko's payslip flies out of her hands and into Nishima's apartment. Not wanting to disturb him, she decides to crawl into the hole connecting to their two apartments to retrieve it. Inside, Fujiko immediately finds an entire wall filled with her pictures. After looking around, she also finds a journal detailing all of his exchanges with Fujiko starting from yesterday onwards. She also finds his collection of stolen things from Fujiko. We cut to Nishima at work thinking about Fujiko and the kiss they had together. We get to see him tracking Fujiko and seeing his perspective when he saved her and Tanabe from those drunk guys and we also see how much stress Nishimia's work has had on him as he got promoted, seeing Fujiko as his only source of comfort. It gets confirmed that he was the guy that Fujiko saved from suicide all those years ago, and he ended up changing his appearance to fit her type as well as has been stalking her all this time. We see how happy he was when he first met Fujiko and talked to her as well as how he was completely aware that what he was doing was wrong, but could not stop. Upon coming home he gets the horrible realization that someone has looked through his stuff and immediately and correctly guesses that Fujiko had finally come in and found what he had been doing. Nishima freaks out and begs and knocks at Fujiko's door leading to Fujiko looking at him with disgust and giving back his cup. Nishima just drops the act entirely and goes full simp ( I don't have a better way to phrase this ). At work, she mulls over what is happening and feels completely unnerved to be at home. Instead of calling the police, Fujiko turns to Sakamoto to help with the problem. Sakamoto gets a bug detector from his house to scan her and when Sakamoto asks why she hasn't called the police yet, Fujiko states its because of how he was about to cry and also because since Nishima is rich, it would cause her to unnecessarily be involved in a lot of news. Sakamoto and Fujiko decide to pretend to be a couple so that Nishima will come over and the two can take him down. The two of them basically do this inside the apartment until Sakamoto attempts to fake kiss Fujiko and Nishima breaks in with a panic. Sakamoto is able to take Nishima down and tie him up. Sakamoto makes Nishima admit to what he's been doing including revealing that he put bugs in the wall sockets and put a tracking device in her stuffed animal keychain. Nishima reveals to Fujiko that he was the one he saved from jumping off the building years ago, though the reason why Fujiko didn't remember him is because he looked extremely different than he did before. After hearing his reasoning, Fujiko decides to not report this to the police as she doesn't want their two companies to be involved. She decides to not press charges as long as Nishima stops stalking her and being creepy, which he agrees to. The two end up going into the apartment to see Nishima's creepy collection of Fujiko things though Fujiko seems to be okay with keeping some of the things (like pictures and some of the diary entries) because she has such little documentation on her own life. Though he seems to accept his punishment he freaks out a bit when he realizes he won't be able to talk to her though does accept it as he doesn't want her to call the police on him next time.

The next day, Fujiko comes back and talks to one of her other neighbors who mentions that Nishima has been playing really loud music above from him as well as a ton of other noise. Fujiko starts to worry about Nishima and reads one of his diary entries. After he goes quiet, Fujiko gets worried and basically starts stalking Nishima back only to find him talking to another woman. She comes back sad and jealous. The next day, Tanabe, Fujiko and Sakamoto go out to a cat cafe after work to help ease Fujiko's nerves. Sakamoto reveals that he ended up telling Tanabe about everything after she pestered him enough and the three have a heartwarming conversation about everything that happened. The three of them celebrate Christmas together and it turns out that Sakamoto ended up inviting Nishima over so the two could talk. Everyone eventually gets drunk except for Nishima and Fujiko and the two start talking about what has been happening recently. He reveals that he made all that loud noise to get Fujiko to come over, but it failed. We also learn more about his parents, that they pushed him to be a perfectionist to the point of him torturing himself, to which Fujiko tries to reassure him stating that his parents probably wanted the best for him.

At work, there is a new hire that starts to work under Fujiko, Toru Takayama. While she has no interest in him, she ends up telling Nishima about it who gets jealous rather quickly, which scares her when he smells him on her after she has a afterwork drink with him. She gives a Christmas gift to Nishima, but after a while his apartment goes quiet and he doesn't return Fujiko's calls, worrying her. He moves out and leaves a letter for her, but after reading it, she goes to his company to talk to him. After meeting up, Fujiko confesses to him her feelings and the two of them become a couple. They go to a shrine afterwards where Nishima proposes to her to which she accepts.

So I will say the amount of whiplash some parts of the story gave me was pretty funny to say the least. In the beginning it starts out as a general romance story about two neighbors who fall in love. If you had no idea of the tropes of a yandere story, or saw the small hints, you probably would have no idea that he is one because it does a good job at maintaining Fujiko's perspective and doesn't make Nishima's actions too suspicious (I'd say at least). When she does find out that he has been stalking her, it turns more into horror, but ultimately becomes a lot less serious as she decides not to call the police on him. She does have some valid reasons for not doing so, like not getting Nishima's family involved and not getting their two companies involved, her main reason still seems to be because she still has a crush on him, which her other two friends understandably are a bit iffy about. From that point on, she eventually falls in love with him again and Nishima gets a bit less intense in his stalking. I think that for a lot of people this was somewhat of a turn off for the series given that it suddenly because a lot less realistic as I'm sure most people would have called the police given the fact that she found out that her neighbor was stalking her, but I personally find it pretty interesting how the story itself was able to evoke so many different reactions when it changed tones. It might be because she reacted so realistically to finding out and how most of the general things that happened in the plot are pretty realistic and that when she was stalked that the sudden shift in tone to romance was just too much, so people were put off by it. Honestly, the thing that is the most unrealistic is more the fact that Fujiko didn't call the police or at least properly sever the relationship with Nishima all because she still had a crush on him, which does effect the quality of the story, but I feel like its not so terrible that it ruins the entire thing. It is still heavily romance, so they had to get that romance in there somewhere.

Fujiko as an MC is pretty interesting to see because we can see how her childhood and life has affected how she views a lot of the world in the story. As a child her family was in debt so she had to work hard to pay them off and get out of it, which made her develop a complex for not being able to go to college or other higher education. We also see that this leads to her being a lot more of a people pleaser as a lot of work is put onto her by her boss, as she cannot push back and she can't lose this job. She has a close relationship with her brother, though it is mentioned by him that she basically raised him and gave him the opportunities she never had such as going to college. A lot of times, she never really focuses on herself too much, even stating that she never had this many pictures of herself when she finds the photos that Nishima has been taken. Other than her general lead of having romance take over some of her more common sense, she is very realistic in a lot of ways, a salary woman who is trying hard to pay off her family's debts. You can even debate that when she tries to reassure Nishima that his family does love him despite the fact that they put so much pressure on him to succeed that this is how she views her family as well, as she herself never talks ill of her own family despite the fact that she is burdened with having to pay off the debt that they accumulated. Whether or not this family is actually loving or not is hard to say since other than her brother, we never get to meet them, so it is hard to say whether she herself might not realize that her family members may not care for her as much as she realizes or that her family does really care but she has taken this debt upon herself. She is generally a pretty basic person in terms of the way she acts, but I do think that her background does make it compelling when we see her act in certain ways, as we can see where some of her thinking and others come from. She contrasts really well with Nishima as well, someone who is rich but whose family has also placed a great burden on him, so just in the same way that Fujiko saved him from jumping off, he might save her too from her family's debt.

Nishima as a character is generally standard in the way the rich CEO kids work in these stories but it is still fun to see his reasonings for everything. In his family he is the eldest and strived to be the best for his family members, however, either because of himself or his family's expectations (probably a bit of both though his family did put a lot of pressure on him), he ended up being too much of a perfectionist, causing him to be extremely stressed out to the point of wanting to jump off. He is saved by Fujiko and bit by bit changed himself to be someone that she would like, by changing his appearance, mannerisms and other things. While he is able to maintain this facade of being the perfect man, the moment that he learns that Fujiko finds out he's been stalking her, it completely drops to an almost overly obsessive and worshiping degree (well, I'm not complaining about that, haha), to the point of comedy. Nishima is the type of yandere who is aware that his actions are wrong but is unable to stop himself form doing so, and bit by bit gets closer to her. Fujiko has saved him in a lot of ways, not only his life but also his way of living because while he still has strife with how his family treats him, he is no longer to the point of wanting to die. Most of his yandere actions are on the point of a stalker- taking pictures of her, writing about her in a dairy spanning three plus years, saving items from her, tracking her, listening in on her, but when the facade drops, he also ends up becoming extremely worship heavy in a lot of sense-praising her for her basic actions like pouring tea or even just glaring at her. True sub yandere stuff, I live for that kind of thing. After the two talk it out, and he is no longer able to talk to Fujiko which causes him great strife and does try to get her to come over by making a lot of loud noises. While he does reform to some degree, he likely does keep a lot of his tendencies even afterwards, at least to not scare Fujiko. While overall, Nishima is essentially a relatively harmless yandere, I do like how the more grounded story makes it pretty chilling to see when Fujiko actually finds out about his stalking and how scared she is to see what he's done- at least initially. If Nishima were a bit more deranged, this probably wouldn't have gone as well as the story would have ended up being. Takayama might end up being a yandere as well in the future given some expressions that we see when talking to Fujiko, but we'll just have to wait and see.

The side characters, Tanabe, Sakamoto and Tashihibe are pretty fun. Although Tashihibe barely shows up, he definitely reminds me of my own brother (though Tashihibe is a lot more of a himbo) and I enjoy that he is able to talk more a bit about how he looks up to his sister and acknowledges what she's done to make his life better. Tanabe is pretty fun too, with a small conflict about Fujiko's jealousy as well as a good relationship she has that helps her feel less alone in both the workplace and at home. The real MVP is definitely Sakamoto though. He starts out seeming like just a playboy, but he is actually very caring towards Fujiko, taking her home when she gets sick, talking to her about not overworking herself and even helps to capture Nishima as he's the first person that she tells about the stalking in general as well as helping her find any of the bugs and tracking that Nishima might have put on her. I thought that I might not like this guy as much or that he might have become a love interest, but so far it doesn't seem that way at all, though he was a psuedo rival that Nishima had to compete with and is generally just a pretty reliable guy.

Overall, this story is pretty grounded, though very wild in its tonal shifts. I don't think it's an absolute masterpiece but it is very entertaining and I do like the various characters we see in it as it gives them likable and relatable personalities. Plus, if you have a hole in your heart from the Senior sitting next to you, this one has a yandere similar to that. His expressions and reactions are very fun and enjoyable.

[mongoosingisme]

H'okay, trying this again on the big internet (formatting is hard on a phone)

Responding to this LOVELY 2-part ask from a couple days ago, specifically part 2.

It's a direct continuation of Pepper Problems, so you'll prolly want to read that first (but I mean you do you).

I expect to tie two more requests into this series, so if you're waiting on me I SEE YOU I HEAR YOU I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH YOUR TIME IS COMING.

Okay. Housekeeping over.

Title: (Insert clever title here - the draft is called "Shane Longing Two")

Pairing: Shane x fem!farmer

Word Count: 2929

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only, if you would be so kind

Fic and tags under the cut!

Tags: Fantasized oral sex, actual honest to goodness oral sex, longing, pining, yearning, etc etc etc, also some boob touching

The farmer was a problem.

Shane had given up trying to solve it. There was no solving with her. Only enduring.

He knew how to endure.

She’d gotten comfortable with him over the months. Sliding onto the stool next to his a few times a week. Telling him about her day, whether he asked her about it or not. Trading jokes with Emily. A wave and a cheerful greeting to anyone who passed by.

Still a ray of fucking sunshine, even as the days grew short and dark and the holidays approached.

Shane hated this time of year.

There was the practical (gifts: what do you even get for a six year old? Or your aunt, who’d been looking at you like she once looked at an injured donkey, a look of frustration and pain and anticipated grief?)

There was the existential (another year with no changes, just the spiral of existence crushing in closer, same and same and same yet somehow heavier and heavier and heavier)

There was the farmer, showing off a dress that Emily had made for her.

She stood and twirled. “What do you think?” 

She was talking to the writer. The one she talked to Emily about. Mr. “He’s really handsome, isn’t he? With the hair and all? But he’s focused on his writing right now and I’m not looking for anything so we’re just gonna keep it as friends.”

“A vision!” The writer was leaping up, spinning her around. A dervish of velvet and curves gently hugged, toes barely seeming to touch the floor.

If she asked what Shane thought about her dress he’d say nothing. Because what he thought is that he wanted to know what she was wearing underneath, and if what he could uncover would feel as soft on his tongue as the fabric he’d crush and tear to get there.

See? A problem. A big fucking problem that wasn’t getting any better.

“I don’t want to go.” She was sitting down next to him, the lightness gone from her voice. Always so much quieter when he was near her. 

“So don’t.” Not much more to say than that.

She sighed. “Yeah, but it’s the holidays and it’s family, y’know?”

Shane didn’t know, but he absolutely was not opening that can of worms, no fucking thank you.

He made a noncommittal sound.

“Oh! I just remembered!” She tapped the back of her hand against his shoulder. She was always touching him like that, all casual and off-hand. Every time it felt like a shock going through him. Kept his mind from clouding, from drifting. 

He loved it and he hated it. 

“I was gonna ask - could you look in on the chickens for me while I’m gone? Just once or twice? They should be all set up with food and stuff, I just hate to think of the heater going out or something.”

“What do I get out of it?” His question was for show. He’d do whatever she needed in a heartbeat.

She didn’t need to know that, though.

“The satisfaction of a job well done?” She gave him her best “I am sunshine incarnate” smile.

Shane gave her a look of disgust. 

It made her laugh.

He liked it when that happened.

He wanted it to happen more.

It was a problem.

“Check in on the house too and I’ll pick up your tab for a couple nights. I don’t trust the boiler - wanna make sure it keeps pumping while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, alright.” He did his best not to sound eager. Like the idea of poking around her house a bit wasn’t appealing. Like he wasn’t actually the creep he knew he was.

“Thank you.” She sounded relieved, gave him one of those real smiles. 

Shane didn’t respond. He just took a drink.

“Your dress!” Emily had caught sight of the farmer, was hurrying over to see her. 

“My dress! It’s perfect! Thank you!” She was standing again, spinning, light and joyful, the skirt flaring out in a way that let Shane catch a glimpse of thigh.

The farmer always wore pants.

She was less of a problem in pants.

“You look incredible! Shane! Doesn’t she look amazing?”

Fucking Emily. She knew exactly what she was doing. 

What was he supposed to say? That the dress was sparking a new obsession? That he was fixated on how loose the skirt was, how easy it would be to ruck up, how anything she was wearing underneath would be nothing, nothing to rip and tear and pull aside? That the velvet could fall around his head, muffling the sounds she’d make, just a little, as he ran his mouth and his tongue and his lips and his fingers over the part of her that had to be the most warm, the most her?

Was that what he was supposed to say?

The farmer gave him that fake grin again. The sunshine one. The one that made her eyes sparkle. 

It was an out, he realized.

“Seen better,” he said, and took a drink.

“Ugh!” The farmer put her hands over her heart as though wounded. 

“See, he was raised in a barn,” Emily said. “Literally right next to a horse’s ass. Really rubbed off on him.”

“You rubbed off on a horse’s ass?” 

Shane shot the farmer a sideways look. She was smirking. Fucking cutie.

“It was a magical time,” Shane droned. 

Emily rolled her eyes. “You two deserve each other.”

“Not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment.” The farmer settled back down.

“Insult,” Shane and Emily said together.

“Well, fuck you too, then!” the farmer said cheerfully, and drained her drink.

———————

Shane had been drinking more these days.

It wasn’t a problem.

Everything else was the problem.

The sound Marnie would make when he retched in the morning.

The way work made his shoulder ache.

The way his boss looked at him like he wasn’t quite a full person.

The way Jas would wake up crying some nights, gasping, sobbing, reaching out and clutching and there was no calming her, and it was easier to just let Marnie take care of it, to soothe her like she used to soothe him, to put a pillow over his head and drown in uselessness, to wonder if she really would be worse off without him.

The farmer.

So it was established. The drinking wasn’t the issue. 

He was going to skip it that night anyway. Head straight for the farmer’s house after work, check on the chickens, go and inside and… fuck, what was it he was supposed to do?

But it was cold out, and work had been long with all of the holiday merchandise going out, so he’d stopped by the saloon for a drink or six.

It was still cold when he left. Colder, really, snow coming down all hard, like pellets, and he’d forgotten his gloves that day. He wasn’t moving all that fast. The road kept jutting up to make him stumble. It took a while to get to the farm. 

He was shivering as he finally ducked into the coop. All was well, the chickens warm and cozy. The heater was running. It felt nice on his chilled cheeks. The coop smelled good, all fresh shavings and warm, healthy hens. He thought about picking one up, letting its heat soak into his hands, but they were sleeping and he didn’t want to disturb them.

The farmer’s door was locked. The key was under the mat like she said, and the house felt warm when he stepped inside. He turned on a lamp by the door.

He’d never been in her house.

It was messier than he expected. Tools strewn on the kitchen counter. A pile of books and mail on an armchair. Clumps of fur in the corners (did she have a pet?). Laundry piled on the back of the couch.

He drifted over.

His hands were a problem. 

They were picking up a shirt from the pile of laundry, bringing it to his face. It smelled worn, a faint scent of soap covered by something earthier. He breathed in deep.

His cock twitched.

The room was spinning, just a little.

It wasn’t a problem.

He wondered what else he could find in her laundry pile.

His cock was getting harder.

It was okay. He had infinite space for shame.

He lifted the next garment (leggings, by the look of them) when he heard a rhythmic banging. Boots knocking off snow on the front porch. He dropped the pants, kept his body turned towards the couch as the door opened.

“Fuck!” It was the farmer. He turned part way to look at her. She was covered in snow, velvet dress peeking out from a puffy coat, holding a hand over her heart. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Shane mumbled.

His cock was a problem.

She was a problem.

“Shit, you’re here. I tried to text you, but Yoba forbid I get any fucking service when we’re going through the desert.” She was shaking out her coat, hanging it up. “The thing got cancelled due to the storm, and of course no one tells me until I show up at the fucking venue, and if they think I’m going to hang around after all that they have another fucking thing coming.” 

Shane took a deep breath. Tried to will himself to relax.

His stomach was churning, fear and beer and embarrassment and want.

The room felt a little fuzzy around the edges.

“So I’m back, and it is fucking freezing out there.” She was messing with the thermostat. Shane heard the boiler start to purr somewhere below him.

He tried to focus on the sound, and not the way the farmer looked.

Her hair was wet, melting snow dragging it down.

Cheeks ruddy. Eyelashes dark. 

Fucking delicious in that dress.

A problem.

“I’m an ice cube, feel my hands!” 

“Fuck!” She’d pressed her cold fingertips to the back of his neck.

“You’re so warmmmmmm….” A hint of a moan. 

Something in him was fraying. 

“Except for my hands.” His voice was only a little ragged. It was playful, right? Giving as good as he got? Turning to face her, pressing his hands onto her neck and shoulders.

Yoba, she was warm there.

She made a sound of mock distress. “Gloves, Shane! Have you ever heard of them?”

The room was swimming now. The farmer was the only thing that felt real.

Her skin was so soft. His hands were moving on their own, fingers spreading, tracing down, brushing over the deep red velvet and the curves beneath.

Pressing.

The fabric was soft, but not as soft as the farmer.

“Shane?” She didn’t sound mad. She didn’t sound scared. She didn’t sound disgusted.

She sounded… curious.

She sounded like a problem that needed to be solved. 

Sometimes you could solve a problem with finesse.

But sometimes a grenade was also a solution. 

Shane knew where his strengths lay.

He fell to his knees.

“Are you alright?” Her hands were reaching down for him, gentle, worried. His were doing what they’d wanted to do since he’d first laid eyes on that dress: clutching at the skirt, pulling it up, letting his mouth fall forward.

“Fuck,” she gasped as he pressed up between her thighs. “How much did you… fuck.”

He had to press in deeper, to mouth against her. His lips were moving. The stubble that plagued his chin and cheeks caught at the nylon hose she wore. It pulled at his face. It separated him from her.

It was a problem.

So he solved it. The thin fabric parted easily beneath his fingers. Her dress draped over his head, just like he imagined it would, soft and quiet, blocking out the world.

But not the farmer. 

She was right there. A cry of surprise as he ripped her tights. Hands in his hair now, gripping tight, and fuck, he knew it, he fucking knew it, knew that she’d know just what to fucking do. He knew she’d grab hard, press him into her, press herself into him, offer herself up to his mouth and his teeth and his tongue and his fingers, fingers pulling, pulling cotton aside to reveal soft, warm, fragrant skin. 

So warm. So fucking warm.

So much softer than the velvet.

So pretty.

He ran his tongue down the place she parted. She whimpered, shifted her legs, tried to open up for him.

(what a good fucking girl, he knew it, knew she’d be so fucking good for him when he got his mouth on her…)

He could help with that. Shift forward and hook her leg up over his shoulder (the good one, the one that still felt strong and capable). Steady her as she leaned back against the couch. Pull and pull and pull at the gusset of her panties, the backs of his knuckles brushing against her folds as he did so. She gasped, pulled him in deeper, and she was all soft and wet and warm and welcoming, inviting him to taste, to fucking delve, and so he did. Tongue loose at first, covering as much as he could in case she changed her mind, pushed him away, left him sprawled on the floor, useless and alone.

But no, she was making noises, good noises that said he was supposed to stay right there.

(fuck, the noises she was making, breathy and needy, whines and gasps and little moans, better than he could have imagined, so much fucking better, raw and honest and real and good, almost as good as the way she tasted…)

So right there is where he stayed. Mouth wide, tongue firmer, listening to the sounds she made, cataloging the way she moved. Her hips were shifting, like she was trying to bear down on something, and oh fuck, oh sweetheart, he could absolutely help her with that. Not a problem at all to press his hand up, fingers searching, just one at first, stroking in time with his tongue, gentle and slow until she was whining, bearing down harder, welcoming him in

Yoba, she was wet.

(she wanted it she wanted it fuck fuck fuck she couldn’t hide it it was right fucking there, so wet and soft and yielding, he could push his cock right into her like this, so fucking ready so quick, so needy for him, she needed it like he did…)

Her moans changed as she clenched around him. Lower, longer. She tightened in time with her hands in his hair, clutching harder and loosening as her walls pulsed.

“More,” she gasped, and he didn’t know if she meant fingers or tongue, but did it matter when he could give her both? Press another finger into her, focus in on her clit. Quick flicks, she liked that, if the way she gasped his name was any indication.

(fuck fuck fuck fuck she was saying his name Yoba’s fucking Light he never would have thought his name could sound like that, like lips on his neck, like a tongue down his throat, like a hand stroking his cock…)

His mind was fuzzy, and the temptation to give over to instinct grew overwhelming. He let her hands in his hair guide him. Let the way her hips stuttered show him how fast to go. Let her use him, grind against his tongue, rock against his fingers. Let her drown him, take the breath from him, just movement and soft and wet and tight and gasps and sobs and his name 

(his name his name his name…)

And then her legs were shaking, hips taut, hands in his hair so tight it pricked tears in his eyes, and for a moment nothing was wrong, there was nothing dragging him down, only what he could give and what she would take, all perfectly aligned. 

An equation balanced.

A problem solved.

“Fuck, Shane!” She said it shaking, drawn out, clenching around him so tight and hot he wondered dimly if she’d branded him. 

He worked her through her climax, slowing as she loosened, as her grip became gentle, as she let go of his hair, let her fingers trail down his jaw, his neck.

He didn’t want to move, but something was churning in his stomach.

He didn’t have much space for good in his life.

The farmer wouldn’t fit.

He had to get the fuck out of there.

“Shane?” She sounded uncertain as he slipped out from under her hip. 

The room was spinning again.

A hammer had started pounding behind his right eye.

He staggered to his feet.

“Are you okay? You don’t… are you gonna be…?”

He hadn’t even taken his coat off. His boots were still on, heavy and loud as he made for the door.

“Shane!” She said it once more, in a voice he’d never heard before. Choked, a little panicked.

He didn’t look at her.

His face was wet. He didn’t notice it until he stumbled outside. He should wipe it off, probably, but he didn’t. The cold air stung. 

He could still taste her.

He could still feel her.

He could still hear her and see her.

He wanted to taste her and feel her and hear her and see her.

It was a problem.

It was a real fucking problem.

The snow swirled.

His head pounded.

The farmer was a problem.

And it was more clear than ever that he absolutely did not have the tools he needed to solve it.

[belovedcampfire]

A long, long list of Teddy Lupin headcanons because I love him so much <3333

He carries around a digital camera constantly and loves to post all the photos he takes on every outing. He decorates all his cameras and knows far too much about them and is deadly protective over his favourites. He has some scrappy ones he hands out for other people to use but his favs? They don’t leave his person. He has loads in different colours, either bought second hand or hand me downs and it started when he was gifted a really shitty camera as a kid and he ran around taking photos constantly for weeks.

Teddy swears he hates how affectionate his dads are but then a good chunk of his photos are candids of wolfstar cause it makes him happy to see them so in love. Teddy Lupin who does photoshoots for Tonks frequently, especially whenever she redyes her hair. He considers photos a mandatory part of hair dying and Tonks is more than happy with these photoshoots. He likes taking photos of everyday life, which usually includes a ton of people.

He learns far too many instruments and makes covers of songs where he plays each part. Again, all his instruments are covered in stickers. He loves to decorate stuff SO MUCH!! He can play guitar (electric and acoustic), piano, and is midway through learning bass and drums, just for fun. He’s a bit of a prodigy music wise. Plus he can dj, and has a neat little deck he got for his birthday one year.

He has a denim jacket covered in pins and patches, some he made himself and some used to be his parents when they were younger. (Between the three of Sirius, Remus and Tonks, they have a LOT of old badges and patches). Band ones, pride ones, political ones and ones he just thought were cute.

At the age of 10, Teddy was given a tamagotchi and continues to look after it even when he’s a teenager, replacing the batteries whenever they die. His poor parents are so used to the sound now, and whenever he couldn’t be around it for a while he would make them babysit. It took an unreasonable amount of time for Sirius to get the hang of it, Tonks used to have her own, Remus is just so baffled by the concept and follows along with it, and Fleur is surprisingly good at making sure it stays healthy and happy.

He has a strong attachment to popular ya media like the hunger games and Percy Jackson, but will deny it avidly if anyone asks (he still listens to the lightning thief musical). With that being said, if someone gets him started talking about it he won’t stop for hours.

Teddy Lupin who is the son of a teacher and yet gets caught ditching class multiple times. One time, he was two seconds away from piercing his own septum until one of his parents walked in and made him go to a professional. He always ends up in a concerning amount of relationship drama despite hardly caring and most of it not actually including him. He gets into quite a bit of trouble, though not entirely because he’s an asshole, just cause his priorities tend to lean towards hanging out with his friends and sticking up for others than being a diligent, quiet student. He got quite good at running away when he had a stint of tossing shaken up, half open bottles of pop at the homophobes of his school and then booking it.

He was obsessed with dinosaurs growing up. There was a good while where he would only eat food related to dinosaurs and his parents had to buy cookie cutters for his sandwiches. He had a dinosaur onesie he wore obsessively until he took it to the park and it got horrendously muddy and he compromised with only wearing it at home. He had dinosaur slippers, teddies, toys, books, everything possibly relating to dinosaurs.

He can speak French on account of Fleur, Tonks and Sirius who all do as well, and has written a few songs in the language. He can speak a little bit of Welsh from Remus’ side of the family as well, though he isn’t quite as good at that and mostly knows familial terms and terms of affection (since those are what he hears the most).

He has loads of piercings, he got his ears pierced the moment he was allowed to and never really stopped. He has several in each ear and many on his face, definitely at least a couple in his nose, probably getting one on his lip asap. And he loves fun jewellery for them, colourful piercing balls and ones with little stars on the end, twisting industrial bars etc. As soon as he turns 18 he starts getting tattoos, colourful ones winding all over his skin

When he was very young, like little kid young, he had a tutu he was obsessed with and wore constantly, EVERYWHERE. This came maybe after the dinosaur onesie so at first everyone was happy that at least it wasn’t a full onesie until he started trying to wear it to increasingly worse places to wear a tutu.

Teddy Lupin <33

[ladyyomiart]

Sharing one of my favorite Souji/Kohana scenes, where the latter is given the huge gesture of endearment of being threatened with death by Souji. 🥺💖 Death threats are just his love language, okay? Leave him alone! He's trying his best! (Not really, lol 😂).

"Whatever." Kohana massaged her temples, groaning in disgust as she felt her fingertips sticking to the warm blood soaking her forehead. "Oh my God, I think I'm going to throw up."

"You're too calm." He shrugged as he clarified: "Regarding the attempted assault, of course, not the murders. It's not the first time you've been through this, is it?"

Kohana frowned, giving him a wary look as she asked: "How do you know?"

He could've told her that one harassed individual recognizes another, but he preferred to maintain the emotional distance that separated the two of them. He would gain nothing by confiding his deepest secrets to the one he still considered a spoiled brat. "You're a maiko and you have to deal with jerks who mistake you for a prostitute on a daily basis."

"That's right," she replied with renewed arrogance, lifting her chin to add: "And that's why I had the fan Serizawa-san gave me; a weapon that would've protected me from those thugs if someone hadn't confiscated it when I arrived at the headquarters."

Okita's eyes widened as guilt pierced his heart like a poisoned arrow.

"Do you realize now?" Kohana pointed at him with a bloody hand that only added to the strength of her argument. "I told you that Serizawa-san gave me that artifact as a gift to fend off the brutes who would try to mess with me and you took it from me as soon as I set foot in the den of the Mibu Wolves!"

"Well I didn't think the damn recruits would have the guts to sneak into your room while I'm guarding it!"

"Guarding?" Kohana blinked. "You've been watching over my safety all this time?"

"Don't think yourself special," he hurried to clarify as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm covering the shifts of a comrade who's in detention and another who's off duty. Your safety is just part of my daily duties." He dug into his pockets to pull out the fan and unfold it in front of her with a swift movement of his right hand. "And as such... I think I should return this to you."

"My fan!" Kohana stepped forward as if she had found an oasis in the middle of the desert, but Okita slammed the fan shut and pushed it away from her reach.

"If you use it to escape from the headquarters," he warned with eyes resembling two lines of a mesmerizing green tint, "this time I will hunt you down... and I'll kill you."

Kohana took a step back. "Are you threatening to kill me?"

Okita raised his eyebrows. "I don't think you have that many ways of interpreting my condition."

"That's fine." She dropped her arms by her body and gave a brief nod. "I promise I won't use it to escape from the headquarters. Can you give it to me already?"

"Sure." He held out the fan and Kohana grabbed it quickly out of his hands. "It's up to you whether that thing keeps you breathing or not."

[Excerpt from Chapter 17 "Salvation" of my Canon x OC Hakuouki fanfic "A Friend Like You"].

this week's word is...

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[beatndog]

the leaders! a little synopsis for each of them below.

reedheart was a shoo-in. he was brave, charming, loyal, and most importantly, his clan adored him. so when the position opened up due to an unfortunate incident at sunningrocks, not a soul was surprised when hopstar chose him as deputy. and what a deputy he was! reedheart was playful with the kits, patient with the apprentices, and reverent towards the elders. he bantered with his fellow warriors, yet when battle called, he lead them without flinching.

reedheart was young. only 30 moons or so when he was chosen deputy, and still training his third apprentice. it was part of his charm, to be sure. but he simply could not have had the experience and wisdom of more senior warriors. this was a nonissue as deputy— all he really needed to do was designate patrols, train the apprentices, and serve his clan as he always had.

but hopstar was not long for this world when reedheart became deputy. she passed away a few short moons later, leaving reedheart— now reedstar— to pick up the mantle. reedstar felt almost blindsided. he always knew he might be leader, but it seemed so soon. under his confident façade, reedstar constantly doubts himself. his decision-making, his diplomacy, and most of all, his connection with starclan. reedstar’s life-giving ceremony was curt, and he seldom senses his ancestors’ approval in daily life. sometimes he wonders if they outright disapprove of his leadership.

luckily, reedstar’s mate and deputy frostwing is always by his side. frostwing’s cool head and analytical ability help reedstar where his intuition fails. the two spend hours patrolling thunderclan’s territory alone, talking of plans for the future. some critics of reedstar’s regime refer to her as froststar.

reedstar is determined to maintain thunderclan’s allegiance with shadowclan, despite beetlestar’s seeming disdain towards him. he also wants to strengthen relations with windclan, considering they’ve entered a period of relative prosperity.

reedstar is still young, his leadership short. only time will tell if he can lead thunderclan to greatness or fail when it relied most upon him.

-

beetlestar is as stoic as her predecessor, crowstar. but where crowstar was gracious and diplomatic, beetlestar always puts shadowclan first. during thunderclan’s disease epidemic, she was one of the warriors who protested crowstar’s decision to allow thunderclan cats to study under fogflight, fearing disease transmission and thunderclan espionage.

beetlestar never took a mate or kits; all her attention is focused on her clan. if she were ever one to joke (though some doubt she ever would), she’d say that shadowclan was her one true love.

in the winter moons, beetlestar rations food very tightly, making absolute certain elders and nursing queens eat first (and warriors sometimes not at all). she seldom starts fights, but always finishes them. though many shadowclan cats have their own opinions on beetlestar’s leadership, the only cat she really listens to is fogflight, the medicine cat. the two have always been close— beetlestar holds the molly in tremendously high regard.

as for the other clans, beetlestar varies in begrudging respect for the scrupulous toestar to contempt for the young and inexperienced reedstar. she fears riverclan’s newfound ambition under dewstar and is glad the two clans don’t share a border.

beetlestar only ever wants the best for shadowclan. she will pursue it by any means necessary.

-

dewstar is larger than life. literally. his parents were big and powerful, his siblings are big and powerful, and dewstar himself is a force to be reckoned with. but dewstar’s true gift isn’t his brawn. it’s his silver tongue. the tom has always promised his clanmates the world. even when he was a kit, he told them he’d one day be leader and elevate riverclan to a place of hegemony over the forest. “we’ll all be fat and happy,” he’d promise his clanmates. “you just wait and see.”

it doesn’t hurt that he came from a long line of outstanding warriors. his father would have been deputy, maybe even leader, had he not been so committed to his family. it was never in question that dewkit would be great; it was only a matter of how great he would be.

as riverclan’s elderly deputy ailed, dewfang’s twin sister and medicine cat coldsky recieved an omen in the form of a dewy leaf, despite it being the middle of a hot summer’s day. riverclan’s leader took it to mean that dewfang was indeed fit to be deputy.

the rest is history.

dewstar tends to regard the other clans as a homogenous mass of inferiors. they could never have what riverclan has. the traditions, the aspirations of riverclan simply dwarfs whatever the others may put forth. it is for this reason that the normally peaceful riverclan has began to encroach on both thunderclan and windclan territory. reedstar and toestar both quietly fear dewstar, and worry that his big talk may someday become actionable.

-

toestar (synopsis taken from here!) trained as a tunneler before becoming warrior, deputy and then leader. during her tenure, she’s reformed windclan traditions so that every apprentice had some background in tunneling and tunneling safety whether they were tunnelers or moor-runners. she also instituted more robust rules for tunneling, like making sure no cat ever went solo and never went into the tunnels when there was a chance of flooding.

toestar loves the tunnels. she treats it as an art form and something that made windclan special, but she also knows how dangerous they could be. some believe toestar is too careful, maybe even cowardly, but windclan hasn’t lost a soul to the tunnels since she instituted reforms.

toestar has also spent her life trying to bridge the gap between tunnelers and moor-runners. she sees both practices as two sides of the same coin, and believes windclan needs both skillsets in order to thrive. as an older warrior, she trained in moor-running so that she could eventually teach both specialties.

toestar has seen young warriors grow into fine leaders. she hopes reedstar will live up to expectations, and regards him with kindness and respect. though windclan is not so friendly with shadowclan or riverclan, toestar isn’t one to start fights. still, she fears that border disputes with riverclan may soon come to a head.

[norestforthespookywriters]

She couldn't recall when it started, exactly, but it must have been very early in her arrival to Portland Row. Just a light tap on the door, "snacks," and then the pattering of feet lightly treading down the stairs.

Soft, polite, in case she really had been asleep instead of laying in bed rehashing every mistake she'd made during the day.

She'd followed the voice - the footsteps - into the dimly-lit kitchen, where the boys stood, leaning against countertops with chocolate-drizzled popcorn piled lightly onto dinner plates, quiet - nearly silent - as they shared their secret late-night (or, more properly, early morning) snack.

The silence - the dim lights - were all a part of it, as was the plate, already prepared for her well before the knock. It was like a secret - a surprise, and all of them were in on it. Like a tooth fairy, but for snacks.

Where the tradition started - with who - hadn't ever been a question she felt ready to ask. Was it George? Or was this some vestige of Lockwood's past?

Would acknowledging they even happen end them completely?

Somehow, she thought, it would shatter their magic. The shared smiles and silence were fragile, like every day the three of them had together -- a gift, but one that would inevitably be broken.

[scary-grace]

spinneraiba acts so normal whilst shigarakireader has never been normal a day in their life. During the fight in Casual I think spinneraiba are at the grocery store considering trying out kombucha together.

You got it. Based on this.

“What do you think?” Spinner asks, glancing sideways at his girlfriend. “Blueberry or strawberry? Or should we go with plain, since it’s our first time?”

Manami shrugs, lost in thought. Spinner wonders if he pressured her into this somehow — it’s Valentine’s Day, he didn’t make himself easy to buy a gift for, he goofed up his reaction to what she got him out of shock, and now she feels like she has to agree to this to make it up to him. Maybe Spinner should walk it back. She’s his girlfriend. He would never want —

“One of each,” Manami says, and Spinner breathes a sigh of relief and pulls open the refrigerator door. And he thinks he’s gotten away clean, until Manami speaks up again. “I can’t believe you said that to her.”

Spinner’s still kind of new to having a girlfriend, but he still knows what trouble sounds like. “It was part of the plan.”

“The plan said you had to tell her that Shigaraki had a date,” Manami corrects. “You didn’t have to tell her the date would be hot.”

“She is. Not as hot as you, obviously — you’re like, the hottest — but —” Spinner’s digging himself a deeper hole. “Why is it a bad thing if it’s true?”

“Because you saw her face when you said that. She looked awful,” Manami says. She picks out a bottle of strawberry kombucha, leaving Spinner to grab plain and blueberry. “She’s really upset.”

“Good,” Spinner says, and Manami glares at him. “It is! It means Shigaraki’s plan is going to work.”

When Spinner and Manami got together, Shigaraki was the first one Spinner told, and Shigaraki was happy for him. But when Spinner told Shigaraki that Manami had offered to set him up with some of her gamer friends, Shigaraki got a weird, shifty look on his face. Spinner pushed him on it, so Spinner was the first one to find out that Shigaraki’s been sleeping with his roommate for months and caught feelings within the first three weeks.

Spinner can see it, sort of — you and Shigaraki get along in weird ways, and you’re the first non-League person Spinner’s seen Shigaraki put up with on a regular basis — but he also sees why Shigaraki’s got a problem. You play stuff really close to your chest, just like Shigaraki does, and you’re a lot harder to read. At least to Spinner. Maybe not to Manami, who’s glaring at him. “What?”

“Shigaraki’s plan is bad,” she says. “And he wouldn’t need it if he’d just tell her how he feels.”

“He can’t,” Spinner says. “It has to be her.”

“Why? You told me how you feel.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Spinner says. He really hadn’t meant to confess. It just sort of slipped out, and when he saw how Manami’s face lit up, there was no way he was ever going to walk it back. “And you liked me too.”

“She likes him, too. Or she wouldn’t have looked so upset when you told her about the date,” Manami says. Huh. Now that Spinner thinks about it, you didn’t exactly look happy for Shigaraki. “If Shigaraki just talked about his feelings like an adult, he could have gone on a date with her instead of with some cosplayer he doesn’t even like that much.”

“He definitely likes her,” Spinner says. Manami shakes her head. “Hey. He’s my friend. I’d know.”

“Did he sound happy telling you about the date?” Manami asks as they make their way up to the cash register, grabbing snacks along the way. “I mean, did he sound like you sounded when you told him about your first date with me?”

“He sounded like he was talking about the dentist,” Spinner says, and stops in the middle of the aisle. “Shit. This was a really bad idea.”

Manami nods sagely. She’s cute when she gets one over on Spinner about something. “I told you,” she says. “Let’s go home. I don’t want to try this stuff in front of everybody in case it’s gross.”

Spinner’s fine with that, but he can’t shake the idea that he set his best friend up to crash and burn. “I should call Shigaraki. Or her. Maybe I can —”

“They can work it out,” Manami says. “Love works itself out. It did for us.”

Spinner’s jaw drops, and he almost drops the kombucha right along with it. “You love me?”

Manami blushes. “Yeah,” she says. “I didn’t mean to say it yet.”

Spinner knows people have been hard on Manami for coming on too strong, for having too many feelings, but he likes that about her. More than likes it. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all month,” he says. “I love you, too.”

“Really?” Manami’s eyes are shining. She hugs Spinner around the kombucha bottles, then stands up on her tiptoes for a kiss. Even on her tiptoes, in platform boots, Spinner still has to lean down to kiss her back. He can’t exactly pick her up in public. Or while he’s holding kombucha. “I love you, too. But —”

Spinner’s wary. “But what?”

“But the next time you and Shigaraki are cooking up some weird plan to make the girl he likes say she likes him first, ask me about it,” Manami says. “Promise.”

That’s the easiest promise Spinner’s ever made. After what a mess tonight’s plan is probably turning out to be, they could use some outside feedback. “You got it.”

[cloyingblccd]

It made perfect sense that she was studying film. Everything about her was - exuberant. Larger than life in the exact way a movie sometimes made you feel when you left the theater. It’d been light when you went in, dark when you left, a part of some kinship with the story you’d just watched. Listening to her talk with a proper - excitement and joy for the mischief they’d just gotten into, it was contagious. Soren couldn’t settle his own laughter as she continued to collect herself, shoulders still heaving with adrenaline. “What, you wanna do this again?” It was both a question and an invitation - more surprised than anything. In that moment, he might’ve followed her anywhere. For someone that claimed she’d never done this before, Magdalena and deception seemed to catch on like a house on fire. Soren found himself a moth to the flame, so bewildered by the joyous outcome of their few moments together that he felt more intoxicated than when they’d left the bar. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. “Oh - nah, I go to Palladian. Moved here a few years ago.” It was all he was willing to offer, really. Soren never delved into his past, even with friends of a few years. He liked to tell himself it never felt worth it, but the idea of opening up about himself was about as appealing as yanking out all of his teeth. As she laced their arms together, Soren didn’t hesitate to stretch the extra mile, intertwining his fingers with hers. It wouldn’t be hard to believe any of the scenarios she eagerly came up with, they looked the part of a devoted couple - the hardships simply what would gift them their rewards. “I think a bottle of wine would get us further than a measly shot. I can be your shitty cheating boyfriend, sure. Counter argument - I’ll buy you a ring pop and we’ll be like those cheesy couples that can’t afford a real ring but can’t stand another minute without being dedicated to each other anyway. It’s pretty accurate to real life anyway, I’m dirt broke. But a fake engagement could get us a shot, bottle of wine, and a free dinner, I bet. If we play our cards right - you seem like an expert.”

Dutifully, Soren leaned in close, playing up listening to her emphatically when she introduced herself. It seemed important - like she was telling him something that was meant for just them, and just them only, instead of simply gifting him with her name. “Magdalena.” He repeated, testing how it sounded coming from his mouth, playing up the importance right back at her. Soren leaned in closer then, ready to share his own secret. “That’s pretty - real pretty. It suits you. I’m Soren.” He wasn’t quite sure what possessed him, turned him into the most tender human being. Just because he met this girl who enjoyed his antics instead of shied from them - it was always hard to deny himself the intimacy he constantly craved when he met a Magdalena type, but it was rare when he did so. And no one had ever been as eager as she was. It made him flush, though he’d hate to admit it if anyone ever pointed it out. It felt like something worthwhile, that she gave him her devotion. He wanted to make use of it instead of taking it for granted. With the free hand that wasn’t holding onto hers, Soren swiped a stray lock of her hair back, fingertip tracing seamlessly down her cheekbone. It felt like they completely bypassed flirting and went straight to unfiltered adoration. “I hate to be forward here, Magdalena - I consider myself a proper gentleman, y’know. But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna kiss you."

shoulders moved up and down , breathing heavily as if she'd completed a marathon . only , there was nothing but elation illuminating her eyes , her very being . lit up from the inside out , a spotlight on her . rather than choke up , get nervous and ruin her lines , she came to life . the role perfectly crafted for her . magdalena's entire life had been nothing but a play , some kind of storybook or fairytale . every bad thing leading up to her happy ending . she'd been training for this role since her mother laid eyes on the positive pregnancy test and cried . tears of sorrow rather than tears of joy . " i'm studying film . must have picked up a few tricks . " words said nonchalantly , contrasting the grin covering her face . laughter left her lips as he described his point of view , seeing herself from his eyes . a hero . his hero . finally , her chance to save someone . life spent waiting to be saved when she had the power in her own two hands the entire time . eyes shifted to her ring finger . hand moving up and down , testing an invisible weight . " i didn't even notice . you ought to buy me one and we can try again somewhere else . we could get this down to a perfect science . " dreaminess laced her words , already making plans for the two of them . even if it was pretend , she wanted a ring . a symbol of someone's commitment to her for forever . ignoring the need for it to be mutual . " are you from langston ? i haven't seen you around before . " assumptions made only on his accent . she wouldn't know everyone , but she wished she did . rather , she wished everyone would know her . " really ? " practically jumping in excitment . her arm laced his , eager to go somewhere new . eager to be someone new . if only for the night . " where to next ? what's the next role ? you just cheated and i slap you and cry . i'll leave with a free bottle of wine . to share with you of course . best friends and you're sad i'm not in love with you ? someone will take pity on you and give you a free shot . " words tugged at something in the back of her mind . flooded with a sense of deja vu , knowing there was something dancing right on the edge of her thoughts . but rather than pulling at the thread and unraveling the mystery , she pulled him in closer and looked up at him expectantly . " i'm magdalena . " words said quietly at odds with her exuberant tone . spoken like a secret .

[the-faultofdaedalus]

shadowheart is a werewolf you CANT change my mind

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

You're just not toxic enough.

[kyouka-supremacy]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[spookykestrel]

Girl who has only been listening to three bands recently makes an OC

[deus-ex-mona]

ok but. my flamin’ hot take is that hw’s tendency to lock lore/character/relationship info behind a paywall kind of does more harm than good when gen 3 (particularly lxl, hiyori, and chizuchan) is involved