#will definitely have to check this book out

[menagerofmischief]

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

[fuzzythoughtsblog]

I had a fantasy that I went to a best friends sleep over and ended up reading her older sister's diary :

Truth or dare

My friend says to me. I look in her eyes and I know I can't choose truth. She'll will come up with the most vile secert to get out of me.

"Dare !" I spit out in fear

"I dare you to sneak in to my sisters room read her diary and report back. " she says with a smirk.

Fuck me I tell her that , she's so childish. And that were on break from college.

"To bad, you pick dare or are you pussy? " she retorts saying the one thing that would convince me to go.

I'm not scared of her sister. She's only a 6'7 grunge base player who is 3 years older. What there to be scared of? It's not like whenever I'm here she rolls her eyes and slams the door. It's not like she refuses to eat dinner with us. Yeah and she wasn't to scary when she yelled at us after sneaking out to a slutty Halloween party. Fuck she hates me and I'm about to sneak into her room.

I decided to just swallow my fear and go for it besides she's not even home she has a gig.

I creep to the basement where her room is. Slowly the fear begins to still as before I enter her room I see the walls covered in electric guitars. Every color and style I could imagine. I stop to admire all the other equipment she has records, picks, amps and even some Cassettes.

I let out a breathe of relief as open the door to her room and she isn't there. Now all I got to find is that damn book.

I first go to her night stand and begin to peer in. I taking a moment to process what I'm looking a, Lacy lingerie. Upon realizing its contents I quickly shut the drawer. Embarrassed I move on desperate to get this night over with. I look at the bottom drawer and am left starring. Toys so many toys in different shapes and sizes. But what left me shocked wasn't just the various toys. I mean were both adults.

It was the was the paddle. Wooden and bigger that my hand I wondered why she would have something like this. With stupid curiousity I lift it up to examine it. The paddle was in perfect condition, like it had never been used. The thing has hearts cut into it and says in big black bold letters "Scream". I begin to put it back but as I do to other items that it was hiding catch my eye. A pair of metal hand cuffs and a strap harness. I can't help but imagine who she's been using these on. At that thought I quickly put the items back in and close drawer.

If she doesn't hate me, she'll definitely hate me now. I went through her stuff and I hadn't even found the book. I sigh before moving over to the other night stand and open the drawer. This time though jackpot the book was sitting in plain sight. As I pick up the black leather book I curse myself for not looking through this one first.

For a second I hesitate, this is total over step of her boundaries. Besides I could just go back and lie that I read it. I decided that a good idea but as I'm about to put the book back I think about how I could figure out why she hates me. I ponder for a moment but I got to know what I did. I open the book.

It turns out the book is less of a diary and more of a shadow journal. I begin to flip until I find a page about me. The prompt reads " What is your toxic or most obsessive desire? "

Slowly I take in what she writes. "If I had a second alone with my sisters best friend I think I'd devour her. " my eyes stretch wide as I keep reading. "The things I want to do to her body are just ... I want to see her begging and crying under me. I want to punish her for being so damn tempting with those little skirts and short shorts."

I bite my lip but flip through more pages until I see something that mentions me. The prompt "What is a bad financial decisions you've made recently? " I can't help but lean closer while reading. " I was checking in on one of the local sex shops I frequent when I saw a cute little paddle. I couldn't help myself not when I imagine her below me pleading. I imagined pulling her hair and telling her to shut up and asking if she was a good girl. She said "yes daddy" and fuck did that just scratch the right itch in my brain. I told her then she needs to take her punishment like a good girl. Before laying down on her ass while she screamed and cried. Of course I gave my pretty girl kisses after I bit her ass. I have to remind her who she belongs to. And now I want to buy her a collar. "

I'm horrified by what I just read but I couldn't put the book down. I continued on. "What is the most fucked up fantasy you've had recently? " "I imagine her coming to my house and asking for my sister like always but this time I walk her to my sisters room even though she's not home. I lock the door behind her and get really close while she backs up. She looks so cute and she's wearing that tight purple dress she wears. I grab her and begin to kiss her while she pushes me away. I bite her lip and she crys into my mouth while I shove my tongue down her throat. She fights me as I throws her on the bed. But I'm stronger and able to hold her down. She begins to cry as I rip off that stupid fucking dress and kiss down her neck to her perfect tits.

I then slide my hand down to her pretty panties and rub her clit through the lace. She makes a noise and trys to squirm away which cause me to hit her. I tell her to be a good girl and this will all be over soon. She fucking whimpers but stops struggling. I continue to play with her cute clit till she soaks her panties. I whisper "see you want this." Before ripping her panties off of her. And sink a finger in. She's so fucking wet. I slide another finger in and then another. Till I'm three fingers deep. She makes the most beautiful noises while I take her apart on my hand. The more I take her the more wet and docile she becomes. I fuck her like this until she's dripping down her leg and begging me to stop. She pleads so cutely I can't help it. I pull down my pants revealing my biggest strap. Pushing it in while she just lies their limp like a perfect toy. I slam in and out of her taking both her virginities on her best friends bed. By the time I cum she's quivering and her cunt is unrecognizable. I take a picture and drag her to my room leaving her juices on my sisters bed. So the most fucked up fantasy I've ever had is raping my sister's best friend on her bed for hours and its reoccurring. I'd never do it of course I want her to enjoy and consent to it I'm not a monster it's just a fun fantasy. "

I begin to rub my legs together at that last one. I put the book back having had my fill when I see her sister standing right there in the door way causing me to scream.

She looks pissed and close the door and locks it behind her.

"How much did you read? "

"Nothing" I shout frozen to where I stand.

"Bullshit" she says stalking closer

"Just the crush thing and it's okay!" I say as she gets even closer.

"Lier"

"Okay I read the thing about the paddle but that's it!" I wince

She grabs my shoulders and looks at me. A chill run down my back. I flinch.

Squeaking out a "Please, don't!"

She sighs and let's go of me before sitting on the bed.

"You read the fantasy? "

I nodded slowly.

"The rape one. "

I nodded again

She sighs "Fuck, this is not how I wanted you find out! Actually I was hoping you'd never find out! "

She puts her hands on her head.

"Sit down, I'm not going to actually do any of that to you. "

I sit beside her. While she remains still before taking a deep breath in.

"So you read it, why? "

I meekly say "A dare"

"Fuck! It was my sister wasn't it? I'll kill her. "

I stay quite she knows the answer.

She sighs "So what do you want to ask me? And then I'm gonna ask you some questions, okay.

I nod.

" How long?" I ask

She breathes "Since your freshman year, of course I wasn't going to act on it. It's just, I thought I thought of you like another little sister and then I started watching out for you. Which turned into watching you and before I knew it I couldn't look away. "

"Is that why your we're mad at us on Halloween that one year ? "

"Are you kidding me? You were basically wearing lingerie. I mean a skimpy pink bunny suit, I know you were a senior but still what if someone tried something? And on top of all that you guys snuck out! You know I had to hide that from mom and dad so you could stick around. "

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you looked... amazing. Look I don't just like you because of your body, I mean don't get me wrong it's a plus but I also love your laugh. How your the first one to try to help. Even when my sister started doing her project last minute you where there to help. I love the way you melt around animals and your stupid dance. I like you okay. Not just what you have to offer." She says while looking up at me and holding my check.

We're so close. I lean in to close the gap but she pulls away.

"Don't do that, don't give me a pitty kiss! "

I lean forward "I'm not, I just want to try this. "

Our lips finally connect and its like electricity I feel it from my head to the tips of my toes. I shiver we break apart to breathe then begin again. It feels amazing, but not close enough. I crawl closer until I'm sitting on her lap and kiss her while wrapping my arms around her neck. The kiss begins to get more and more dangerous as we go on. Her hand begin to wonder and grip. While I rock into her lap. Soon she breaks the kiss.

"Hey, I don't know if I'm getting mix signals but can I touch you? " she says with her pretty eyes.

I pause for a minute then get a sly idea "Yes, daddy! " I whisper into her ear.

"Fuck " she says before pressing me down to where my back touches her bed. "Who knew you'd be such a damn brat. " she says while kiss down on my neck

I whine as she bites my shoulder. "What's the matter ? You've never been touched like this? "

She lowers her hand down my skirt and begins to rub while I stutter "No, then again no ones touched me. "

She pause "What?"

"You guessed right. "

"Are you sure you want to do this because we don't have to. I can... " I quiet her

"I'm sure , I trust you. In fact I want you to do to me what you wrote about in your little book. Y'know the thing with the paddle. "

"Are you sure that's a little advanced. "

"I'm sure, do you not want to? "

"No I want to, fuck I want to" she says while reaching into the night stand.

"Good, how do you want me, daddy? "

"Fuck your going to be the death of me. Across my lap baby. "

I lay across her lap. And give a wiggle.

"Let's see, how many spanks? Maybe 4 spanks for your 4 years of teasing. Plus 3 for the 3 pages you read. Plus 5 for that slutty fucking costume that had me salivating for weeks. So 12.“

I whine

"Don't whine or I'll make it 15."

I stop.

" That's a good girl. " she says while ruffling my hair.

"Now we're going to use the stop light system, along with a safeword. Do you know how the stop light systems work and have a safeword in mind?"

"Yeah my safeword is rock. And the stop light systems works like red means stop, yellow slow down or change what your doing and green means keep going. "

"Correct, now I'm not going to be upset or disappointed if you safeword or want to stop okay. "

"Okay."

"Good now, count. "

The first hit stings

"One"

The second one burns

"Two"

The third positively aches

"Three"

The rest hurt but for some reason it leaves me feeling dizzy and so good.

"Twelve"

"Good girl are you, okay? "

"Yes."

"Okay how are you, are you okay to continue? "

I nod

"No girl I need a verbal answer what's your color? "

"Green, don't stop I want you to fuck me"

"Fuck, okay baby. " she says before digging in her drawer and strapping into her strap.

I flip around and spread my legs out and put my arms up.

"Wait babygirl, I have to make sure your prepped. " she says as she dips a cloused finger in while I whine

"Fuck baby your soaked. Did my girl like spankings that much? "

I nod

"Poor girls all layed out like a pretty little toy. "

I begin to moan as she adds another finger and begins pumping them in and out with her thumb on my clit. Then she goes fast and pumps in and out harder.

"I know baby it's so much, my fingers are so much for you. " she says while working me harder and harder until fuck... She stops.

"Not yet sweet heart, your gonna cum undone on my cock pretty girl. " she says as she pushes in slowly so slowly.

After bottoming out she waits a minute and I nod. After I nod she thrusts shallow slow thrusts. That feel amazing but leaves me wanting.

After a few minutes of that I grab her shoulders "Daddy, harder!"

"Fuck." She says while rolling her hips.

She lifts my legs up higher to my confusion before slamming in hard. The thrust again and again while I just take it letting her use my body.

"There you go baby. Sorry daddy though you wanted to fucked like a princess. I forgot how much of a slut you are. " she says while still pounding into me

And then she begins to rub my clit. It's so fuck much. Fuck I begin to cry and whine.

"That's it babygirl, cry on daddy's fucking dick" she begins rubbing my clit harder causing me to scream.

"Daddy, I don't want to get pregnant yet. " I say through dazzy tears

"Aww " she says while rubbing and thrust like she was trying to milk more nosies out of me "Don't worry baby you'll look so nice with my kids. "

I feel my body shake and arch and then everything thing goes limp. And my vision goes white. I hear a soft buzzing and for that moment I have no fucking idea what my name is.

"Comeback to me baby" she says my head barley follows her eyes

"Was it good? "

I nod

"Good." She says as she pulls out while I hiss. "It's okay. "

She then lays down beside me and holds me while I begin to come back down.

"You back? "

"Yeah" I say voice horsed

"Okay we'll put cream on you and clean you up later. Okay. "

I nod and cuddle closer

"Okay and baby you can not tell my sister yet. "

[themeraldee]

The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners? 

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news. 

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?” 

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything. 

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures. 

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters. 

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!  

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything. 

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person. 

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat. 

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him. 

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in. 

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose. 

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works. 

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing. 

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display. 

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions. 

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt. 

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table. 

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?” 

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.” 

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?” 

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special. 

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true. 

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite. 

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence. 

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation. 

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk. 

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.” 

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious. 

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes. 

“You don’t think that’s it?” 

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too. 

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine. 

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it. 

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!” 

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival. 

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.” 

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.  

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.” 

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way. 

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is. 

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you. 

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out? 

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?” 

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself. 

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during  your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you. 

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you. 

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort. 

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with. 

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering. 

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day. 

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help. 

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you. 

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint. 

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree. 

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.” 

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks. 

“I love you.” 

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better. 

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy. 

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.” 

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.” 

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked. 

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything. 

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with. 

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.  

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again. 

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you. 

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him. 

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you. 

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air. 

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you. 

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves. 

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears. 

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard. 

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts. 

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.” 

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage. 

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.” 

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls. 

His stomach flips. 

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you. 

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love. 

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on. 

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare. 

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night. 

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does. 

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster. 

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away. 

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart. 

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.  

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife

@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for u-h-h-g-h behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

. . . wait, actually, is he gonna have to start reading biographies and historical stuff? He’s a dad now. The other dads are gonna expect him to know stuff about the Civil War and World War II and, like, lawnmowers and how to grill, aren’t they. His dad didn’t even grill, Mom did! Dad always got distracted by his book or something and let the hot dogs burn! 

Billy is not optimistic about his capacity to mow a lawn, though at least they’re in an apartment. Like–probably somebody handles that, right? That’s gotta be a thing, doesn’t it? 

. . . he should check with Batman about that, maybe. 

. . . . . . and also figure out what the wisdom of Solomon knows about how grilling works. 

Or, uh–work on the focus thing, maybe. Definitely the focus thing. It’s just–it all feels like so much, and Billy doesn’t wanna mess up and wreck Lynn’s whole entire life and make him miserable forever or ever make him feel like any of those foster “families” and social workers ever made him and just about all the other kids he knew in the system feel or– 

Billy wonders if he could maybe find a god to talk to about asking to borrow, like, the forethought of Apollo or the precision of Arachne or the strategy of Ariadne or something sometime (though definitely not the concentration of Atalanta, because one golden apple and he’d be right back where he started). Like if he could maybe swap it out with the stamina of Atlas or the courage of Achilles when he needs to, that’s all. Just when it’s, like, situationally useful or whatever. 

. . . he’s really not doing a good job with this focus thing at all, yeah. Which he’s pretty sure he’s thought a few times now already, too, just–

He’s just really nervous, still. He’s really glad Lynn doesn’t hate him or think he’s lame, but he could still totally do something that’d make Lynn hate him or think he’s lame and–

Focus. 

“Want me to serve?” Billy offers, pointing at the plates. “I mean I know I don’t know how much you need to eat yet, but neither do you, and I’ve seen a lot more people eat than you have, sooo . . .” 

“. . . you’ve seen Superman eat?” Lynn asks, looking–uncomfortable, briefly, and looking down at the plates in his hands. Billy’s gonna have to start finding stuff for him to look at instead of people, he’s pretty sure. Like, little puzzles Lynn can be messing around with or little crafts he can be doing or something, so people just figure that’s why he’s not making eye contact with them and not, like, him being antisocial or something. 

“Oh, yeah, tons of times,” Billy says, since that’s a valid question and all, considering actually the way big majority of the people he’s seen eat were human and Lynn is actually not, so actually that might not be helpful anyway. Superman’s diet would be way more useful to know about. But the problem there is–“But like, I don’t ever really know if he really needs to be eating or if he’s just doing it to be polite? ‘Cuz I do that sometimes, definitely. But also sometimes it’s just ‘cuz something looks good? So yeah, I dunno. I’ll have to ask him when I get a chance, maybe I can catch him after the next League meeting. Or I guess I could email him, I guess that’s a thing . . .” 

He doesn’t really use his League email or messaging accounts or anything like that, like, basically ever, but Batman did give them the phones and all, so he’s not gonna have to go to the library to do it anymore, sooooo . . . 

Lynn doesn’t say anything; just keeps his eyes down and on the plates he’s still holding. Billy tries not to frown. Lynn doesn’t talk much or make eye contact all that much, so far, so it’s not like it’s new. Just–he doesn’t know, really. He’s still got this weird feeling like something’s wrong, all of a sudden. 

[sits-bound]

Bound: A bunch of fics by @cricketnationrise

These two binds were created for the @fandomtrumpshate auction that @cricketnationrise won. (Technically, the first was for the auction, the second was just a bonus.)

Collected Cricklets (aka "Cricket's Ficlets")

This bind is a collection of over 100 ficlets in four collections representing four different fandoms. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to typeset this, it was a fun challenge. Here's what I did:

Each fandom got a different font

The page header (?sider?) had the collection name and fandom name and page number.

The time or date (all fics had a place and a time and/or date) were in a digital clock font.

Each collection opens with a title page foiled in gold (should have been silver, alas.)

I wanted to include the summaries and tags and other metadata for each ficlet, but I didn't want to clutter the pages too much, so I put them in the back as an appendix.

The cover design includes symbols from all of the fandoms (Check Please!, Red, White & Royal Blue, Tortall, and Parasol Protectorate.)

Defining Expectations

I learned how to make a hardcover pamphlet bound book recently, and I decided as a bonus I was going to bind this wonderful fic as one. It's a little long for a single signature bind (27 sheets!), but it worked in the end. I used this tutorial from DAS.

This one was fun for a few reasons. First, there were texts and support tickets and emails and definitions, and I had to figure out how to typeset them all to make them stand out in the text. Then, I decided it should look like a dictionary, so I used faux leather (from Dollar Tree, it's great for binding) and took inspiration from a few dictionaries for the cover and title page.

And, okay, I may have had too much fun with the photo shoot for this one.

Thanks again Cricket for bidding on my auctions! I very much enjoyed putting these together.

[rwrbficrecs]

WIP Wednesday

Your Lipstick, His Collar by @england-would-fall, @taste-thewaste (book-verse)

@na-dineee: It's 2007 (remember flip phones and MySpace?), Alex and Henry both attend Columbia, and they each have their reasons for wanting that distance from their homes. On the surface, Alex is a rowing jock, and Henry’s a punky nerd with a piercing. Beneath, they’re vulnerable, lonely, and quite horny, pining like crazy for each other. The writing is fast-paced and captivating, full of humor, but the angst hits just as hard. Can’t wait to see where this goes!

Too In Love To Die by dandelionclub (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry’s been living with Alex in NYC for two years, but to keep up appearances as a dedicated royal, he's back in England for yet another (honestly pointless) visit. When Henry becomes the target of an attack, Alex does his damn hardest to pick up the pieces... This is a full-on thriller, with gripping storytelling and intense emotions, like wow! Definitely check the tags and take care while reading chapter 3, but it’s a masterpiece on all levels.

grab my hand (don't ever drop it) by @kj-bee (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Have you all read 'The Charm Offensive'? If not, it’s my first rec for you! And can this beautiful story, set in the world of the reality dating show Ever After, be perfectly applied to Alex & Henry? A definite YES from me, and since this author writes so beautifully (so far mostly shorter fics), this one’s bound to be amazing!!

check out our past WIP recs here ❤️

[daydreamofrevi]

𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 - 𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗟 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗕𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗟 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗔𝗖𝗧

► ACT ONE: rascal does not dream of purple hat guy

─ episode one: the famous actor "scaramouche"

previous episode, masterlist, next episode

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You, a teenager with [hair color] and [eye color], stares up at the ceiling of the small room.

"Hey, do you want a kiss?" His voice echoed beside you causing you to turn to him

'I know it wasn't a serious offer. He was clearly messing with me.'

.

.

.

'Wait, who is he?'

.

.

.

You yawned stretching your arms as you opened the curtains of your window. When you went over to leave your bedroom, you noticed a notebook laying there open in your desk.

You look at it confused but picked it up to read the contents inside:

“What is written hereafter is truly something unbelievable, but everything is the truth, so make sure to read until the very end. You have to."

"What the hell is this?" You muttered, but reluctantly read more.

"May 6th. I met a wild hat guy, ___________ ______."

You titled your head. 'Huh? It's blank?'

.

.

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───────────────

MAY 6TH, 2014

───────────────

.

You browsed through the novel section, glancing at each cover before moving onto the next ones. You knelt down and grabbed a book from the bottom of the bookshelves.

You normally didn't visit the local library, not intentionally but whenever you do see it sometimes when you are out, you take the time to check what do they have in store today.

But after getting a bunch of learning books for kids, you decided to check the usual aisles of genres you normally read.

However, as you flipped through the pages of the book you picked, you suddenly perked up at the sight of something totally strange that walked past you.

.

A boy with indigo hair that seems one year older than you walk around with such exquisite yet strange clothing. It was mostly black with red, purple, and gold accessories and accents that helped make him stand out. It definitely didn't look like something an ordinary person would wear, as of today. You didn't know much but it seems like clothing back in old history.

You can't help but find him attractive but what caught your attention was his hat that was more noticeable since it was something people wouldn't usually see them wear. It reminded you of some of the hats you usually see, but you haven't really seen someone wearing it.

You were baffled when that guy with such a nonchalant and calm expression just went around looking like this especially in a library, but what confused you was that nobody seemed to take notice of him.

He seemed to be going around, waving to some at people's faces and even sitting at some working tables and yet no one seemed to see him.

"What the hell?" You muttered. You, who was still in an aisle, walked slightly towards him while rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren't imagining, and he was still there. It confused you even more and questioned how everyone but you were not seeing him.

You snapped out of your own thoughts when your eyes met. He didn't seem to react at first as he made his way towards you and waved his hand in your face.

You stared at his soft hand before looking up and finally muttering. "Uhm, hello?"

He was still calm as ever, but you caught the slight surprise in his eyes. He backed up before saying. "You can still see me?"

You nodded, confused. He stared at you before suddenly walking away without a word.

'The hell?'

Before he could take himself out of the door, you followed him, saying. "Um, you’re Raiden-senpai, aren’t you?"

As he was talking to you earlier, you finally realized who he was. He has forever been the talk in the media so you immediately recognized him and his voice gave it away. But also-

The boy looked back at you. "If you’re calling me “senpai”, it means you go to Hoyoshin High School, right?"

"I'm [Name] [Last Name], a second year."

"I'm Scaramouche Raiden, a third year."

You nodded, muttering. "I know. You’re a celebrity."

"I’ll give you one warning." He said, looking into your eyes deeply. "Forget about what you saw today. Also, I better not hear a word that you saw me in this, and we will remain as strangers."

"If you understand, then say “yes”."

You just gave him a confused stare and that somewhat agitated him, making him let out a scoff but he didn't bother as he turned away and walked out of the library.

.

.

.

'Interesting.' You shrugged before going back to browse.

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───────────────

MAY 7TH, 2014

───────────────

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.

.

Ever since your encounter with the said actor, you couldn't get your mind off of it. Hell, you'd say you couldn't even sleep normally because of it. You even relive that moment by having a dream of him back in the library.

He said to forget but there was no way you could.

You stirred awake as the slight ray of sunshine beamed through your opened window. Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you glance down to notice something adorable that made you smile.

You quietly went out of the bed before grabbing your blanket to tuck your sister in more. But she seemed to awake at the action, making her groan and look up to see you.

"Good morning, Qiqi." You smiled.

"Mm... Morning, [Name]..." She sat up, mimicking your actions of rubbing her eyes.

"You came back to my room last night?"

"I couldn't sleep that well... I came here to sleep better."

You laughed, patting her head. "Well, you are welcome anytime, okay, Qiqi?"

She smiled slightly, nodding.

"Come on, let's go make breakfast together." You helped her out of your bed, carrying her in your arms and walking out of your small bedroom.

.

In Hoyoshin High School, everyone walked up to the campus all together whilst talking and catching up to each other. Even though it was completely packed every time, it's always been like this.

And you usually walk alongside with two of your friends since you normally see them often than most of your other friends who you later see in classes.

"Hey, Albedo?" You started as two of your friends' glance at you, especially the platinum blonde boy. "...If you were to see someone that dresses up like a prince or something magical, what would you do?"

"...Very interesting description, [Name]." He chuckled slightly, confused. "Although, I probably wouldn't do anything."

"Why not?"

"Maybe that person likes to dress up like that."

"They'd just be a psycho then."

"...How about you, Kaeya?" You said, glancing at your other friend.

The blue haired boy shrugged, grinning. "I guess I only just gawk at their outfit, y'know?"

"Hmm, yeah."

Just then, your eyes trailed over and noticed someone familiar, he was walking alone although he did receive glances and stares from the people walking beside him before they quickly went back to talking to their friends.

He was clutching his bag while keeping his head down

"...Hey, you guys see Raiden-senpai there, right?" You asked blankly.

"Mhm." Albedo nodded, glancing to who you were looking at.

"What do you guys know about him?"

Kaeya stared at the back of his head as he replied. "Well, he is a celebrity. But I heard he was on a hiatus."

"Why?"

"Dunno."

The platinum blonde boy glanced at you with a curious gaze. "Are you interested in Scaramouche, [Name]?"

The other friend smirked slightly. "I bet they moved on from y'know who, even though they have no chance."

You shrugged, nonchalantly. "I wasn't going to ask him out anyway, let alone be in love with him."

"Watch it, he might be your future boyfriend, y'know?"

"He's attractive but I doubt it."

Despite that, you look back onto his figure. Even though he's popular around the media, you barely see him with anyone, and he doesn't really interact a lot with your school so you can't tell what kind of person he is.

All you can know from him is that he dresses up fancy in libraries.

.

"I heard from a senpai from my club that apparently Raiden didn’t come to school at the start of his first year." Albedo said, getting out his lunch.

You still ended up being a bit more curious than usual before and luckily you had two amazing friends to tell you more about this purple hat wearing guy and they are just here to report back to you as you three eat lunch.

You titled your head at the info. "Why?"

"Because of work. He declared that he was going on hiatus straight out of middle school, but he was locked into some prior titles, so he was apparently busy. He didn’t seriously go to school until after summer break."

"That's quite rough for him." Kaeya commented whilst eating.

"It is."

You hummed, glancing down before taking a bite out of your sandwich.

'Raiden-senpai, the celebrity who started school midway through the first year, is totally an outsider.'

'Once the class takes its shape, it doesn’t change easily. Others will talk behind your back if you stand out, calling out annoying or a show-off.'

'And once that happens, everyone knows that there’s no going back. That’s the kind of atmosphere a school has.'

'Nobody can approach Raiden-senpai to talk to him.'

'They don’t want to stand out or be isolated. That’s why Raiden-senpai is also reading the situation and pretending to act accordingly.'

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After school and saying quick goodbyes to your friends, you walk down the empty street before reaching the train station. You let out lots of yawns on the way because school was always tiring.

When you reached it to wait for the train, you then noticed him.

Scaramouche was also seemingly here for the train as well, waiting as he stood there with his eyes closed and earphones.

"That’s gotta be Scaramouche Raiden!"

"Huh?"

You glance to see two people, one already with their phone out as their friend stands beside them, their eyes looking behind the back of Scaramouche who still stayed like that calmly.

"See? That’s totally him! I’ll take a pic just in case." The one with the phone grinned while the other laughed in fascination.

They tried zooming in a bit more to get his face since they were facing behind his back. "Come on, look this way a bit more."

You acted quickly and calmly walked over to be in the phone's vision, blocking Scaramouche from it.

Their eyes widen, lowering their phone. "Oh… Huh? Wh-Who the hell are you?"

You stared at them blanky and spoke. "I’m a human. What are you, an ogling photographer?"

"Wha?! Why, you!" They were about to retaliate but their friend stopped them.

"Stop that. Let’s go." They said, tugging at their arm and the two walked away.

As soon as they left and you can barely see their figures, you silently went over beside Scaramouche.

He seems to take note of your presence as he removes his earphones, looking over at you. "Thanks."

"Huh?" Your eyes widen slightly, a bit taken back.

"What? Did you think I’d get mad and tell you to mind your own business?"

"Yes."

"I thought about it, but I’m holding it in."

"Then I wish you didn’t say that, either."

He sighed, looking up ahead. "I’m used to stuff like that."

"Even so, it wears you down inside, doesn’t it?" You mumbled, following his gaze.

"Not like I can do anything about it."

Then Scaramouche picks up his phone to see his manager calling, but he let it ring and not picking it up.

"Are you not going to answer that?" You asked curiously as the train finally arrives and stops in front of you both.

Scaramouche turned off his phone. "The train is here. Besides, I know what that woman wants."

.

You'd never think you would sit next to a famous celebrity on your way to school, but you thought it was honestly fine since he was your upperclassmen. But the thought of sitting next to a celebrity did make you think in many different ways.

You slightly glance at him who had a nonchalant expression as he stared down at his phone. Even though this felt quite awkward, you'd thought his good looks made up for it.

"About that thing yesterday…" You started a topic as a conversation, but he quickly cut you off.

"I warned you to forget about it, didn’t I?"

"That outfit was too majestic to forget."

"Don't tell me you started to get erotic thoughts about me in that outfit."

"And if I was?"

He shrugged, glancing down at you. "Well, I'm totally fine with it."

You look up and meet his eyes. "Really?"

"Only if they are younger people."

"What if I was an old geezer?"

"Then die."

"Gladly."

Scaramouche scrolled something through his phone as he changed the topic. "Hey, [Last Name]."

"You remembered my name." You muttered with slight joy.

He ignored your comment as he continued. "I saw the rumors about you, something about a violent incident where you sent three classmates to the hospital."

"I’m honored that you’d take an interest in me."

"It’s really amazing, all this information about one individual being out in the open like this."

He opened and showed his phone out to you making you lean forward to read it yourself.

.

1) [Name] [Last Name] - Sent 3 Classmates To The Hospital After A Violent Incident in Middle School. They moved outta Liyue - where'd they go?

2) What's this Hospitalization Incident?

3) So scary lolol

.

You hummed, but didn't really react much. "I didn’t know it was written about to this extent, though."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don’t look it up yourself?"

"I don't have a smartphone." You said, leaning back on your seat.

Scaramouche stared at you, eyes widening slightly. "Really?"

You crossed your arms. "I used to, but I got frustrated and tossed it into the ocean."

He stared at you with slight bewilderment and a bit of annoyance. "At least throw trash in trash cans." He sighed, looking out of the train's window before speaking again.

"You don’t have any friends, do you?"

"I do. I have three, even."

He gazed back at you again. "Can you say “even” with just three?"

You shrugged. "They came to me first. I appreciate it, really. But if no one else wants to be my friend, then I don't mind at all."

"So, you basically don't socialize?"

"Not really. It's too much of a hassle. All I can do is really just make my friends my friends for the rest of my life."

"Well, good luck with that, I suppose." You then turned to him, your expression remaining blank but has a hint of curiousness. "So, what did you think about the hospitalization incident rumors?"

He hummed, thinking before responding. "It’s pretty clear after some thought. Someone who caused such a huge incident couldn’t attend school like nothing happened."

"I wish my class could hear that."

"If it’s wrong, then you need to tell them as such."

"A rumor is kind of like the atmosphere, isn’t it? Lately, the atmosphere is something you need to read. That “atmosphere” labels you as a bad person if you can’t read it. And the people creating that atmosphere don’t have a sense of participation, so it’s foolish to try and fight against the atmosphere."

"So you’re leaving misunderstandings be and giving up before even fighting."

You nodded and he stayed silent after that. He was seemingly trying to process your perception since he couldn't help but agree with it.

You couldn't contain yourself and asked again, glancing over.

"Your turn to talk, Senpai. What was all that about yesterday?"

"Didn't I say to forget this?"

"I want answers."

"You won't stop asking until I tell you, will you?"

"Yes."

He sighed, looking down at his lap for a bit. You feel like you'll hear a lot more about his thoughts through a long story but you were ready to listen to it.

"I made my debut when I was six years old."

"After getting the lead role for the morning drama series, I was always in the public eye with television, movies, and commercials."

"There wasn’t a day when I didn’t see Scaramouche Raiden on TV." You commented.

He nodded, continuing. "It was fun in the beginning, but it gradually became more stressful. People would notice and say “that’s Scaramouche Raiden” everywhere I went…"

He said as the train finally came up to your guys' stop, you both sat up and walked out of it but Scaramouche continued while you listened beside him.

"… and at some point, I started wishing that I could go to a world where nobody knew who I was."

"I first noticed that people weren’t able to see me at the beginning of a four-day weekend."

"On a whim, I went to the aquarium."

"Alone?" You asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that bad?"

.

The boy was lucky nobody seemed to recognize him since that would've caused chaos a bit and that allowed Scaramouche to walk around the aquarium freely.

But he yelped, bumping into someone's shoulder. He looked behind to see that person talking to someone and not even sparing a glance at him.

He thought a bit rude, of course.

And when walking around a few moments later, he moved out of the way for someone when they were about to bump but they didn't seem to acknowledge him either and just continued on.

He looked around, bewildered and off-guard.

.

"I thought it was just me at first since they were focused on viewing the fish."

"But when I stopped in a cafe on my way home…"

.

"Uh, excuse me?"

He entered the cafe and quickly going over to a waiter who was cleaning up a table yet he didn't see to hear him as he was still cleaning.

Scaramouche thought he didn't hear him so he spoke a bit louder. "Excuse me..."

Just then, the cafe's door opened with the bell ringing causing the waiter to turn to the door, welcoming in another customer with a smile. "Welcome."

Scaramouche was literally in between the two and it was like he wasn't there at all, making him more shock than ever.

.

"Was it a shop where you did something so terrible that they banned your patronage?" You asked, standing beside Scaramouche as he opens a locker in the train station.

"Of course not." He muttered.

You glance down and noticed something interesting. "Senpai, your foot…"

"Is something wrong with my foot?" He said, slightly pressing his shoe more on your own foot.

"No, I’m ecstatic that you’re stepping me."

"How thoughtful." Scaramouche snickered, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, I quickly left the cafe and went home, but after returning to back, everyone saw me normally."

"So I went around, seeing if something similar would happen in other places." He closed the locker to pull out the bag containing the fancy purple and black outfit you saw him once yesterday in the library.

You hummed, realizing. "So that’s why you were dressed like that."

He looked back at you, smirking slightly. "Looking like this, people would stare if they saw me, right?"

"True, I did gawk at your outfit, especially your hat."

"And not my face?"

"Well, your face was the best part." You went up to follow and catch up to him. "So you’re going out as a wild hat guy again today?"

"That's a dumb name but I'll take it. And, yes I will so don't get in my way."

Scaramouche stopped by a small stall inside with you watching from behind.

"One dark chocolate bun, please." The lady running didn't respond at all, only just fixing up the money in the cash register.

He frowned, a bit frustrated, slightly raising his voice. "Excuse me. One dark chocolate bun, please."

No response which made him silent, looking down.

You stared at him before asking loudly. "Excuse me. One dark chocolate bun."

The cashier looked up, responding to you with a kind smile. "Okay. Just one?"

"Mhm." You nodded. As the cashier worked on the order, you glance at Scaramouche with slight pity. Seeing that he's slowly becoming invisible to everyone was concerning.

He met your gaze before looking away.

.

"Aren’t you at all troubled by this?" You frowned as you both walked out of the train station together.

Scaramouche held and looked down the bun you bought for him in his hand. "Yeah. Not being able to eat dark chocolate buns here is a problem."

"But do you actually believe this insane story of mine?"

"I know what stories like this are called."

You glanced at him, muttering. "It’s “Adolescence Syndrome”, right?"

He stopped momentarily before turning to you with a firm gaze.

.

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───────────────

ADOLESCENCE SYNDROME:

Abnormal Experiences During Adolescence Due To Sensitivity And Instability

───────────────

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"Adolescence Syndrome, huh… "

You both walked together on an almost empty street together as the sun was setting down. You'd never thought you would let a celebrity as famous as him let you walk you back home.

You recounted back at what you know. "Hearing other people’s thoughts or seeing another person’s future or swapping bodies with someone else… Rumors of that nature started being called Adolescence Syndrome, though nobody knows who coined the term."

"That’s just an urban legend." Scaramouche scoffed before looking up to where you both stopped at. "Hm? What’s this?"

"My apartment."

Seeing the slight skeptical look, he was giving you, you responded quickly. "I won’t do anything to you. There’s something I’d like to show you so you’ll believe me when I say that I believe you."

.

You opened the door and allowing him to step inside first before you closed the door behind.

He glanced around, seeing the tiny living room and the small dining table in the corner and the only separate room was the kitchen was just as cramped as everything around.

He didn't want to press and question anything so he went up and follow you to your room.

Scaramouche glanced around, crossing his arms while humming. "Hmm… You keep it rather clean."

"Senpai, you-"

He cut you off, slightly annoyed. "Stop with that “Senpai” thing. I don’t recall ever becoming your senpai."

You titled your head. "Then Raiden-san?"

"I don't really prefer the '-san' a lot. Besides, I'm not really a big fan of my last name."

"Then Scaramouche?"

"My name is a big too long."

"Then how about I shorten it? Scara?"

"Hmm, that works I guess." He looked around the room again as he said. "I'm not really liking [Last Name] so I'll just call you [Name]."

Scaramouche then looked back before gasping and blushing at you suddenly removing the top of your school uniform and you did it with a nonchalant expression like you didn't even care at all.

"Wh-Why are you stripping?! You said you weren’t going to do anything!" He blushed madly, glaring before looking away. "You're Filthy! Perverted! Exhibitionist!"

You throw away your shirt to reveal your chest having three giant claw marks across. It's a permanent scar since it was dried and not bleeding on your chest. (a/n: for females- your wearing a bra in this and for males- you aren't, okay? lol)

Scaramouche looked down in slight shocked, frowning. "Ah… That’s real, isn’t it?"

"You think there are idiots who’d wear special make-up like this?" You muttered.

He approached you warily, a bit concerned. "Can I touch it?"

"Go ahead." You shrugged.

Reluctantly, he only touched the scar a bit carefully but that touch caused you let out a noise.

"Ooh."

"Don't make any weird noises." He glared up at you.

You mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. "It’s a bit sensitive there, so please be gentle."

He hummed, trailing his finger down slightly. "Like this?"

You let out a small blush. "Ah… That feels really good."

Then that blush faded away when Scaramouche pinched your stomach caused you yelp and scream out of pain.

"Gah… Ow! Let go!"

"You just seem to be enjoying this." He stared at you in annoyance before releasing. "Well? How'd you get those scars?"

You rubbed your stomach as you shrugged. "Actually, I’m not really sure."

You pulled something from your desk's drawer and showed it to Scaramouche.

He took it before his eyes widening slightly at the picture.

A small girl with purple hair sat on a chair as there were small different cuts all over her body of arms, legs, and face.

"That's is my little sister Qiqi. She wasn’t assaulted or anything, just bullied on the internet."

"I don’t get what you’re trying to say." He muttered.

"There was something about not replying to a message… A girl who was the leader of her class started hating her, and people wrote all sorts of insults in social media groups. And then, one day…"

.

"Welcome home, Qiqi." You smiled at her before going back to play your video games.

"[Name]..." She muttered weakly.

"Hm? What's wrong-" You gasped, exclaiming.

Small bloody cuts appeared suddenly formed and appeared all over her face, arms and legs making you shocked.

You were confused at how cuts formed everywhere all at once, it was something completely phenomenal.

"Qiqi!"

.

You frowned, remembering that memory. "This is why I believe Adolescence Syndrome really exists."

Scaramouche look up solemnly before his eyes trailed over. "Then is your wound from back then, too?"

You nodded. "I have no idea how or why. I awoke one morning covered in blood and was hospitalized."

"Ah… Is that the truth behind the hospitalization incident?"

"Yeah, I was the one sent to the hospital."

Suddenly, your bedroom door opened, and you both turned to see Qiqi peaked over cautiously as she nervously opened the door.

"[Name]...?" She muttered before her eyes darted over to Scaramouche who was sitting on your bed. She seemingly flinched at the sight of a stranger

You smiled, reassuringly. "Don't worry, Qiqi. He's a senpai from my school."

He nodded to the little girl. "I'm Scaramouche Raiden, nice to meet you."

She stared at him in slight fascination before she muttered something under her breath.

You leaned forward, smiling. "She says her name is Qiqi [Last Name]."

Then you noticed your cat entered the doorway with Qiqi muttering also about her

You turned back to Scaramouche. "And she says this is our cat, Xue."

"Hmm, thank you for telling me." Scaramouche glanced at her.

Qiqi nodded silently before walking off back to her own room.

You chuckled slightly and turned back to the indigo-haired boy. "Sorry about that. She’s very nervous towards strangers. Nowadays, she loves the house so much, she doesn’t even go to school anymore."

"So she doesn’t know about me?" He asked.

"That’s because she doesn’t watch much TV. For Qiqi, distancing herself from the internet subsided her symptoms from Adolescence Syndrome. That’s why I threw my smartphone into the ocean."

He stared at you, looking back down on his lap before muttering. "So you’re saying my case bears similarity to this?"

"I mean, you’re reacting to the atmosphere at school perfectly. So to avoid making the situation any worse, it’s better for you to return to show business."

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, staring at you in slight confusion. "Why’s that?"

"If you stand out a lot on TV, everyone else won’t leave you alone, even if you play the role of the atmosphere. Besides, you seem to want to return yourself."

"When did I ever say such a thing?"

"Well, that depends on you. I think you should do what you want. You have the skill and experience and even a manager who eagerly awaits your --"

"She has nothing to do with this." He scoffed, standing up. "Mind your business."

He grabbed his bag, leaving your bedroom with you trailing behind him. "I'm going home."

As he was about to walk out of the door of your apartment, you waved slightly at him with a blank look. "Bye, Scara."

The boy stared at you before giving you a slight glare which made you confused as he left.

'...I think I said something I shouldn't have said. Sorry.' You sighed, going back to your own room.

.

.

.

.

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'And ever since then, Scaramouche hasn't shown up at school.'

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"Hey, Albedo, do you know why Scaramouche Raiden said he was going on hiatus?" You turned to him who was just drinking.

"To the public, I think it was to focus on her studies." He muttered at your question.

You and Albedo worked together as waiters in the same part time job after school at a small restaurant that wasn't too far away from your high school.

Your friend worked here as to earn a little bit of extra money while you were doing the job to provide for yourself and Qiqi.

And currently, you two were on a break until the manager came in, looking for you specifically. "[Last Name], the news anchor is here again."

You looked at him in slight confusion but went out of the break room before you realized and remember who the manager was referring to.

You approached her with your notepad in hand. "Welcome."

She beamed, smiling. "Hi, [Name]! It's nice to meet you."

"You too, Charlotte. Do you want anything to order?"

"Hmm, I'll take a small chocolate cake."

"Got it." As you wrote her order down, the pink haired girl looked up before saying.

"Hey, [Name]?"

You gazed up at her. "Yes?"

"I apologize for some of the member of the Steambird's persistence in regard to your incident of your scar." She sighed. "I understand of wanting to get scoop like me but I wouldn't dare if that person isn't comfortable at all."

"Thank you, Charlotte. It's no problem at all." You smiled slightly before it turned to a frown as you look up at her. "Hey, Charlotte? Would you know the reason why Scaramouche Raiden went on a hiatus?"

Charlotte eyes widen slightly before laughing. "Well, I might know some info that isn't released to the public."

You looked up at her, curiously.

.

.

.

"Hey, [Name]? I heard you've taken a interest in Raiden-senpai lately. What's up with that?" A girl with green hair spoke curiously as she mixed the cup of coffee. "I thought you wouldn't get over him."

You laughed slightly with a sigh. "Why is that Kaeya, Albedo, and you also think like that?"

Sucrose smiled, sliding over a bottle. "Here, add sugar if you would like."

"Is that safe?" You raise an eyebrow.

"It’s probably sugar inside. I mean, it’s white." She then focused back on her beaker. "So what did you want to ask me?"

You hummed. "Hmm, Sucrose… Do you think it's possible that people can suddenly stop seeing others?"

"Is something wrong with your vision? I think an optometrist is a better choice."

"That's not it. I mean not seeing someone who's right there, like an invisible person."

"What will you use it for?"

"Nothing. I'm not into scat."

Sucrose hummed, looking down as she stirs her coffee. "If you’re referring to Adolescence Syndrome, you know I'm really against that concept."

"Right? It's not logical at all." You nodded. "That's why I want a logical explanation from you. For instance, I’m sitting right in front of you, Sucrose. Is it logically possible for me to become invisible to you?"

She stared before replying. "Yes, if I were engrossed in something or just spacing out. The human brain can filter out things you don't want to see, too."

"That’s true. But if it isn’t something like that…"

"There is also the observation theory."

"Observation theory?"

Sucrose sat up straight, looking at you. "The theory that the existence of something is confirmed only when it is observed."

"Surely you’ve at least heard about the cat in the box, right?"

"Hm?" You gasped slightly. "Oh right, that was..."

She muttered. "… Schrodinger’s Cat."

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'When Scara was still available acting, he certainly did exist. And he was observed by everyone around him.'

As you exited the train after coming back from school, you stopped by and went over to the same small stall that was selling different kinds of food and treats.

You stopped in front of it. "Excuse me? One dark chocolate bun, please."

"Okay, coming up." The cashier nodded, going over to prepare for it.

As you watched her, you asked curiously. "Hey, do you know of an actor named Scaramouche Raiden?"

She looked up, confused. "Hm? Who?"

"Y'know, the child actor who got became famous in that morning drama."

"Ah, sorry, I don't know of an actor by that name."

You hid the slight disappointment as you shook your head. "Oh, it's okay." You smiled, quickly paying before swiftly leaving the train station.

.

'The fact that people no longer remember him means not only that people cannot see him but also that his existence in itself…'

As you gasped at that thought, you picked up your walking pace to quickly rush back to your apartment complex.

Your mind was thinking of possibilities that you might end up...

When you went to the floor, you panted, and your eyes widen in surprise as you saw someone you didn't expect.

Scaramouche looked up, hugging his knees to his chest as he sat by the door of your apartment. He frowned, slightly glaring. "Took you long enough."

You sighed in relief before you smirked slightly, approaching him. "Did you want to see me that bad?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not at all." Then his stomach growled causing him to clutch his stomach, looking away.

"You’re starving, huh?"

"Shut up, you suck."

"I'm more or less aware. Did you not eat anything?" You slid down to the floor beside him, sitting down in the same position.

His expression turned grim as he muttered. "...I can't buy anything. Over the past two weeks, I've become invisible to more and more people. No one in the train station can see me anymore."

"Hmm, luckily, I came prepared." You smiled, handing him the bag that contained the dark chocolate bun treat. "You want this?"

Scaramouche reluctantly took it from you before glancing at you. You gave him a soft smile in which he looked away, but you can tell there was slight gratitude in his eyes as he opens the bag and opens the bun to take a bite, finally starting to fill up a bit of his hunger.

.

'May 6th. I met a wild hat guy.'

'This was the beginning. This is how we met. There’s no way I can forget.'

'You must remember, even if you forget.'

I'm counting on you, future me.'

.

─ episode one: the famous actor "scaramouche"

previous episode, masterlist, next episode

[darkfantasysworld]

F!reader x M!cecaelia (half human, half octopus) PT. 2!

This takes place 47 days after the previous part.

It has been 47 days. You were stuck with this man for 47 days. He was surprisingly sweet while you were incubating his eggs, he did everything for you besides letting you go, of course. You were walking around the cave which he'd made into a home long before he kidnapped you, it had a bed you shared and some other furniture… well- moreso makeshift furniture from items he gathered on walks. You surprisingly enjoyed the cave, all the shells and pearls he'd gathered for you were on display, he built a little shelving area for them, he even went into town and bought you books, clothes, everything you could possibly need or ask for. He even told you his name, Tako.

As you walked around the cave your water suddenly broke and you felt a sudden pain which made you yelp. Tako immediately ran over to you and held you. "It's time." He said and picked you up, he brought you over to a small, shallow pool of water and carefully set you in the cold water. You whined as you felt another contraction, you didn't actually know what he'd do with you after the eggs were ready to come out. He'd never talked about what he'd do with you, if he'd let you go or if he'd keep you. Tako gently spread your legs and checked how dilated you were, he gently kissed your cheek. "You're doing so well, darling." He said, using one of his sucker tentacles to stimulate your clit to make the experience pleasurable for you. You moaned and pulled him into a kiss, mumbling something about loving him.

You came as a bad contraction hit and Tako checked how dilated you were again. You'd been like this for a while now, you lost count of how many times you came by this point, your brain was foggy from pleasure. "Darling, you have to push now, can you be a good girl and push for me?" Tako asked, his hand holding yours. You nodded and pushed, it hurt and made you squeeze Tako's hand. You felt some of the eggs crown but Tako put his other hand down there as you pushed, blocking the eggs inside of you. You tried to push more but that only built up more pressure and pushed more eggs down that couldn't escape. Tako's tentacle was still sucking your clit and the mix of the two feelings confused you but before you even realized it, you came again. Tako looked pleased and moved his hand away, letting the eggs spill out of you, they were all slimy and you could see your cum on some of them. You let out a sigh of relief as the eggs spilled out and into the pool. "Now they just have to hatch, you did so well." Tako said and kissed your head, his tentacle that had been sucking your clit was moved away as he held you close, his fingers gently tangled in your hair.

I could turn this into a little series if y'all want. Tako's definitely easy to make jealous if you want a post where reader does that and gets a punishment, just an idea.

[hirik0]

Match my freak

PervNik/PervPrice | non Military AU | pervert old man yoai | NSFW

Warning: nonconsenting voyeurism turning consenting, crime as plot devise

When Nik became a hacker never thought he would not only use it for money but also to satisfy his most perverted sexual fantasies. But well people have Web cams and watch porn on pcs sometimes even have their cam point at their beds so why shouldn't he watch them jerking of or fucking a partner? Hell, some even do even jerk of in at their work desk. He usually blacks mail the workplace ones, because free entertainment and money, he would be stupid to pass at the opportunity. He looks who opened his fishing e-mail and who if them has a Web cam he can use for his own goals. The first 5 show an empty workspace, the next three are children and then finally finds a guy around his age browsing a porn site, clearly looking for something to watch. It's an attractive guy with well-groomed beard and hair, wearing bit more expensive clothes in what Nik assumes is a home office. Nik looks at the bookshelf trying to get clues about the guy’s job, seeing some finance and economy related books. He checks the mail linked to the fishing mail a British lawyer that clearly is into some kinky stuff.

'She takes the whole camp site, camping sex adventure' is the title of what Price is choosing. Nik starts to record the hacked screen and the webcam footage.

Price opens his pants; he just finished the last meeting of the day. He needs release some stress, he usually would not do it in his home office, but he simply doesn’t want to move to his bedroom watching on his small phone today. He needed some time to find something he finds interesting, but he finally is opening his belt and fly, putting both hands on the arm rest for now. He starts to rub over his still clothed dick when the actress is starting to finger herself, spreading his legs a bit rolling the chair backwards. Pulling his dick out when it's fully hard, licking his palm before he starts to slowly jerk off.

Nik is fully fixated on the man's dick the slight curve it has, how long it is and the thickness, would be nice to ride. He starts to rub over his own dick keeping it in the sweatpants for now, it's nothing to exited happening at the moment. The first pearls of precum are leaking out of Price dick and Nik is finally pulling out his own, staring at the flesh light he has prepared, but honestly, he will keep that for a more entertaining victim. Price is smearing the pre cum over his tip and Nik does the same. They jerk off in tandem for a while and Nik thinks about looking for a better victim, because he's getting bored. Price clearly only like to watch kinky stuff and was not kinky himself. He accidentally rewinds the video to the woman is getting her face covered with cum again. Looks like his time with Price is over now anyway.

Price stops did the site glitch for a moment. He then notices the small notification he has sat up to tell him his Web cam is running he sometimes forgets to turn it off or his cats accidentally turn it on when walking over the keyboard. He definitely turned it off, he even closed the program they use for video calls. His heart rate picks up, got his cam hacked? He feels his dick throb at this thought, shit that's so hot, well if the hacker is watching what he hopes he will give them a show. Also potentially getting black mailed, something he loves to use in role-playing with his partners. He shorty let's his dick go for a moment before he pulls his pants and boxers fully down, rolling the chair so far back the back rest is hitting the bookshelf. Spreading his legs as far as possible before he starts to stroke himself again using the free hand to open the buttons of his dress shirt.

Niks eyes are glued to the screen, oh fuck what is happening? Price clearly noticed something but why is he? When the dress shirt is fully open the hand is dropping on the arm rest again and Price is now looking directly into the camera grinning no smirking at him before the winks, the man knows and keeps going? Nik has to squeeze the root of his own dick because well that's fucking hot. He reaches for the toy he prepared without thought, he's getting a fucking show, and it would be a waste to not use it. He removes his eyes from the dick that's still stroking in the same lazy speed to make sure he can enjoy what he's watching. He looks up the hairy chest and Price is clearly still looking in the cam and not at the screen anymore. The look on his face is screaming watch me and Nik does. Price starts to play with his nipples after a while, twisting them from time to time, moaning whenever he does so.

Price starts to pick up the speed of his strokes, twisting his wrist every time he stokes down, spreading the pre cum over his full length. Trying to make it look good for his viewer, asking himself if they are touching themselves while watching, he hopes so. He trusts into his hand at the thought, he needs to go into the club again getting fucked bent over a table for everyone to see again, maybe even be the glory hole for a while. The hand is sliding down from his torso before the starts to play with his balls. Shit some of the club rooms are streamed oi the club’s website he could invite the hacker to watch him getting railed over and over again. He throws that thought away as quickly as it come up in his brain. He definitely will invite the hacker to watch again if they want too. He will give an even better show next time, he nearly comes at the thought if a next time.

Nik trust into the toy, moaning, already feeling the sensation in his lower spine of the building orgasm. Moaning from time to time while watching the man jerking off for him. For some reason this is even hotter as when they don't know. Price starts to trust faster into his hand while his other hand is still playing with his balls and Nik starts to copy the movement with his own. Suddenly Price mouth is dropping open, and he closes his eyes before robes of cum are covering his whole torso and hand. The man keeps playing with his balls one splash of cum is even landing in his beard. Nik stars mesmerized at it forgetting his own pleasure fully when Price is lifting his cum covered hand, licking it clean again focused on the cam, the way he licks over his fingers is obscene. Nik comes when the other man is starting to suck his fingers. If he didn’t use the toy who knows what he would cover with cum. He's panting heavily gasping when he hears the pop as Price is pulling his fingers out of his mouth. He waves in the camera with the freshly cleaned hand before the kicks Nik out of the cam.

"What the fuck" Nik is saying into the room before he stops the recording. He doesn’t even know how long he's staring at the screen trying to make sense out of what just happened. One of his victims gave him a fucking show, what does he still tries to black mail him? Does he delete the recording? He finally pulls the toy off his dick, puts it with the opening up on the table, before he pulls out one empty USP stick and moves the video on there. He will keep this to watch again later. Then again can he even black mail Price, well not like the guy will go to the police after giving him a show. His e-mail program is blinking with details about a job, he can do this first before he figures the situation with Price out.

Price is waiting for the black mail it's Sunday evening and he's in bed petting the cat that's curled up on him when it finally is appearing. He doesn’t even read it before answering it.

Please sent the video to me, also if you’re interested in more Saturday at 3 pm my time zone.

Is that what he should do? No, but it's way more fun than to just ignoring the mail or going to the police.

Niks mouth drops open when he sees the answer Price sent him.

"What the fuck" He gasps into the room, because what prosecution lawyer would even do this? He also will turn in Saturday because he would be stupid if not, he finally found somebody that's matching his sexual freak.

[the---hermit]

26|09|2024

Today I started working on a geography chapter that I know is going to be the end of me. There's so much information, no maps, and I have no idea how I will undertand and memorize that for my exam. Definitely not the easiest way to start studying for this exam. I really hope the next chapters will be more history focused, so that with more context and informations I can actually learn this stuff. I will start writing down notes for this chapter tomorrow since only reading and underling took most of my morning. Aside from my academic reading I started A House With Good Bones by T. Kingfisher, because apparently I am obsessed with this author. I also did some planning to figure out the best days to meet up with a couple of friends, and I think I managed to find a good plan in order to enjoy myself but not get too drained. The thing is that since I have been all over the place emotionally in the past while, speding time with others becomes very draining even when I am enjoying myself. Hopefully I will manage to spend quality time with friends without losing all my energies.

productivity list:

read first thing in the morning

read and highlighted a chapter of my history of Sabaudian sates book

set up my bullet journal for next month

got a dentist appointment to get a check up by another dentist so then hipefully I can get rid of the wisdom tooth that has been botherming me for ages

duolingo

worked on my crochet project

📖: A House With Good Bones by T. Kingfisher

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 32

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Monday)

Masterlist

“And if you run out of nappies, there is a box in the storage room. And he has to have Mr. Poo with him when he is sleeping, even during naps. And if he can't sleep he usually calms down if you sing to him “Freed from desire” because Declan sings him football songs and for whatever the reason that calms him down. And if he…”

“Liv… Liv, Olivia” Declan's mum says, stopping my rambling. “I know what to do. I've raised three boys and a few grandchildren, remember?” she chuckles.

“Yes, sorry. I'm sorry. I just… you know.”

“It's the first time you are gonna be away from Oliver since he was born.”

“Yes” I sigh.

It's been three months since I gave birth. Three of the most exhausting, daunting but also wonderful months of my life, full of sleepless nights and tears, but also many laughs, cute moments, and my phone saying I'm running out of memory due to all the videos and photos I've taken of Ollie. I've even had to make different folders so everything is a bit organized.

There are a couple just for photos and videos of him, one for all the content with my mum, with Declan's parents, with his nephews, with Madders and Kennedy, with their kids, with Olga… And of course, there is one only for Declan. After the ones all for Ollie, his has to be the one that has the most content.

But I just can't help myself. Seeing him being a dad is… I don't know how to explain it. It's like it makes me fall in love with him even more than I already am, sometimes making me feel like my heart is about to burst from all the love it has for him and Ollie. Other times tho, it makes me think of what I overheard him and his mum talk about. About the fact that he told her that he was in love with me.

More than once I've wanted to ask him about it, if what I heard was true or if it was my mind playing games with me because I was about to bring a human being to the world and everything inside me was a chaos. But I've never managed to do it, I've  always gotten cold feet. Though that may be about to change.

He has booked us a couple of days away at the same place where we stayed for our babymoon with the excuse that I deserve to relax, have a good night of sleep, and just think about myself for a bit (easier said than done). And since that was the place where we were supposed to talk about our feelings and what the kisses we shared meant, this may be the right moment to do it. To stop being a coward and tell him what I feel, to say the three words.

“Ok, our bags are in the car. Are you ready?” Declan asks, joining me and his mum.

“She's ready” she says.

“Can't I check on Ollie again? Just to be sure he is…”

“Liv, the little man is asleep, he's ok. And you already said goodbye to him like five times” Declan chuckles.

“Six. She went back to this room while you were away.”

“Really?”

“I'm sorry, I just… I can't help it” I shrug.

“He's gonna be fine, Liv. I have everything under control, and tomorrow your mum is coming over too. He's gonna get all the attention and cuddles in the world” she smiles.

“Can I give him a last one?”

“Declan, take her out of here, please” his mum laughs, pushing me towards him. “I don't want to hear from any of you in two days, understood?”

“I'll try my best to keep us, and especially her, entertained” he smirks, putting an arm around my waist and making my stomach do a flip inside me. 

“Yeah, well, umm… Can't I see him one last time, then?”

“No” Declan's mum says, definitely using the same tone she has had to use plenty of times with her sons. “And now go or you'll be stuck in traffic for hours” she says, moving her hands in the air and basically kicking us out of the house.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Have I ever told you that this is the best chocolate cake ever?”

“Every single time you've eaten it since that first time” Declan laughs.

“It feels like it happened in another lifetime” I sigh.

“It does, doesn't it?” he says, finally managing to open the champagne bottle he had on his hands. It is our last night away, and to celebrate, he ordered some of that chocolate cake I love so much and some champagne. “If we went back in time and told that Liv and that Declan that two years later they are parents to the most amazing little boy, they would not believe us.”

“Nope” I chuckle. “And thank you” I say when he gives me a flute with some champagne.

“You're welcome” he smiles. “So, what should we toast to?”

“I don't know… Maybe to that amazing little boy you just mentioned?”

“You have not stop thinking about him, have you?” Declan laughs.

“Have you?”

“I have not, no” he smiles. “And how could I when I have you reminding me of him all the time? Each day he looks more like you, Liv.”

“But with your eyes.” Because my wish had come true, and he had gotten his eyes. Those blue eyes I have not been able to stop thinking about since the first time they looked at me, eyes that make me feel things no one had been able to before. 

“To Ollie?” he says, raising his flute.

“To Ollie” I reply, doing the same.

“And, since we are toasting and celebrating… I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Yep” he says, giving me a small box. 

“Declan, I… You didn't have to get me anything. You've done enough already with this trip and everything else since I moved in with you.”

“What I've done is the bare minimum, Liv. And this is just a little something. Open it.”

“Ok” I say, my hands shaking a bit. Why am I nervous? “Oh…”

“Do you like it? I've seen you wearing both rings and necklaces and I didn't know what you liked best, so I just picked one of each.”

“I love it, Declan” I say, trying really hard to not start crying. He had gotten me a ring with Oliver engraved on it and a matching necklace with an O and a little stone hanging next to it. “Is this a real ruby?”

“It is. That's Ollie's birthstone, isn't it?”

“Yes, but… wow. I… I don't know what to say.”

“Just knowing that you love it is enough” he smiles.

“Thank you, Declan” I say, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him. 

“You're welcome, Liv” he replies, hugging me back. We stay like that for a while, just hugging and not saying a word, until a bird makes us both jump.

“What the fuck was that? A dinosaur?”

“I don't know” I laugh. “But it was loud.”

“So loud…” he chuckles. “Anyway, do you want me to help you put on the necklace?”

“Please” I say, giving it to him while putting on the ring. It fits perfectly. “How did you think of this?” I ask him to try and focus on something that isn't the way his fingers feel on my skin.

“Aaron told me that he had bought Georgina a pushing ring, and I thought I could do the same.”

“A what?”

“It apparently is a thing people do to congratulate their partners after giving birth” he shrugs.

“I had never heard of it before.”

“Neither had I. And done. How does it feel?”

“Perfect” I say, turning around to face him. “Thank you, Declan. Again.”

“That's ok” he smiles. And once again, I find myself focusing on his mouth. On his lips. On how much I want to kiss him and… “Don't do it, Liv.”

“Uh?”

“Kiss me. Don't do it.”

“I wasn't going to kiss you” I say with a nervous laugh, my face already burning. Fuck.

“But you were thinking about it, weren't you?” he smirks.

“No.”

“Sure” he says, his smirk turning into a grin.

“Ok, fine. What if I was, uh? Is there any problem with that?”

“Yes and no.”

“What?” 

“No, because I also want to kiss you, and yes, because we can't do it until we have had that conversation we were supposed to have months ago.”

“Oh, that… yes” I say, focusing on my hands. “I've wanted to talk about that too for a while but never found the moment.”

“Well, this is it. And even though the chivalrous thing to do would be to let you speak first, I can't, Liv. I must be the one explaining everything first because I am the one who behaved like a dick and the one who broke your heart.”

“Declan, you didn't…”

“C'mon, Liv” he says with a sad laugh. “You know I did and that I hurt you. I hurt you really really bad.”

“I… You did, yes” I whisper.

“I hurt you and I think I will never be able to forgive myself for it. Because I… I didn't want to do it, you know? Like… urgh” he says, running his hands through his hair.

“It's ok” I say, reaching for one of them as he lets them rest on his lap, interlacing my fingers with his and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“I never meant to hurt you or treat you the way I did, Liv” Declan says, looking at me. “I swear that was never my intention. But I… I was a coward. I was a coward who got scared because he had never felt for any girl the things I was feeling for you. The things I still feel for you. Because I love you, Olivia” he says, those blue eyes of his looking at me in a way that hadn't before. It's like I could feel them reaching my heart and my soul if that makes any sense. “Each day I'm more convinced that I've loved you since the moment we met and you made me that first coffee, because I haven't been able to get you out of my head since then. And that scared me, Liv. That scared me so much… That's why sometimes I would ignore you and be cold around you. Because what I was feeling for you was so new and so intense that instead of just enjoying it, I would sabotage it. I talked about it many times with my brothers and some of my best friends, and they all gave me really good advice, the main one being: don't fuck it up, Declan. But instead of following it, I did the opposite and ruined it all. Instead of telling you how I felt, I ran away from you every time my feelings overwhelmed me. Because I was a coward, Liv. The biggest coward ever.”

“You weren't a coward, Declan” I say, wiping away a tear from his cheek.

“I was, Liv. I was a coward who fucked up big time, breaking the heart of the woman he loved, and making her despise me.”

“I never despised you. I hated you for a while, but I never despised you” I say, caressing his cheek. 

“But you should have. What I did to you that summer… The way I played with you for months… I deserved it.”

“You did, yes. Olga agrees on that” I chuckle. 

“I was going to explain everything to you that day, you know? I was going to tell you that I loved you and that I had been a dick who didn't deserve you. That I was going to work on myself to fix all my insecurities, that I wanted to become someone worth it of you even if you didn't want anything to do with me ever again. But then…”

“We got carried away.”

“A bit, yes” he smiles. “Then when we crossed paths again and I overheard you talking with Harry about being pregnant, and the thought that it could be mine didn't cross my mind, you know? I only thought that you had moved on just like I was trying to do and miserably falling at because you are the only woman I love, and that I deserved to feel the way I was feeling, that I had broken your heart and now it was my turn to feel that pain. But then you told me he was mine, and it was like the skies opened” he chuckles. “Because I saw it as the world giving me a second chance to fix things and do them right this time. To make up for all the wrong choices and mistakes I had made and stop being a coward. I couldn't keep being that person now that I was going to be a father. I needed to step up, to be the best version of myself for that little person that was about to come to the world and change everything forever. But while focusing on that, we've been getting closer again. And even though the thought of us getting back together is something that I've tried to keep locked away to just focus on your pregnancy and Ollie, on you two being safe… It's been almost impossible. The idea of us being a family, of us raising him together as a couple like I had dreamt many times before ruining it all, is something I constantly find myself thinking about, especially when we are together. Because I've found myself falling in love with you more than I already was, Liv. And hiding my feelings for you has been so hard… So fucking hard. You don't know how many times I've wanted to kiss you and love you but I've had to stop myself. So many times…”

“And here I was thinking I had done something wrong” I chuckle. “Because I've also wanted to kiss you many times, you know?”

“You have?”

“Yes” I nod.

“I wish I had told you earlier how I feel. That I love you and that I always have. But there have been so many things going on these past few months that I didn't want to confuse you even more and…”

“You have said it now, haven't you?” I smile, my fingers still caressing his face.

“I have, yes” he replies, letting out a big sigh and smiling back.

“Though I already knew.”

“What?”

“I overheard you telling your mum about it before Ollie decided it was time to come to the world.”

“You… shit.”

“And that's why I said earlier that I've been wanting to speak with you. I needed to know if what you had told her was real or if it was just my mind playing games, because Declan… I love you too.”

“You…”

“I think I've also been in love with you since the moment I met you at the cafeteria, because I haven't been able to keep you out of my head either. And yes, you hurt me and you broke my heart, but I… I never stopped loving you. I couldn't despite Olga constantly telling me that I should.”

“You should have listened to her, Liv.”

“Yeah, well” I shrug. “The thing is that then I got pregnant, and those feelings were still there, growing and getting stronger. And then there were moments where it felt like we were getting closer again and you were going to kiss me, but then you wouldn't, and like I said, I didn't know if I was doing something wrong, if it was my hormones making me imagine it all, if it was just me wishing we could go back to what we used to have, if I was making the same mistakes again and letting you play with my feelings… It was confusing as fuck” I laugh. 

“I wasn't playing with your feelings, Liv. I'm so sorry you felt like that. I know I did it in the past, and even though I wasn't doing it intentionally to hurt you, I… That wasn't the case this time. I promise you.”

“I know” I smile. “But then when you surprised me with the nursery… I knew it. I knew it wasn't my hormones messing up with me. It was just how I felt. I loved you and I was falling in love with you more and more each day, and since Ollie was born it has gotten to a point where I… I… I just fucking love you, Declan Rice. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you and…”

“And so am I, Liv. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you. I love you” he says before kissing me. 

And you know, even though we've kissed many times before, none of those kisses have felt like this one. There has not been a single kiss in my life that has made me feel the way this one is, to be honest. 

Because there has not been anyone I've loved the way I love Declan, and probably never will. 

[katy-l-wood]

Beta Search

I'm looking for a beta (or a few) for my new book who is willing to read it in chunks as I get them done. The book is heavily based around wildland firefighting, and that's something I know enough about that I don't know what isn't common knowledge anymore, so I'm looking for someone that knows nothing or next to nothing about wildland firefighting and can point out anything that's confusing to the average person. (Other feedback is also welcome! That's just the one main thing I know I need to get checked right off the bat, lol.)

These are three of the major characters. Left to right we've got:

Theo: second in command of his family's private wildland firefighting company, The Torch Crew, which was started in the fifties by his grandfather. Doing his best to keep the company alive despite the mismanagement of his much older second cousin who currently owns and runs it. Definition of "he a little confused but he got the spirit" queer ally.

Maddie: Theo's best friend. Trans woman. Takes no shit and is trying very hard to get Theo to stop taking his second cousin's shit. Very good at cutting down very scary trees and making it look easy. Lives by the mantra of "not my monkeys, not my circus" as much as possible, but when she jumps in she jumps IN.

Andreas: Main character. Asexual. 20 years old. College dropout who only joined the family firefighting company because he didn't know what else to do with himself. Nearly dies on page one and in the process accidentally ends up enmeshed in a bunch of nonsense with several Greek Gods, kicking off the plot.

Said plot, without giving too much away at this point, involves a lot of natural disaster and Andreas trying to navigate what it means to be favored by the gods, especially when at least one of those gods has it out for the existence of all mortals.

Overall themes of sacrifice, what sacrifice means, responsibility for the climate, and power as an individual vs. a collective.

I have about 30k written so far, and I'm thinking it'll end up around 80-100k, and will be a standalone. I'd send it to you in probably 2-3 chapter chunks as I get them done, plus that 30k chunk that's already done. I'd appreciate relatively quick feedback (weeks rather than months).

If you're interested, please DM me! I'd like to do this over Discord if possible, if not, email is fine. And it would be using Word for feedback as I don't use Google Docs.

I'll turn off reblogs when I've found enough people, so if reblogs are on I'm still looking. :)

[chubbychiquita]

Wanted to share a quote that feels pertinent to the b.s. that was in your inbox today:

“Concepts like ‘greed(iness),’ and ‘over-consumption’ are the cages that breed Thinness… Thinness, as a politic, demands that one consume less, desire less, rather than make the demand that we end a World where what one desires would leave others without” (20). Da’Shaun L. Harrison, Belly of The Beast: The Politics of Anti-Fatness as Anti-Blackness

thank you so much for this! 💕

[eclecticopposition]

seeing personality disorder discussion on the dashboard. the impulse to share all the self-therapy books and tools we have has never been stronger

[books-and-dragons]

interesting to me that when ao3 goes down it's always 'number one trending topic', 'thousands of people talking about missing reading fics', and all sorts of other fanfic withdrawal symptoms, generally just feeling, and being impacted by, the Absence of Fanfic

but it's never 'leaves a comment on fanfic', 'gives kudos and recommends to friends', 'follows author/interacts with them in any way shape or form and otherwise lets them know how much you value their writing and fanfiction in general'

[theygender]

For any horror fans out there that haven't read it yet: The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher is SO GOOD. I don't remember ever being so scared by a book