#this look is so complex and a mixture of so many things

[gahdamnit]

"Sure, he’s under pressure but Sydney is too and yet Sydney stopped and went to Tina, she understood her distress, she felt her silent cry of help and crossed the kitchen to her, steadying Tina again, calmly, without harsh words, without being a total prick even if the situation was nerve-wracking."

"He looked at it and was mad, impressed, envious and solemn. He looked at Sydney as if she is special, as if this is special and something. Something that was worth taking a few seconds to stop, to see and take in. The few seconds he pointedly declared they did not have to Tina."

3x03

The way he looks at Syd here. I found it extremely interesting and back then I understood it a certain way but now that I have the whole context, meaning I have finished watching season 3...well I see it in a totally different light. Okay this might be a bit long one but here me out. 

At first, I thought Carmy was mad. They were in the rush of service and some plates took longer than necessary to be ready and so he was in his full-asshole Chef mode, running expo in a way that was cold and stressing. I thought he was simply angry because Sydney went to help Tina with the pasta cooking/plating. 

I still think he is mad but with the events in the following episodes, I believe it is way more than that, I think it is much deeper than I expected it to be and I might be reading into this too much but I made another meta and I feel like I cannot speak about this scene without bringing the Carmy scene at Ever in 3x10. 

Now, I think Carmy is jealous. I believe he is impressed. He is mad. He is so fucking envious. He is scared, petrified even. Carmy is in awe and quite astonished. 

That is how I see it now.

The thing is Sydney is portrayed as being impatient, and sure she might have shown some signs of being so regarding certain aspects but when it comes to cooking, when it comes to leading a team, when it comes to being the Chef of cuisine, when it is about running her kitchen, her cooks, she is patient. 

Sydney is patient and calm and pedagogue. She is willing to repeat, to assist and to help. She does not shout, she does not squeeze you even more into the panic of the kitchen even if the situation pleads her to do so. Sydney is loving, caring and fulfilling. She brings back your confidence up, she highlights your strengths, she shows that she trusts you. Sydney is willing to wait, repeat and assist you without doing it all for you even under the humongous pressure of time and peak service. She provides the tools, shows you how to use them in the most efficient way and lets you do it, her hand ready to chime in if needed, if you ask for it. Essentialy, she's a humonguous talented force that whispers you that you can do it. You can do it, Tina. You can do it, Marcus. You can do it.

We saw that during season 1. We saw that again during season 2. She is special, she is something. We saw that once more during season 3, more precisely with Tina, taking the seconds necessary to show her multiple times how to properly cook the pasta and plate it correctly even under the pressure of service. She sets aside her work and helps, guiding Tina with utmost care. She was annoyed too. She was stressed. It was in the middle of service, it delayed everything but Sydney still helped. 

And what did Carmy do in those specific instances? 

He shouted. He was cold, destroying Tina’s confidence, spitting deprecating comments. He did not help. He did not love. He did not care. Sure, he’s under pressure but Sydney is too and yet Sydney stopped and went to Tina, she understood her distress, she felt her silent cry of help and crossed the kitchen to her, steadying Tina again, calmly, without harsh words, without being a total prick even if the situation was nerve-wracking. 

Carmy saw that. He looked at that interaction, watched Sydney be a teacher, a pedagogue, he saw Sydney be the Chef he is not. The Chef he probably never will be. He gazed at something that he does not know how to do, at something he did not even think possible in a kitchen. 

He looked at it and was mad, impressed, envious and solemn. He looked at Sydney as if she is special, as if this is special and something. Something that was worth taking a few seconds to stop, to see and take in. The few seconds he pointedly declared they did not have to Tina.

That is something.

[nylqnder]

LAST CHRISTMAS QUINN HUGHES

pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes

summary: you are forced to confront lingering emotions and the complexities of a past romance when you and quinn cross paths at a holiday party.

warnings: no unfaithfulness but pretty damn close, quinn not being the greatest person/boyfriend, reader isn't that good either

wc: 2.82k

notes: based on 'last christmas' by wham!. i am fully aware that this is an extremely gay song, but i love the plot so i altered the interpretation a bit. hope you enjoy :)

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart But the very next day, you gave it away

The house hummed lowly, holiday conversations bouncing off the walls. You navigated the crowded living room, clutching a cocktail glass that held the homemade mixture that Colleen was calling ‘Mistletoe Kiss’. It was tart and slightly bitter — much like the season itself. Colleen was hosting a last-minute bash before everyone scattered for the holidays, a final get-together before the new year. The rush of the holiday season was clearly getting to everyone, seasonal jet lag laced in all your friends' eyes.

You were doing your best to keep your head down, getting yourself stuck in conversations to keep yourself occupied, and never exposing yourself to a potential interaction with Quinn. 

The knowledge of his presence had landed like a gut punch earlier when Colleen’s boyfriend, Kyle, casually mentioned he’d arrived. “Yeah, Hughesy just got here. Grabbed a beer in the kitchen,” he’d said, completely oblivious to the ripple it sent through you.

Your history with Quinn was beyond complicated. For years you liked him — really liked him. When Colleen introduced you to one of her boyfriend's friends, you weren’t expecting to fall as hard as you did. 

Quinn had this way of making everything feel lighter just by walking into the room. His smile, easy and genuine, had a magnetic pull, and his laugh — deep and sincere — could dissolve any tension in an instant. It wasn’t just his looks, though they were undeniable. It was how he made you feel like you were the only person in the room, even when the place was filled with people.

But back then, Quinn was in a relationship, and you were the friend. The one who listened when he vented about the highs and lows of his relationship, the one who offered advice when things felt rough. You never let your feelings show — kept them buried deep, a secret you couldn't share without risking the delicate balance of friendship you’d worked so hard to maintain.

Then, the inevitable happened. Quinn and his girlfriend broke up. The breakup was messy, full of unanswered questions, lingering emotions, and unspoken regret. But through it all, you were there for him. The late-night phone calls, the long walks that turned into marathon chats about life and love. You were there as he processed his feelings, as he tried to make sense of everything that had unraveled. You listened, you comforted, and you kept your distance — telling yourself that you were just being a good friend.

But when he kissed you that night, everything shifted. It was a quiet evening, after a few too many drinks, the weight of the conversation having settled into something more comfortable between you two. You were sitting on the couch, the hum of the party muffled in the background, and Quinn, in that way of his, leaned in close. His eyes searched yours for something, as if asking for permission, and then his lips brushed against yours in a slow, tentative kiss.

For a moment, you thought you might wake up from some kind of dream. You never expected it to happen. The line between friendship and something else had been so carefully drawn, and yet here you were, tangled in the blur of it all. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, you kissed him back, your heart racing as the world around you disappeared.

That kiss changed everything. It was the moment you realized that maybe you had been falling for Quinn all along, not just in the way of a casual crush, but in a deeper, more consuming way. It was never just about being his friend. Somewhere along the way, you had become someone who wanted more than just to comfort him through the pain of his past relationship. You wanted to be a part of his future.

The shift in your relationship was seamless, like turning a page to the next chapter. Quinn wasn’t the type to make grand declarations, but in his quiet, steady way, he made you feel like you were the only person in the room. He showed up with coffee when he knew you’d had a rough day and pulled you into late-night drives just because he wanted your company. For a few fleeting weeks, everything felt like it was falling into place.

But there was always a part of you waiting for the other shoe to drop. Quinn was kind and thoughtful, but he was also guarded — his walls didn’t come down easily, even for you. You sensed that he was still carrying the weight of his past relationship, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

Just a few days after you’d rung in the New Year with a sweet connection of your lips, Quinn was sat on your couch with his hands clenched in his lap, telling you he wasn’t ready for anything. The sting of his previous relationship still lingered despite reassurances that you’d helped him get through it. 

The winter months after that conversation were some of the hardest you’d ever endured. It wasn’t just the biting chill in the Vancouver air or the relentless gray skies; it was the hollow ache in your chest that followed you everywhere. The city itself felt like a constant reminder of Quinn. His face was plastered on billboards, buses, and newsstands, the unmistakable symbol of the Canucks’ future. You couldn’t even grab a coffee without overhearing someone discussing his latest performance on the ice.

You buried yourself in work, determined to fill your days with enough activity to keep your thoughts at bay. But no matter how much you distracted yourself, memories of him crept in like the cold drafts under your door. The moments you’d shared replayed in your mind on an endless loop, leaving you wondering if he regretted kissing you or if it had meant as much to him as it had to you.

By the time spring arrived, you were ready for a change. The first thing was your hair. You traded your usual style for a rich, darker color and committed to letting it grow long for the first time in years. There was something cathartic about watching the stylist cover up the light color that felt too tied to your old self. Next, you tackled your wardrobe. Out went the comfortable but somewhat juvenile staples, and in their place came sleek blazers, tailored pants, and minimalist jewelry. You wanted to project confidence and maturity, even if you were still trying to find your footing internally.

Spring turned into summer, and with it came an unexpected lightness. You threw yourself into hobbies you’d neglected — morning yoga classes, weekend hikes, evenings spent sketching at the beach. It was during one of those hikes that you met Caleb. He was warm, easygoing, and funny in a way that caught you off guard. He didn’t play hockey — thank God — but he shared your love of the outdoors and seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you.

Dating Caleb was simple in a way that being with Quinn never had been. He made you laugh and let you take the lead when you needed space. Over time, you convinced yourself that you were moving on, that you were happy. And you were — mostly. But there was always a part of you that felt like you were lying to yourself like you’d left a piece of your heart behind with someone who didn’t know what to do with it.

By the time fall rolled around, you had settled into a comfortable rhythm with Caleb. But Vancouver’s hockey season was back in full swing, and with it came the constant reminders of Quinn. You saw him in advertisements along the streets, in post-game interviews on TV, and in casual mentions from friends. He was everywhere, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the shadow he cast over your life.

Now, standing in Colleen’s crowded living room, the knowledge that Quinn was here felt like a cruel twist of fate. You avoided the kitchen like the plague, keeping a safe distance while you plastered on polite smiles and engaged in surface-level conversations. Every nerve in your body was on edge, hyperaware of the possibility that at any moment, you might turn a corner and see him.

It wasn’t fair. You’d done everything you could to move forward, yet here he was, pulling you back into the orbit of what could have been. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way. Did he think of you when he passed your street? Did he ever regret telling you he wasn’t ready, or had he moved on completely?

You moved through the space, finding a new conversation to occupy yourself in every time the old one faltered, doing your best to avoid Quinn. You stopped at the entry of the living room, spotting Kyle holding court near the fireplace, his animated storytelling drawing bursts of laughter from the small crowd around him. 

Caleb stood nearby, his grin soft and familiar as he leaned against the wall, his broad shoulders relaxed in the easy way that had initially drawn you to him. Watching him, a small smile tugged at your lips. Caleb didn’t demand space in your life — he simply filled it, effortlessly complementing your days. Being with Caleb was uncomplicated. He didn’t carry the weight of unspoken feelings or unresolved emotions. It was light, refreshing.

But light wasn’t the same as fulfilling.

A pang of guilt gnawed at you as you realized your thoughts had wandered from Caleb to the person you’d spent all evening avoiding. Despite your best efforts, Quinn remained an unfading part of your narrative. No amount of moving on seemed to erase him completely.

As you lingered in the corner of the living room, trying to fade into the background, a voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Your heart jolted. You turned, your eyes landing on Quinn. He stood just inches away, his presence as commanding as ever. He had one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his dark jeans, the other holding a bottle of beer. His hair was slightly longer, curling at the ends, and the familiar cut of his jawline sent an unwelcome pang through your chest. His eyes raked over you, lingering just long enough to make you self-conscious of the changes he was referencing — the darker hair, the clothes.

You find the strength inside you to muscle out some words. “Yeah well… it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me.”

Quinn lets out a soft laugh, nodding slightly. “The hair suits you,” he added, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks,” you managed, your voice steady despite the storm brewing in your chest. You felt the heat of his gaze, his attention unnervingly focused. “You look good too,” you added, gesturing vaguely toward him. It was true — he always did, but now there was something different. An ease, maybe, or a quiet confidence that hadn’t been there before.

“I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” Quinn said, his tone light but his eyes searching.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you lied, taking a sip of your drink to buy yourself a moment. “Just…busy, you know? Catching up with people.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, the kind that lingers in the space between two people with too much history and not enough closure. You glanced over to Caleb, hoping he saw you talking to your ex, hoping he’d come over and rescue you from the situation you couldn’t seem to tear yourself away from. However, the stayed intensely focused on the story Kyle was telling, leaving you to your own defenses. 

Quinn followed your gaze across the room, landing on the guy he’d seen you arrive with earlier in the night. “Who’s he?”

Your eyes snapped back to Quinn as he tipped his beer bottle to his lips. You felt your cheeks warm, though whether from the cocktail or the sudden shift in conversation, you weren’t sure. “Caleb,” you said, his name firm and steady in your mouth, a reminder to yourself as much as to Quinn. “He’s…he’s great.”

Quinn nodded, his eyes locking on yours with that steady, unreadable gaze he always seemed to have. “That’s good. I’m glad for you.”

You hesitated, unsure why you felt the need to elaborate but knowing you couldn’t leave it at that. “He’s been really good to me, actually. Supportive, kind… everything you’d hope for.” The words came out earnest, almost defensive, like you were trying to prove something — to him, to yourself.

Quinn’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “That’s…that’s what you deserve,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice cutting through you like a knife. The words were kind, but the way he said them made your chest ache. You opened your mouth to respond, but Quinn stepped closer, the subtle movement making your breath hitch. He studied you intently, his eyes tracing your face like he was committing it to memory.

“Are you happy?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stumbled, the question catching you off guard. “Quinn…”

“Are you?” he pressed, his tone gentle but insistent. His gaze dipped briefly to your lips, and the air between you crackled with tension. “Because I’ve been trying to convince myself I’m okay with this — with seeing you with someone else — but I’m not. I miss you.”

The world seemed to narrow in that moment, the low hum of Colleen's holiday party fading into a distant echo. Quinn's words lingered in the air between you, heavy with longing and regret, and you felt your pulse quicken as he stepped closer. His familiar scent—a mix of fresh pine and something distinctly his—wrapped around you like a memory you couldn’t shake. The ache in your chest deepened as his gaze flicked to your lips again, and your breath caught.

You were terrified. Not of him, but of yourself. Of how easily you could lean into him, let him kiss you, and lose yourself in the familiarity of his touch. And the scariest part? You wanted to. Despite Caleb, despite everything, there was a part of you that ached to feel Quinn’s lips on yours again. To know, even for a fleeting moment, that he still cared.

But you couldn’t. Could you?

The sound of Caleb’s laughter cut through the moment like a lifeline. You turned your head toward the fireplace, where Caleb stood, his grin wide and carefree as he laughed at something Kyle had said. His warmth, his steadiness, and the way he had so effortlessly become a part of your life came rushing back to you. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be a footnote in a story still haunted by Quinn Hughes.

Stepping back, you forced yourself to put space between you and Quinn, the cocktail glass trembling slightly in your grip. “Happy Christmas, Quinn,” you said softly, the words catching in your throat but firm enough to leave no room for ambiguity.

Quinn blinked, caught off guard by your sudden retreat. His brow furrowed slightly, as though he wanted to say more, to stop you, but he didn’t. He simply nodded, his jaw tightening as he stepped aside to let you pass.

You moved through the room on autopilot, weaving through clusters of partygoers until you reached Caleb’s side. He looked up as you approached, his easy smile breaking into something warmer when he saw you.

“Hey, you okay?” Caleb asked, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. The gesture was small but grounding, anchoring you in the moment.

You nodded, forcing a smile as you slipped your hand into his. “Yeah, I am now.”

He smiled back, leaning in to press a light kiss to your temple. The simple gesture was everything you needed in that moment—a reminder of what you had, of the life you were trying to build, even if it wasn’t perfect.

But as Caleb’s attention shifted back to Kyle’s story, you couldn’t stop the fleeting glance over your shoulder. Quinn was still standing where you’d left him, his expression unreadable as he watched you. For a moment, your eyes met, and the weight of everything unsaid settled heavily between you.

You looked away first, turning back to Caleb and focusing on the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his hand in yours. You had made your choice—at least for now. But deep down, you knew this wasn’t over. Quinn had a way of lingering, of leaving his mark on your life even when he wasn’t trying.

And no matter how much you wanted to believe otherwise, part of you still wasn’t sure if letting him go was the right thing to do.

[xmintpiex]

The Bullet Point

wc: 3,721

Marriage and everything else that came with it were part of your dream. Not Sae's.

content: Sae Itoshi x fem!reader, sfw, sunshine!reader (she's def over the top), fluff, romance, childhood friends, shoujo inspired (specifically itazura na kiss), silly. AU.

The idea had sounded absolutely perfect when Mrs. Itoshi brought it up, the certainty in her voice, that twinkle in her eyes. Rin seemed to be all settled in his apartment now, and your dad had plenty of helping hands at his bakery. It was the perfect time to carry out the plan you had been dreaming about, tossing and turning and giggling with excitement late at night about for years now.

The plan, that dream that kept you going even when things got hard, when you felt sad and alone. The plan that Mrs. Itoshi fully supported you in, always coming up with the most brilliant ideas to add, Mr. Itoshi speaking up gently to maybe make them a little more realistic. The one that Rin would roll his eyes at and call you stupid over (he was just jealous! hmmph!). The one that your dad would shake his head fondly at, with amusement and that subtle pride in his smile.

Words written down in your old childhood diary, circled and doodled around, the page covered with hearts and stickers and the sign of age, yet still just as true.

So you bought that long one-way plane ticket from Japan to Spain that same day, spirits high and determination unbreakable. After all, Sae was all alone in that foreign land, left to fend for himself for so many years, you couldn't bear to leave him like that anymore! Now you finally had the chance to be there with him! Yes, that’s right, you would be there to cook his favorite meals (..the ones that fit his highly selected meal plan anyways..), make sure his luxury apartment wasn't just a house but a home (cozy pillows, photos, and matching toothbrush holders and so much more!), and cheer him on during each and every one of his games, in person now!

Your smile was still so bright as you somehow managed to hail a taxi driver at the airport with a mixture of your nonexistent Spanish and incredibly poor English (..perhaps you should have studied a little more...) and showed them the address that you had saved on your phone for months. The address that was memorized by heart, the one that you had already sent a plethora of letters and care packages to.

Your eyes were dazzling as you got out of the cab and stood in front of that sleek, beautiful apartment complex that Sae was residing in. You could hear your heart beating so fast at the thought of finally being able to see Sae after 4 months of being apart, and that this time it would be permanent, it wouldn’t be just another short visit. The apartment no longer just the photo pinned to your bedroom wall, your dreams no longer only confined to the touch of the glossy paper and magazine cutouts beneath your fingertips.

It was only when you got that panicked phone call from Mrs. Itoshi, as you were trying and failing to get the apartment complex’s security guard to let you in that your bright smile diminished a bit. Because Sae was not currently in Spain. He was in Germany, as was Rin, and would be there for at least a month due to some football event he had joined.

The twinkle in your eyes seemed to die a bit and your smile became so much smaller as you came to the sudden realization that you were in a foreign country, two large heavy suitcases at your side, with no understanding of the language and no place to stay. You sank to the ground, hugging your knees as you inhaled heavily to hold back your tears as fear clouded your thoughts.

But!

You would be okay because you had the power of a credit card! And just like that, you popped right back up, your determination burning brighter than the scorching sun above you (the young security guard might have been looking at you with a look of utmost fear, but that didn't really matter right now).

So you decided to go for a little walk around the neighborhood, taking in the fresh crisp ocean breeze, the sound of distant seagulls and crashing waves soothing your worries. Stopping for a delicious lunch at that cute little restaurant you spotted (giggling to yourself as you pictured eating there with Sae next time, oh so romantic!), noticing a cute little storefront that seemed to have been recently sold (perfect for a bakery you mused dreamily) before you managed to get another taxi to take you right back to the airport.

You miss how the security guard of Sae’s apartment complex so desperately tried to wave you back over, his black cell phone pressed to one of his ears as you excitedly looked at your trip itinerary for Germany in the back seat of the taxi.

The first thing Eita Otoya notices about you is your cute, sunny smile as he sits down next to you on the crowded plane and your excitement and relief at the realization that he also speaks Japanese. The second thing he notices is that dainty rose gold ring around your finger, twisted and dotted with little white diamonds, reminiscent of ocean waves in the sunset. It looks vaguely familiar, a small tickle in the back of his head that he can’t quite pinpoint. He assumes it must be some trendy designer jewelry piece he saw somewhere like that overly expensive bracelet that so many of his ex-girlfriends had wanted him to buy.

The third thing he notices about you is your soft, sparkly eyes, the light flush of your cheeks when he asks you if you have a boyfriend (he’s learned the hard way to always ask that question), and how you bashfully shake your head ‘no’. How cute. He assumes he’s in the clear then, to have you be his friend for a bit while he stays in Berlin, he’s already picturing taking you out to restaurants, enjoying a good meal together, having you cheer him on, and a bunch of other things with a cute girl like you at his side.

Eita Otoya does not notice the bubble of giddy laughter that is barely contained behind your bright smile, that far-off, dreamy look in your eyes after he had mentioned the term boyfriend. Because you definitely did not have a boyfriend.

Not anymore!

Rin Itoshi is already feeling a migraine forming from the grueling experience of having to sit between his two most obnoxious teammates on that 2-hour plane trip from Paris. He thinks he’s officially lost it, that he’s seeing hallucinations now because he swears he sees your dumb smiling face in the goddamn Berlin airport. Impossible. There's no way, even you aren't stupid enough to plan something like this, right?

…

Right?

…

Sae Itoshi’s manager thinks today is the day he will die. If not from the extreme levels of stress he is currently experiencing, it will be from Sae Itoshi’s cold wrath. The poor man is sweating, his normally pristine suit rumpled and drenched, sleeves rolled up, glasses sliding off his damp face as he has his phone pressed to his ear, laptop open as he desperately scrolls through credit card transactions and airline information.

Sae is still in the midst of his interview, answering bluntly and clinically in his typical manner yet his words seem even more curt than normal. Left foot subtly bouncing, hands locked together, cold teal eyes glancing back to his frantic manager between questions.

Immediately taking his phone out of his pocket the moment the cameras are turned off and everyone is packing up. Jaw clenching when the number he calls leads straight to voicemail.

It’s not until you’re at the hotel lobby (Otoya-kun's suggestion, oh he's so nice, you're so happy you made a new friend!), taking out your card to pay for your hotel room, it finally dawns on Otoya about where exactly he had seen your ring before. His eyes zeroing in on that very, very familiar name printed on the credit card in your hands.

Oh.

(Ninja Art: Strategic Exit)

You're done paying for your hotel room, excited to finally put your suitcases somewhere and then go eat at that amazing restaurant Otoya kept mentioning, turning to face him only to find him nowhere to be found. Brows furrowed and lips pouting in concern and confusion as you look around the hotel lobby, trying to figure out where your new friend could have gone.

"You."

That familiar voice, the one that you could recognize with your eyes closed, the one you sometimes fall asleep to while on facetime with. The voice engrained into your heart. Monotone and cold yet anything but (especially right now). Your smile is the brightest it's been all day, the brightest it's been in months really, suitcases and hunger and exhaustion (and Otoya-kun's mysterious disappearance) all forgotten from your mind as you rush over to him, flinging your arms around him.

"Sae!"

Your heart so warm, beating so brightly, so bubbly like your favorite fizzy candy. A feeling you've always felt with Sae.

Like when you were 6 and you dropped your ice cream cone.

You’re in absolute shock, ready to cry yet again and Sae does not want to deal with that again, he doesn't like it when you cry. You've had too many things to cry about recently, but at least this situation is something he can try to control. So he shoves his own ice cream cone into your hand, hoping that’ll be enough. It’s something he’s used to doing for his younger brother, just the most effective way to stop your nearly endless tears. Another crybaby in his life to take care of. Your small hands linked together as you walk around the neighborhood park, your shimmering eyes glued to him.

Or when you’re 8 and you and your dad and the Itoshi family go out for your weekly movie night.

An established ritual of going to see a movie together with reservations ready at that yummy restaurant later, something your families have done ever since you could remember. The movie was your choice this time, a story of a mermaid becoming a human princess and living in a seaside castle with her adorable sea creature friends and her beloved prince, fixing all their problems with the power of love and friendship.

Your eyes barely left the movie screen as they dazzled in excitement at how the mermaid princess and her human prince danced and spun around on that beautiful balcony overlooking the ocean. The warmth in your heart and the little tears of happiness that bubbled in your eyes as the prince and the mermaid got married.

You still weren’t too sure what marriage was, all you knew was that it meant you could sleep in the same bedroom like Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi did, that you would love each other forever, make each other happy forever, even if you couldn’t see each other (like how your dad visited your mama every year, a fresh flower bouquet, warm glossy eyes, and soft smiles). An endless playdate with your favorite person in the whole universe, always happy and together!

That was what you wanted, that was what you dreamed of. So you declared during dinner, a little too loudly in the quiet restaurant, that you had a dream of what you wanted to do as an adult. Clumsily standing up from your seat, nearly tipping your water cup over, face scrunched and rosy with determination and courage and too much soda.

Your declaration that you and Sae would get married when you were older and live in a seaside castle just like in the movie and live together forever and ever (and become mermaids and other such crucial details). Your small warm hand had gently grabbed Sae’s hand during your declaration and his teal colored eyes bore down at where your hands were linked. “Okay.” He had simply said in that monotone voice.

Your dad and Mr. Itoshi looked at you wide-eyed before laughing heartily, your dad reaching over to ruffle your head. Mrs. Itoshi nodded enthusiastically, overwhelmed by your absolute cuteness as she sniffled proudly, already calling you her precious, adorable daughter-in-law, already envisioning and planning a grand wedding as Mr. Itoshi gently rubbed her shoulder in hopes she wouldn't make this even more of a scene.

Rin grumbled and huffed and told you that was stupid, that something like that was impossible and even if it were, Sae wouldn’t live in some stupid seaside castle! His big brother would live in a football stadium with him, the two of them the #1 and #2 best strikers in the whole entire world!

You were pouty and your eyes full of tears, like the little crybaby you were as you bickered with Rin (h-how dare he! You were older! Hmmph! Why did he never listen to you as he did with Sae!). Sae was silent through the whole thing, still chewing on his bite of pasta, quiet as he usually was when the two of you harmlessly fought over him, his free hand still in your grasp. Until finally cutting in.

"We can do both."

Rin eventually agrees that you can have your castle across from their football stadium and that you can host your tea parties to celebrate every single game they will win. You reluctantly pout back that he can be a mermaid too and have sleepovers in your castle…if he listens to whatever you say!

Amongst the laughter and chatter and the sound of Mrs. Itoshi’s camera, as she forever immortalized this moment, Sae Itoshi added another minor detail to that small list of bullet points he kept in his head.

It’s when you’re 10 and you’ve made your first batch of homemade cookies all by yourself without the help of your dad (aside from helping you with the oven stuff).

Your fingers are a little burnt (and so are the cookies), but your eyes are sparkling, smile bright and hopeful as you rush off skipping to the neighborhood park to meet up with Sae and Rin, holding the little red cookie tin to your chest.

"They taste burnt."

Sae says matter-of-factly after a bite, chewing slowly as if that would help him make a proper critique.

"Yeah, they're burnt! Bleh! Burnt!"

Of course, Rin mimicking him before adding his own little flair.

Your lip wobbling, lashes fluttering slowly, eyes getting hot and wet with tears.

Sae reaching into the little tin for another one and then another until they're all gone, eating each one despite your tearful, pouty whines.

"They're not bad. Just keep making them, I'll eat all of them."

It's when you’re 13 and Sae is leaving.

Leaving to go live in a whole other country, away from you. Your tears are large and already seeping into Sae’s brand-new jersey as you wish and whine so badly that you could go with him. He’s quiet, and calm, telling you to stop being a big baby, saying he’ll be back for a visit in a few months probably. His hand in yours, a subtle squeeze, as his other hand gently pinches your pouty lips. You'll be good for him, right?

A little moment of hesitation before he suddenly leans in, cheeks just as red as yours, his lips clumsy and quick, a sweet little press against yours. Your eyes on him, wide and bubbly, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Your lips wobbling as you attempt to pucker them, looking up at him expectantly in hopes he will do it again.

He lets out that rare little noise you adore, that soft chuckle, the corner of his lips slightly upturned, only your silly face in his teal eyes. He leans in and you perk up excitedly, wanting to make sure your second kiss is perfect, longer, closing your eyes, hands trembling.

Only for him to pinch your lips again with his fingers.

"Crybabies don't get second kisses unless they're good."

And when you’re 14 and Sae is visiting for a few days.

It’s a cold winter day, full of fluffy white snow and you’re bundled up tight in the red scarf that Mrs. Itoshi gifted you. It’s just the two of you because Rin refuses to leave his room (he’s been in a really bad mood recently, you're still figuring out how to cheer him up..both of them up).

The two of you walk around the park as the snow falls, Sae is quiet, even more than normal, as you point things out or tell him about some of the things that have happened while he was gone. Your gloved hands are entwined, as always when the two of you walk. His hand feels different, a little bigger, a little thinner, a little more rough, just like the rest of him. His teal eyes are dull, trained on the snowy path you walk, before settling onto your obnoxious beaming smile, the flush of your cheeks, the way he looks reflected in your eyes.

Pulling him to go sit on a snowy bench before taking out that familiar old cookie tin, full to the brim of sugar cookies, sprinkled with red and blue sprinkles, edges a little cracked.

"I'm on a diet, you know."

Yet he's reaching for one, pressing the allegedly "heart-shaped" cookie to his lips and taking a slow bite. Your eyes watching every little moment of his mouth, your heart beating nervously and your gloved hands fisted with nervousness.

"Better than last time."

Your smile too bright, it could rival the sun.

He reaches for another only to be tugged down, his lips unceremoniously pressed against yours, too sudden, your nose nearly hitting his. Crumbs still on his lips, now on yours. Sweet like vanilla and butter.

So perfect.

It’s when you’re 16, having another one of your long-distance phone calls.

You babble endlessly as always, phone pressed to your ear as your legs sway back and forth as you lay on your plushie-covered bed. Sae, as usual, is mainly silent as he continues with his gym routine, responding with an occasional grunt or ‘hmm’ as you go on and on. His ears full of nothing except the clinking of gym equipment and your loud, cheery voice. You mention your new friend who you’re going to the movies with this weekend, the boy at your school who offered you his umbrella on a rainy day (so kind!), and who always wants to eat lunch with you.

"Didn't you fail your math test? Don't waste your time on stupid things like that and study instead."

"..S-Sae!!" (As usual…he was right.)

A few days later you receive a small package from Spain, sent via express mail, a little silver ring, and a simple four-word note.“Do not take off.”

You're ecstatic, showing off to everyone who will listen (and Rin of course). Spamming Sae's messages with way too many selfies. Your hand and that sparkling little ring the main focus in all of them, receiving nothing back but that little 'read' indication and a single "go study" message.

It's when you're 17, sat at the Itoshi's kitchen table.

Going through the recent sports magazine that Sae graced the cover of, your handy scissors at your side as you happily recount Sae's most recent interview to those present.

(Your smile too wide as you trace over that familiar silver ring that's hung around his neck, barely visible under his jersey, fingertips against the cold, glossy paper.)

Rin with his arms crossed and trying to look as disinterested as possible while Mrs. Itoshi happily nods from where she's typing away at her work laptop. But you give Rin that smile that always makes him huff, nervous at whatever dumb thing you're going to do now, seeing him twitch and try to hide his flustered look as you produce a second magazine of the same issue, still in its plastic wrap.

"This way you can cut out Sae's pictures and have them on your wall too! Let's make dream boards together, Rin!"

"S-shut up!"

It's right now, years later, settled in the back seat of the car as the driver drives the two of you back to where Sae is staying, your head on Sae's shoulder.

You're already fast asleep, your exhaustion, the happiness of your heart catching up with you (and the jet lag). Hands entwined. Matching wedding rings glowing under the bright passing city lights, the softness of the moon.

His phone is silenced, lighting up for a moment, the notification of his new interview being posted, before the screen fades back to darkness, tucked away in his bag next to that red cookie tin you had excitedly taken out of your suitcase. For now, the interview was irrelevant, forgotten in the midst of your peaceful snores, his soft, amused smile.

But in the morning, when Sae was already well into his morning routine, you would be cozy and warm and still so sleepy under the silky covers. He would then take the time, sat at the small hotel room patio with his kombucha, to skim over his interview.

'Sae Itoshi Confirms Marriage Rumors.'

He knew that once you woke up, once your sleepy, jet-lagged state gave way to your usual bubbly energy, you'd be over the moon. Squealing and giggling and saying how you needed to save the article in your scrapbook. Nearly jumping on him as you showered him in too much affection, messy little kisses, and cheeks pressed together. Undeniable proof of your dream coming true, solid like that ring around your finger, like the marriage certificate framed back in the apartment in Spain.

Your dream.

But not Sae's.

Because for Sae, marriage was not a dream, not some goal he would eventually achieve when he deemed it time. It had never been any of that. You and your overly burning love, your too-radiant smiles and laughter, your crybaby tears, your warm hugs, and noisy kisses, and sweet sugar cookies were just truths. Undeniable facts in his life. Your presence in his life, your relationship never a dream, never a goal, never a checkmark, but a bullet point. A bullet point on that little list of things that were fundamental to Sae Itoshi's life.

[mad-maximoff]

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵 1- 𝘔𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵

Sum: Mack Flores had always found the underbelly of society comforting. Mack works in a nightclub as a bartender. She has many friends, but not as special as Star. A 57 year-old hooker, who Mack has a little crush on. Mack wants her to quit, but Star has no other choice until Mack makes the choice for them both that'll alter their lives forever.

Warnings: *Warnings will be announced for each chapter*, language, smoking

Word Count: 4,424

Wattpad link // AO3 // Masterlist

2 AM never came so quickly. Yeah, I hated cleaning up the bar but goddamn, tonight was a cluster of new 21-year-olds from hell. Was I ever that bad? Hell, I can't talk. I'm only 23 but I feel ancient next to these fresh-faced babies.

"Yo, Mack!" My boss, Trina, was a real hippie. A 62-year-old biker chick in a skirt turned the corner of the bar coming down the small flight of stairs from her office. "Yo, Trina!" I mimicked back, it always irked her. She chuckled leaning over the bar counter. "You wanna get outta here? You can leave if you want, I can finish storing the bottles away." Her question perked my head from the counter as I crouched down and wiped a mysterious sticky liquid off the cupboard. "Hell yeah!" I bolted adjusting my belt. "Now, now. Before you go and fuck off, go take the trash out. Then you can fly away." I sighed but knew I did not want to stay longer than I had to. My boots scuffed the floor as I dragged my body to the very thing I despised most. The trash. It was sticky and a mixture of every alcohol and the flies would come out of nowhere. I quickly tied it into a knot and lifted it slowly fearing the worst of the glass clinking.

Jesus what a night...

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Los Angeles. Beautiful this time of year. When I first moved to the States from Canada, I always knew when the weather changed back home. Here, I had to make heads or tales. Though, I knew it was fall. I wasn't sweating to death at 2 am, nor was I freezing to death. I was quite content walking home. The club I worked at was on the Hollywood strip. My apartment complex was a few blocks away. It was as though my apartment was in the middle of everything. Tourists, walk of fame, and Fig street. I often found I would rather walk Figueroa than be around a bunch of tourists taking pictures of gum on a star. That, and I get to see my own star walking so famously. Shining more brightly than any star in the Chinese Theatre. Star. I waited for her at the corner of Fig as I lit a cigarette. A few girls passed me, asking if I wanted company. Another asked for a light or match. I often carry a few matchbooks in my bag. A few tampons and condoms as well. I hand them out like I'm Oprah. Star taught me that. The girls appreciate it. A few knew me by name, perhaps by knowing Star or maybe I have served them once before.

"Yoo-hoo! Starry-girl!" I hollered as the prettiest blonde stepped out of a red brick building adjusting her fur cheetah print coat. Faux, of course, she would never been seen in real fur. She's a real animal activist.

"Miss Mack Flores! Now what have I told you about waiting up for me?" Star's 6-inch heels clicked along the concrete. Star held herself up proudly, her white cream-coloured purse with a gold chain bounced against her hip. "Haha, I didn't I just got here. Tri cut me early. So, I figured I'd come find you." I matched with Star's pace. Her strides were longer than mine. Not just because of the heels but also because she was 2 inches taller than me.

Every time I saw Star there was always something new I never noticed. Today, I noticed the way the muscles in her hand moved as she flinched her knuckles. Her dainty fingers looked soft, her nails were still painted in the shade of red nail polish I got her for Christmas last year. It was Nars in the shade Chinatown.

Star huffed while she held her tightly tied corset. It was a staple in her normal wardrobe. It was a dark cream colour with a thin black outline around the chest, the strings were black tied up in the back. She wore skin colour garter pantyhose with a fine lace trim around her thighs."That's Trina for you. She makes you stay late and makes you worry, then decides to cut you."

"Come on Star, she means well." I pursed my lips against the cigarette, exhaling out and flicking the ash behind us.

"Mack, you think everyone means well. I've known Trina for years, I swear that woman is Bipolar. One minute she's happy and in a joking mood, then some minor inconvenience ticks her off and everyone's a target. Fuck, am I starving." Star halted as she looked around. "You wanna go for Greg's? I want tomato soup and coffee." Star rummaged through her purse whisking out a 20. "I'll pay this round huh?"

"No. I'm paying. Keep your cash." I nudged her as we crossed the street. "Mack come off it, I get you try to act like the strong and silent masculine lesbian here but let me pay for once. I feel like you're paying me for nothing." Star's hand dipped into mine as the traffic lights allowed us to walk. At first, I thought she wanted to hold my hand until her hand touched her lips with my cigarette stolen from my hand. I overthought that through.

"Darlin', you're off the clock. You don't need to do anything for me when I offer to pay." I pulled my leather jacket away from my body to adjust the collar. "Nothing huh? Well, I can just be your best friend for the night then huh?" I reached first for the door of Greg's diner, letting Star go first. "Always Star. That's free."

I met Star when I was 18 about 5 years ago when I first moved to LA. She was 52 at the time. I met Trina before I met Star. Trina got me a job at the nightclub as a bus girl at first, I moved up to a waitress then when I turned 21, I got to become a full-time bartender. I was working my first shift as a bartender, the place was packed. Everyone's face began to blur 2 hours in until I saw Star. She was glowing, with these little metallic star stickers on her cheeks. She had some lanky, baby-faced boy attached to her at the hip. Asking for a glass of white wine and a bottle of beer. We both chatted up and the man-child got angry. I didn't realize what line of work Star was in until I heard the man-child's words. 'Honey, I paid for 2 hours! You wanna stop showing off and start blowing me off?!' I got mad over the way he grabbed Star's arm. I never leaped over a counter faster than I did that night. Charging at him, practically throwing him into a table with a couple of punches in. Star got her money and stayed near me the rest of the night. We became friends instantly. Funnily enough, we also found out as I offered to walk her home that were lived in the same apartment complex. We lived three doors away from each other. It was as though we meant to know each other.

"You want our usual spot Honey-bun?" Star's heels made a strange noise as the ground changed from cement to brown lament. Greg's Diner was our usual hangout. Though, Greg's was Star's thing before it became mine. The upholstery on each seat was red velour from the 80s. So worn down from years of use and burnt from cigarette holes. I swear this is the only and last place you could smoke inside in Los Angeles.

Star rushed over to our usual booth. Nestled in the corner of the diner. Star liked it because she could watch her surroundings, I liked it for another reason. I sat across from Star. I had no distractions other than to stare at her. Watch how she constantly fixes her hair, thinking it isn't perfect even though the way I saw it, her hair already was. Star was perfect. Everything about her was anything but perfection. Except...for the elephant in the room. Her job.

"You see they got new waiters? Young huh?" Star adjusted herself in the booth, peeling off her fur coat from her peachy-toned shoulders. She had more freckles on her shoulders than normal. I kept begging her to wear at least a dime-sized amount of sunscreen. It fell on deaf ears. Don't get me wrong, I adored her little freckles, but it did worry me some days. The heat radiates off her body after these types of nights. Wore down, even into the morning when we crossed paths. I just wish I could help her.

"Young? What am I then?" I flagged down one of the waiters as Star raised her bag to lay it on the table beside the window. "Now, now." She giggled. "You're not 18 anymore, they're babies." She gushed watching the youngin scurrying around like a bunch of headless chickens. "So what? I look road hard and put away wet?" The waiter came to our booth, said the mandatory greeting and took our order. Star ordered a bowl of tomato soup and black coffee with sugar. They didn't offer vegan substitutions for cream so Star always suffered. Funnily enough, I thought of possibly buying a small carton of vegan milk. For how often we come here, it's something to think of. I felt bad ordering meat in front of Star, but she kept reassuring me it was fine. That she was okay with it. I ordered their classic beef dip. Their fries are seasoned like a chef has Parkinson's, every fry is seasoned deliciously. The gravy was thick and actually tasted like beef. And the au jus is immaculate. Just thinking about the toasted bread dipped in the au jus makes my mouth water.

"Haha! Mack, I was just saying you don't look that young anymore. You do look young but you've matured. You hold yourself differently than they do. I still remember your baby face behind the bar counter shaking like a leaf." As Star's words whispered out, the waiter came back with a black coffee and a beer in a bottle. Star forgot the sugar packets were in a dish beside her purse, and I was surprised over the fact our waiter remembered to pop the cap off my beer bottle.

"Yeah, I think that thing you called 'matured' is stress" My shoulders raised as I pulled the bottle close to my chest. Star shook the sugar packet against her hand until she ripped it open to pour its contents into her cup. "It's not always this rough baby-doll, you'll get there." Star's hand lifted a spoon to stir. "I'm sorry to say darlin', but when? I'm making enough for rent and other bills, but I...it's just hard. I want a savings account, and what happens if I get hurt? I have no cash for medical bills! And-..."

"Woah, woah now! That's a lot in one go, Mack. It's fine. Here, how about this? We do it the old-fashioned way, we write down your expenses. Probably you can lay off the beer for a bit." Star paused taking hold of my beer as finished mid-sip. "We figure things you can lay off. And then each paycheck, I'll teach you how much you're supposed to put away. And god forbid if you need to go to the hospital, we'll pile money together and start payment plans." Star pushed the bottle back to me as the waiter came back with our food. "I don't want you to do that Star. I'll be okay with you helping me prioritize my finances but not you helping me with medical bills." The food came piping hot. Star's soup was large with a measly packet of crackers. That I'd normally eat, and my beef dip looked as though Jesus made it himself. Hey, there's probably a line cook named Jesus back there and by god, he makes a mean beef dip.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Well, after our late dinner, I needed to loosen my belt. That beef dip hit the spot. Star and I left Greg's after I paid. I had to fight off Star's offer of pay. We exited the diner, and it strangely became colder than we first entered. Though we should've known that would happen, it was 3 a.m. Star's jaw chattered, though with every glance I took, she tried her might to stop.

"Cold are we?" My hand reached over adjusting her coat over her shoulder. "N-no, I'm fine." She continued to chatter. "Fucksake Star, come on. Lemme get us a cab. Uber?"

"No Mack. We only have 4 more blocks left. That's a waste." Star closed her coat, wrapping it around her waist. "H-hurry up." Star grabbed my bicep through my leather jacket. My arm flexed as we both shuffled faster, we made it to the gate that surrounded our apartment complex. We scurried into our complex, across the parking lot where my truck was parked in front of the set of stairs that led to our apartment doors. We both separated, Star turned left to her door as I turned right to my place at the end of the hall. My key felt more warm than my hands as I let myself in.

My place wasn't much, I didn't have decor or an actual bedframe. I had Star help me drag out a wooden pallet from work home as the frame. It wasn't fancy but it was mine. My belongings, my place. I loved coming home and everything was as I left it. Nothing moved, no one to come home to and just start judging me. It was peaceful. My phone broke the silence as it dinged with a text.

*Star*

Thank you for dinner. Sorry If I didn't say it! I was fucking frozen! Lol

*Mack*

It's fine doll, I am too lol. Goodnight <3

I threw my phone landing on my black futon. The first thing I did as soon as I stepped foot is undo my leather belt and rip off my socks. I slipped my feet in my slippers walking over to the kitchen. Still silent. What else could it be? Los Angeles at 3 am might be still noisy to a newbie, but once you get used to it, the measure of noise fades and it's finally quiet. I opened the fridge to see a sight I too used to seeing. Nothing. A few lonely bottles of beer from a 6-pack I bought at the beginning of the week and a few bottled water from a 24-pack I purchased.

"Jesus...I need to get paid." I leaned in the fridge to grab a bottle of beer. I had a butter knife lying beside my fridge. I saw this dude on TikTok, he tapped the cold bottle twice on different areas of the glass then swiped up to pop the cap off. Instinctly, I had to try. All that can go bad is broken glass everywhere. I began to tap the bottom twice, then the middle, and in one fatal swoop, the cap went flying.

"Yes! Fuck yeah!" The pressure from the bottle made the almost bubble over. I celebrated by swiping the bottle up to my lips and taking in a celebratory drink. I noticed my much-enjoyed silence was cut short by the ring of my phone. I prayed it wasn't Trina. Saying something went wrong or chewing me out for doing or not doing something to her degree. I rushed over to retrieve it to see the screen. Thankfully it wasn't, it was Star.

"Star? What's up?"

"Mack, can you come over? Please. I need a little help." Her breaths were short as she spoke. "What's wrong? Is your door unlocked?" I stayed on the phone with her as I rushed over to the front door. "Y-yes..please hurry." I slapped the door running to Star's. I rushed into her place without hesitation. I've been over at Star's so much that we might as well just move in together. That would be the dream. At least for me, I don't know about Star.

"Star? Where are you?" I panicked around like a headless chicken until I heard Star's chopped breaths in her bedroom. Star's apartment looked just like mine in layout, but she had decor. Not much. A white couch, white curtains. She loved white until you reached her bedroom. She had white bedsheets and vintage tables but she always had a little dash of colour. She had a sheer pink cloth draped from her ceiling that hung over her bed. A canopy! That's what they're called.

"There you are! What the hell is wrong?" I saw Star sitting at her vanity, cigarette in hand hanging over a crystal ashtray she loved. "Well, I kinda made a mistake. I went to untie my corset and I think I made it tighter. I can't untie it Mack." She flicked her ash as she wiped her makeup off with a wipe. "Jesus, Star. So you thought smoking would help?"

"Can you give me this lecture later? Just help me take it off." She huffed pushing her cigarette out in the crystal tray. I placed my beer on her vanity next to her makeup wipes. Star had tried her might to untie but the bow had turned into a knot. "Haha fine, you've suffered enough huh?"

"Very much so. I am so tired and sore. I know you don't like me talking about work but fuck Mack. These men think I'm a pretzel. My thighs are killing me." My nail caught onto the knot and I loosened it.

"Haha! But you kinda are Star. I'm 23 and I cannot wrap my ankles around my head but god forbid you still can." The ties unravelled against Star's back, and the corset created an imprint along her bare back stopping in the middle of her spine, whereas the string made its mark along her spine. "Still huh? Tell that to my hips...ha...it's funny. Well, not really if you think about it, but I would rather have my forehead pinned against a car window than in the motels. They're always quicker in cars." Star giggled throwing a makeup wipe in a trash bin, pulling a few glass bottles forward. I knew they were skincare, but the only skincare I knew of was moisturizer, sunscreen and cleanser. Hers looked so foreign to me. Star said I needed something that would make me 'look' less oily.

"Haha," I laughed nervously. "Well that makes sense, carpool lanes can be busy." Star snorted as she rubbed a milky-white serum on her cheeks and forehead trying to raise her eyebrows. "Oh my god shut up." She joked elbowing my hip. All of the strings of her corset were loose enough for her to remove. Star stopped her skin routine to hold the corset against her chest. She stood up kicking off her massive heels. She spun around my body turning her back to face me. She let her arms go off her chest, as the corset dropped to the floor. I peered away swiftly, however, I did take notice of Star's body move in her vanity mirror. The way Star's warm ivory skin radiated from the lightbulbs next to her bed. Her skin was golden silk. Her somewhat nude body always caught my attention. As she silently moved across the laminate floor. Her ruffled underwear slipped off tossing it on the foot of her bed, only wearing her thigh garters. The little cluster of scars on her arm from some freak accident in her childhood showed prominently as she trotted over to a large basket full of clothes. Rummaging her beloved favourites. "So you thought it was a good idea to drink more beer after dinner huh?" Star's eyes met mine in the vanity. I suppose she noticed I was watching her, or she's always known. "To be frank, I may or may not have gotten groceries in a bit." I pivoted my ankles facing Star, stretching my arms out to fetch my beer and taking a sip. Star froze her search in the basket cocking her head over to me. "Are you serious Mack!? I told you Monday you should've come with me to get groceries! What do you have for food?!" Star quit making decisions as she leaned forward for her silk rope slipping it on her arms. "Um..well...I have the rest of my 6 pack of beer."

"I see that Mack. I didn't ask about that, I asked about food." Star slipped her bare feet into a pair of white fuzzy slippers towards me. Her shoulder brushed mine as she ripped bobby pins and elastics out of her hair. "You remember that 24 pack of water from Costco?"

"Jesus Christ Mack! You have to stop doing this. Every month you do this, you scrimp and save thinking something bad will happen but you refuse to buy groceries!" Star clenched her hands on either side of my biceps giving me a small shake. "Haha...come on doll, I just forgot. That's all." I pulled away from her arms. Star huffed as her eyes rolled back. "Fine! But, you're going grocery shopping with me tomorrow." Star ushered me out of her room to the living room. Star bent her arm beside the coffee table to grab the tv remote. "You want to finish that show we were watching?" The TV light glowed with the Netflix logo popped up.

I hate to say Star was never confrontational with me, but she was. We would bicker over things but it would never escalate. She's normally a bubbly and cheery personality, though, I've seen Star drag a John 3 blocks by his ankles to an ATM. She has her moments and uses them wisely. "Sure, but I thought you didn't like it? Too scary for you remember?"

"For me yes, you had one more episode but I'm in the mood for toast. You want a slice?" Star sauntered to her little kitchenette for bread and perhaps peanut butter. I hope.

"Sure, why not. What harm can bread do before bed." I slumped into Star's well-loved white couch. Its grooves made my ass a permanent residence known all too well. I left the right corner for Star, as I knew if I dared to sit there I would be scooched immediately.

"Mack, I think you get nightmares from eating sugar before bed, not bread." Star chuckled dropping two pieces of toast in the toaster. In a thankful sight, I saw the smooth peanut butter. Star and I both agree Chunky Peanut is god-awful.

"You may be right, but I swear last time I ate peanut butter toast this late I had that one dream of that freaky amputee girl, you remember? With the glass eye?"

"Haha! Coco! I knew she freaked you out. What kind of dream?"

"Yeah, she freaks me the fuck out. High on fent and wobbling around on a makeshift leg, that girl can cause carpet burn on that broom handle."

"Mack!"

"Haha, I'm just saying that woman was rode hard and put away wet. Anyway, I always have the same nightmare that I'm walking home from work, looking for you and Coco comes up behind me. The chick comes running at me like Usain Bolt." I leaned back onto the couch as I saw Star come around with two plates.

"Maybe you need to take a new route." Star plobbed herself in her usual spot. As she handed me a plate. "Maybe you need a new job Star." My show began without a hitch as Star rustled around to get comfortable. "Mack," She sighed. "Darling in a perfect world that can work, but honey, I'm 57 years old. I've been doing this work since I was your age. I don't know how to do anything else." She muttered as she bit into the corner of her toast.

"I know honey, but there are alternatives. I just don't want you to get hurt." I finished my slice of toast quicker than Star, I leaned forward to place the plate on the coffee table. I slumped back into the cushions stretching my arms out on the backrest. "You're such a worrier. That's all you do. You're too young to worry so much."

"Yeah, I guess so." I huffed, as I held my tongue back. What I wanted to say could throw Star off. She wanted a best friend, I wanted her for more. So much more.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The ending to my show was shit. The entire series was gory and full of horror, so why is it the last goddamn episode has to be so mushy and lovey-dovey. Star actually liked it. Well, half of it that is. She fell asleep mid-way. Curled up resting her head on the armrest. I slowly got up from my spot not to wake her. Star says she doesn't snore, but I beg to differ. They're faint, but her snores are cute. Especially when she's in a good sleep and you notice a little drool. I picked up our plates bringing them to the sink. I tried my best to quietly turn the faucet to wash the dishes. I didn't want Star to wake up to anything dirty. I nested them into her drying rack as I flicked on the overhead stove light. I tip-toed back to where Star was asleep, turning off the TV. I made my way to the front door before rethinking that decision. I halted to see Star's hands were locked between her thighs. I bet she was cold in her robe. I got close enough to Star to grab the white throw blanket draped on the couch, unfolding it to lay across her. Making sure her feet were covered as well.

I wanted to stay with her, I wanted to kiss her forehead. I had to stop myself before I did something I'd regret. Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was just me. Being me. I cannot help it, Star's everything to me.

"Goodnight Star," I whispered before opening the door. I locked the door before I left Star's apartment. The cold night air hit me roughly enough to lose my breath. I ran back to my unlocked apartment locking up for the night.

"Luxury is not a necessity to me, but beautiful and good things are." - Anaïs Nin 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What do you think Divus was like during his student years in NRC?

Personally I think he was a mixture of Ace, Cater, and Vil. A mischievous troublemaker who was also trendy and sociable with a good fashion sense. Since he is the potion and science teacher, I think he was in Pomefiore.

Also I don’t know if this is true or not, but I heard somewhere that Divus mentioned that he was always followed by two lackeys, who I have no doubt are the twisted versions of Jasper and Horace.

We actually already know some things about Crewel's student days from canon (mainly taken from his Unified Exams voice lines and/or from Happy Beans Day):

Trein was a teacher at NRC when Crewel was a student. They didn’t get along (Crewel was not enthusiastic to see Trein still teaching at NRC), but Trein is credited with teaching Crewel to respect his elders. They continue to bicker, usually passive aggressively and cheekily from Crewel’s end.

Trein says that Beansfest got out of hand during the time Crewel was studying there, which led to there being stricter rules imposed for the current iteration of Beansfest. (It is not known if Crewel himself contributed to that aforementioned chaotic run.)

There was an incident when student!Crewel accidentally overturned a pot of mandrakes. Their screams shattered all the glass in the Alchemy workshop.

Trein says that Crewel used to get into many fights.

Crewel tells us what he wasn’t as rowdy as the kids are nowadays.

He describes himself as a high performing student.

He’s still in contact with two of his “henchmen” (ie his juniors) that he met back in school. Crewel says they aren’t clever, but that he can be himself around them; he also trusts them to dogsit for him. These two men are most likely twisted versions of Cruella’s hired help, Jasper and Horace.

From what we know of the canon, here are some conclusions I've personally drawn:

Knowing Trein and Crewel's current relationship (they disagree on trivial things like whether cats or dogs are better; it gets Trein riled up), I assume that they've never really gotten along. Perhaps Crewel was a constant sore spot for Trein or was frequently reprimanded for his behavior in spite of having excellent grades.

Crewel has a voice line in which he advises the player to not wholly devote their efforts to studying and keeping their head down, or else they will become inflexible as adults. He also advises them to “go wild once in a while”, but not so wild that professors will scold you. This makes me think that Crewel had a similar attitude when he was a student himself. That is to say, he was a good student, but also had his rebellious streaks and moments of acting out. Maybe he went too far sometimes, which is why he now informs the player to not cause trouble for their teachers in the pursuit of seeking thrills or a break from their studies.

As the sender has mentioned, Crewel has good fashion sense and currently teaches science courses, meaning he must be proficient in the area. These traits make him a suitable ex-Pomefiore student, as that dorm tends to have students that enjoy aesthetics and excel in potion-making. (This is also the popular headcanon within the fandom.

Crewel has what I would call “refined” tastes and interests, such as sports cars. I feel like he also had this discerning eye for quality and trends as a student.

Crewel is strong-headed and asserts himself well. He walks into a room and just commands it. Because of this, I see him easily being kind of a “leader of the pack” kind of guy—a cool, charismatic person that others can’t help but follow or admire, even if they hate his guts or find him pretentious. I don’t know if I would call him friendly (like, I don’t see him as outgoing), but rather he’s just got a magnetic presence that attracts people to him and definitely knew how to navigate a complex social web.

He gives me the impression that lots of his classmates looked up to him or called him “aniki” (as a sign of respect) 😂 (Twisted Jasper and Horace definitely do this www)

Sometimes I feel like Crewel’s leadership capabilities weren’t used for the… best purposes? Like I’m sure he had his spats of immaturity and led his boys to pull off some stupid pranks or fights or whatever. Maybe they put Lucius in a tree so they can all get out of an exam while Trein is looking for his familiar?? But then they all get an earful about it later… That’s just one example off the top of my head!

The student!Crewel I picture is a lot like Vil in many ways, but stands on his own due to his wild side. Someone who is cool, confident, fashionable… with his own set of rules and a slight edge to him that isn’t very Vil-like.

I hope that sufficiently explained my thoughts ^^

[goooofy-goooober1121]

HII I love your work!! I was asking if u could do a Viktor x reader where they’re just enjoying their time together as academy students. I don’t mind it being gender neutral but female is preferred as well. I hope you’re having a great summer 💕💕💕🙌🏾🙌🏾💝💝🌺🌺‼️‼️👅👅👅

HEHEHE HI ANON MY SUMMER IS GREAT I HOPE YOURS IS TOO <3

Requests Are Open!

Reblogs Always Appreciated!

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Tags: Fem!Reader, STEM major reader, Chemistry trash talk, Viktor's european ass does not tan he burns, sort of academic rivals for a sec? Reader wears a skirt and lip gloss. No other specified features for Reader she's all yours for projecting <3 also she talks about ingesting poison to get out of chem work (same girl) Oh and lowkey corny, down HORRENDOUS Viktor. uhhh yeah overall just fluffy and such :3

Two Types of Chemistry

Viktor always thought the Academy would offer him more to life than Zaun could. 

Opportunity, he reasoned. Maths and sciences, languages and histories from around the world. It would teach him everything he needed to know, and more; the best coffee combinations for late nights, the best shortcuts for when his body ached and hissed like a feral feline at physical strain…

And, as you so confidently asserted, the best companion for studying the absolutely horrid material that your general chemistry professor assigned you both.  

Appropriately challenging material, Viktor had reasoned. 

Torture from a professor who hates her students, you answered. 

You had insisted on reviewing the material for your upcoming final exam outside on the campus green. The weather was nice; the sky was clear, the temperature was the perfect balance between warm and cool, the sun’s rays kissed your cheeks, and the grass cradled your bodies like a mother would her infant. 

Fresh air, you told him, would counteract the toxins forcibly shoved down your throats as you recited thermodynamic laws, solubility rules, and acid-base chemistry values. 

“I’m going to burn,” Viktor huffed, shuffling himself beneath the shade of the green’s long-standing oak tree. “I will emerge roasted and red and it will be all your fault.”

“Red like litmus paper when it’s used in an acid,” you answered, nodding solemnly as you scribbled it down into your notebook.

Viktor rolled his eyes, scoffing with no real annoyance. He turned to his own notebook, tapping his pen in his left hand as he scrutinized his own notes. “If you doubled the concentration of a reactant,” he began, “and determined the order of the reaction to be third order, how many times must the rate have increased?”

“Eight,” you answered, not looking up from your notes. “The Ostwald process converts ammonia to nitric oxide by reaction with oxygen in the presence of a catalyst at high temperatures. A vessel is initially charged with 4.80 moles of gaseous ammonia and 5.80 moles of oxygen gas is sealed and heated at a fixed high temperature. When equilibrium is established the reaction mixture is analyzed and found to contain 3.80 moles gaseous nitric oxide. What is the quantity of ammonia gas in the equilibrium reaction mixture?”

Viktor scribbled for a moment in his book before replying. “One mole. A thirty-five liter vessel at 700 Kelvin initially contains hydrogen iodide gas at a pressure of 5.80 atmospheres; at equilibrium, it is found that the partial pressure of hydrogen gas is 0.56 atmospheres. What is the partial pressure of hydrogen iodide at equilibrium?”

“4.68.”

“4.68…?” 

You tossed an eraser at him. “Quit pestering me for units.” 

He flinched away from the piece of rubber, laughing lightly. “What? You will need them or our professor will count your answer as incorrect.”

“Fine. 4.68 atmospheres.”

“There you go.”

It went on like that for a good while, bouncing chemical complexities off of each other like you were playing a game of twenty questions. That’s one of the things that had encapsulated Viktor about you since the day you met (once he got over the chagrin of you answering a question before he could in your shared physics lecture). You were undoubtedly brilliant, and once you two got over the sparks of competition, you both discovered you made quite the pair. 

That was, until the immovable object called ‘your need for a break’ clashed with the unstoppable force of Viktor’s work ethic. 

You tapped out after the fifth round of questioning— Le Chatelier’s principle followed by a set of buffer equations— flopping comfortably onto the grass. Your skirt fluttered around your knees as you did, landing softly back onto your thighs like leaves from an abscising tree. 

“I’ve had enough,” you groaned. “I can’t do it anymore. Someone needs to feed me carbon triple bonded to nitrogen.”

“Chemistry is not so severely hellish that you need to ingest cyanide,” Viktor huffed, noting something down in his notebook. 

“Maybe for you.”

He spared a glance down at you and found his eyes never left. 

Looking at you, laying in the sun like that— the way your lashes brushed your cheeks, the way the warm light made your skin glow incandescently, the way your lip gloss shimmered like sweet fruit juice on your lips, and the way your hair sprouted like flowers, his favorite flowers, from the holy halo of your head— it made him stop and simply stare. 

You were picturesque, a work of art that none of the most brilliant artists in the Academy could ever hope to recreate. He wished, for those silent seconds, that this moment could remain a perfect photograph in his mind; that he could file it away in the deepest recesses of his memory, manufacturing a mental place of worship where your image could be sanctified for as long as he could manage cognition. 

And when the day comes when he is old and gray and forgetting, and the inner machinations of his brilliance begin rusting and creaking at their joints, he knows that you— unforgettable, radiant, exuberant you— will remain forever untouched in that mystical, sacred hideaway of his memory; a girl shining like gold, held dear to his heart until the day he meets his end. 

It struck him, then, heart turning in his chest like the sun does in the sky. 

The Academy could teach him plenty of things: maths, sciences, languages, histories; study strategies, resilience, how to run on three hours of sleep and a prayer. 

It couldn’t teach how it felt to feel the warmth of care. Of gentleness. Of embrace and compassion and laughter. 

So Viktor moved, groaning softly as his hip clicked and his leg stiffly protested, to move from his shady spot and lay beside you in the sunshine and grass. If you were the teacher, he decided, he’d learn those things a million times over. 

You turned your face to his, but he was already looking. 

“You’re going to burn,” you reminded him softly.

“Sunlight is good for the mind,” he answered, eyes flitting, just for a moment, to your lips. “Serotonin. Vitamin D. Circadian rhythm and such. I could stand a few minutes.”

You smiled. How he loved that smile. “Yeah? You’ll risk getting all crusty and achey and peely?”

“Yes.” 

His reply came quickly, breathlessly.

“So long as it is with you.”

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

A/N: can you tell I hate gen chem.

[elysiansparadise]

i luv ur work.💌

can u pls do neptune in the 8th ?

Thanks for loving my work, love! 💗

Neptune in the 8th house

I consider it crucial to start mentioning how skilled these individuals are in sensing, intuiting or detecting when something is off. They have a highly developed intuition as well as a natural ability to decipher any type of thing that seems uncertain or unclear. You can never lie to them, because they possess the mixture of impeccable intuition and sharp observation. They are emotionally deep people, very sensitive to the environments and people they interact with. They are very compassionate and empathetic people, capable of feeling the pain of others very closely. Many times they fear their own emotional intensity, because they know themselves very well in that aspect, which makes them very cautious when it comes to opening up because they fear that people will take advantage of their emotional vulnerability, their devotion and heart. It is very likely that throughout their lives they have experienced betrayals, ones that led them to close down emotionally and not be so patient and soft with the wrong people. It should be added that there is the possibility of going through intense emotional and spiritual transformations, which, although challenging, could also be deeply healing and revealing.

What seems misunderstood, taboo or complex usually catches their attention. They enjoy getting to the bottom of things and it is common for these natives to question themselves existentially and spiritually. They may have an attraction toward esoteric themes, such as tarot or similar. Many of them can find healing through spiritual or unconventional methods for the worldly person. Likewise, when they begin their path through spirituality it is due to difficult or painful experiences, and they can find relief in this field. Many of these natives have the ability to heal and transform not only other’s moods, but also something deeper like their lives. It is very likely that they may have strong spiritual beliefs about life after death and may be interested in exploring, investigating and learning more about these ideas. There is a complex relationship with their dreams, as these natives can obtain clear or meaningful messages with them. In addition to this, they can be people very in touch with their subconscious, even being able to develop [or simply be born] with some spiritual gift.

There is something enigmatic about them, something that simply makes you not stop seeing them, the mixture of mystery, sensuality and that sensitivity that, although they do not show it, can be observed in their mannerisms and once you get to know them better. They look for deep emotional connections, superficial things not only scare them, but bore them. They seek to love someone completely, to give themselves and for the other person to give themselves too. Being one with your partner is crucial, precisely the reason why intimate encounters are a visit to paradise, a bit of heaven to which you can become addicted. They not only make you feel desired or like the most attractive being in the world, they make you feel heard, understood, seen. They seek to know those sides of you that you are ashamed of, not to judge you, rather to be able to love you completely. Internally, they look for that same devotion from their partners, someone who loves them with the same intensity with which they are capable of loving. 

-> Go back to the masterlist

[xomakara]

Roomies With Benefits

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You have no choice but to be roommates with San when there is a glitch in the leasing office’s system. The more time that you live together, the more that you both can’t help but want each other. PAIRING | San x Reader GENRE | non-idol!San, College AU, Roommate trope, fake dating trope, smut with some plot, protected sex (wrap it up everyone!), vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI LENGTH | 7,380 words TAGLIST | -- NETWORKS | AUTHOR’S NOTE | I would not mind living with San (or any of the other members) if there was a glitch in the system. LOL. Hope you all enjoy, reblog, like, comment~ Love you all ❤️

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

"There has to be misunderstanding," You looked at the management team of your apartment complex. "There's no way that you could lease the unit to two people who signed two different leases at different times. Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"My system shows that both you and Mr Choi are on the lease..." The manager searched for something on his tablet. "I will double check with my secretary to confirm if everything is correct. We should have an answer by tomorrow afternoon. Until then, can you and Mr Choi share the unit?"

You shook your head. There was no way that you'd share the apartment with Choi San, the most popular guy on campus and your arch rival since freshman year. Okay, sure he was stupidly, insanely hot with a sexy brain to boot but he wasn't someone you would ever let into your personal space, much less share the same living space.

There was also the small fact that he was one of the most eligible bachelors at school and always getting girls all over him. He had dated many of them before they got tired of playing second fiddle to his social life or wanted to get closer to his family money. You had seen him flirting with women during lunch, talking to his other stupidly, insanely hot friends about how he couldn't wait to bang yet another girl later that night. Every time he turned around, some new girl was ogling at him and that infuriated you.

Not that you hadn't had your fair share of guys sliding into your DMs just because they were interested in you, trying to impress you with expensive gifts or showing up on campus with roses, candy and other 'cute' things just to see you smile and notice them. Sure you were the Queen Bee on campus, even with barely any effort on your part, but that didn't mean you needed everyone else telling you how pretty and desirable you were, did it?

No. You were perfectly fine being single, thank you very much.

But it seemed like this misunderstanding would force you to spend more time together. How terrible.

"Let's just share the apartment for one night." San spoke up, the manager giving him a small nod. "Tomorrow, we expect answers."

You walked out of the management office, a scowl on your face as you waited for the elevator. San was by your side, tapping his foot impatiently while keeping an eye on your reactions. You were tired and just didn't feel like arguing with him right now.

"Let's just get to the apartment and figure something out." San muttered next to you. "It's probably not a big deal."

You sighed. "If only it were that simple." You tried to find the quickest route to the apartment unit so you could get away from him.

The last thing you needed right now was to come across San and a lot of sexual tension going through the roof, only making you more irritable than you already were. You hated how badly you wanted him, hated yourself for reacting the way you did whenever he was near you. It was disgusting, embarrassing and it made you want to punch the wall.

Shit. This was bad. Really bad.

San noticed the look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said as you approached the front door and opened it. You looked at the boxes that littered the living room area, both yours and his mingled together in a weird mixture of feminine and masculine decor.

He sighed and followed you inside. "Are you sure you're okay? Everything seems fine to me. What's the problem?"

"We need to share this apartment tonight." You stated matter-of-factly. "That means I'll be sleeping here with you. By tomorrow, the whole campus is going to talk about how the Queen Bee and Alpha Male hooked up. No way can that happen. My reputation is on the line."

"And what do you care about your reputation?" He asked, walking towards you. You backed up against the door, causing him to stop.

"You know I care about my image." You snapped back. "Besides, I've worked too hard to maintain my social status for me to lose it because of a mistake."

His eyes narrowed as he took in your features. His nostrils flared slightly, his gaze darkening with every passing second. You knew what he was doing and you wished you could say something, stop him from approaching you and taking you against the door like a predator chasing down its prey.

Your heartbeat accelerated and your body started to react in ways you never expected, long buried desires resurfacing once again, feelings stirring deep within your heart.

If he touched you right now, you wouldn't fight him. You'd let him take you and fuck you into oblivion until neither of you could walk. All you cared about was his lips on your neck, his hands running along your hips and thighs, your fingers entwined with his. You'd be content to go slow and explore your bodies for hours, waiting for the moment when he finally plunged into you, thrusting hard and fast until you couldn't take anymore.

Instead, you were stuck with San, who was staring at you with his hot brown eyes, and even though he didn't touch you, the longing in his stare burned hotter than the fire raging behind his irises. You were powerless to do anything but stand there, watching him silently and hoping that he would finally make his move.

But he didn't. He turned away and gestured to the door of the bedroom. "Take the room. I'll sleep on the couch tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow we can find out why there was a mix-up and we won't have to worry about this shit anymore."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" You asked hesitantly. He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he stared at you intently.

"Yeah, take it." San nodded. "Despite all the things you hear about me on campus, I don't go around sleeping with women without their consent. Even you, Queen Bee. I respect that. Just take the room."

"Thank you." You breathed softly, thankful for his generosity and maturity. With a slight sigh, you walked towards the bedroom and closed the door behind you. You locked it and crawled onto the bed, pulling the blanket over your body and laying there for a few seconds before turning off the lights.

You lay on the bed for a few minutes, wondering what had gotten into San. Why did he suddenly act so mature? And was it really possible that you weren't imagining things earlier? Did he actually desire you as well?

It felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders. Yes, maybe it was a mix-up and the leasing office really did mess up your contracts. Maybe, just maybe, everything would work out just fine.

With those thoughts filling your mind, you fell asleep quickly.

You woke up slowly, disoriented from the light pouring into the room. Your heart raced as your eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Slowly opening your eyes, you blinked several times, your eyes adjusting to the unfamiliar ceiling above you.

Getting up and unlocking the door to the bedroom to make your way to the kitchen, you looked at San's figure as he snoozed away on the couch. The covers were pulled up to his chin and his shirt was partially undone, exposing a sliver of chestnut skin.

For a moment, you just stood there and watched him sleep, the excitement from yesterday still lingering on your skin.

You started up the coffee machine, brewed a fresh pot and made your way to one of the boxes in the living one that had your clothes packed in. Careful to not wake San up, you closed the bathroom door behind you and locked it so that you could shower in peace.

After taking a quick shower, you dried yourself off and put on your clothes. You made your way back to the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of coffee, adding a spoonful of sugar to sweeten it a little. As you sipped on the delicious black liquid, you leaned against the counter and browsed on your phone. A minute passed before you heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor, followed by a yawn.

"Good morning." San said with a soft smile as you poured him a cup of coffee and slid it towards him.

"Morning." You replied. "After you get ready for the day, let's go down to the leasing office and see what they say."

"Sure." He said as he gulped down half his coffee, eyes trained on your form as you took another sip. You knew exactly what was going through his head and you didn't think he was going to be able to hide it from you anytime soon. The expression on his face was clear evidence that he liked what he saw.

About half an hour later, you and San both made your way to the leasing office. Walking past the crowds of students that congregated outside the main building, you arrived at the office and entered the queue. After a short wait, you finally reached the front desk and signed your name on the sign-in sheet.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience." The manager apologized again as he looked at you and San. "Unfortunately, there was a glitch in the system and I'm afraid that our records show that we mistakenly assigned you the same unit."

"There's no other units that are available? Not even in a different location?" San inquired, a frown etched across his brow.

"There's nothing left." The manager shook his head. "All the other units have already been filled by other students that are no longer living in the dorms, sorority or frat houses."

"When is the next available unit?" You asked, putting on your best poker face. "How long will it take for us to get one?"

The manager paused for a moment, seemingly torn between wanting to tell you that there wasn't another unit available and being worried about offending you by saying so. "I'm so very sorry but there won't be any available units until the next school year. You may have to find someplace else to live if you cannot accept that."

"That won't be necessary." San interrupted. "I'm sure Miss Y/N and I will figure something out."

"That's good." The manager gave you a sympathetic smile before looking back at San. "Well, if you need anything at all, please let me know. If you need help finding a new place, I'm happy to assist."

San nodded and gave the man a polite smile before turning towards you. "We should go. Let's head back to the apartment."

You followed him back to the elevator, ignoring all the curious glances that the both of you attracted. Some people didn't know why you two were sharing an apartment, others were just trying to catch a glimpse of San and you, others were already forming their opinions and thoughts of the two hottest people on campus and if they were really dating. Either way, everyone wanted to know the answers to these questions.

By the time you got to the apartment unit, the sun had almost set and nightfall was upon you. Both of you dumped your bags inside the apartment and decided to sit down on the couch.

"So..." San said, breaking the silence. "I guess we're going to spend our last year of university in the same unit..."

You nodded. "Yep."

"Let's try to work something out. Why don't you continue to stay in the bedroom and I'll stay on the couch for the time being?"

"I can't let you sleep on the couch forever, San." You protested.

"Then just let me stay in the bedroom until we find another solution." He suggested. "Unless you don't want to share the bed with me either?"

"I-I'm fine with sharing." You stammered out, avoiding eye contact with him. There was a nervous twitch dancing on the end of your lips as you felt your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" San asked, bringing your attention back to him. His eyes flickered from side to side, peeking at your lips before landing on your eyes.

"Oh...nothing." You mumbled, averting your gaze. "I can already hear the rumours..."

"Then why don't we just date?" San suggested. "At least to the public. No one will bat an eye if we said that we moved in together because after being a couple for a few months. But in private, we'll just be two roommates. Nothing more."

"Maybe...maybe we should do that." You murmured softly. Your cheeks grew redder and your voice was barely audible. You could feel your heart pounding loudly in your chest as your pulse raced in anticipation of what San would say next.

"I promise I won't touch you unless you ask me to." San said softly. "And I won't demand anything sexual from you."

You swallowed heavily, biting your lip as you met San's intense gaze. "You...you're sure?"

"Of course I am." He said firmly. "I don't want to pressure you into doing anything that you aren't comfortable with. So I'll leave it up to you."

Tilting your head to the side, you tried to decide how to respond. If this was truly the only option you had, then perhaps dating San would work out. “Okay, fine.” You sighed, giving in. “We’ll try it. But if I ever start feeling uncomfortable or I don’t want to date you anymore, you better not hold it against me.”

"Deal, now why don't we start unpacking?" San suggested, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. "This is going to be our home for the next year. Let's make it a nice home, okay?"

He was right. This would be your home for the next year and you should make the most of it. Putting aside your worries for the moment, you grabbed your bag and followed San into the bedroom. Once you had unpacked your stuff, you sat down on the edge of the bed while San sorted out the rest of his belongings. You both then moved to the living room and settled on opposite sides of the couch.

"I can already see the look on your friends' faces when we tell them that we're 'dating'. They probably think that we're crazy and that we're playing games. They'll see right through us." You remarked.

"Then should we practice on making it look real?" San asked. "Or is that asking too much?"

“I don’t think I have it in me.” You shrugged. “But if it makes you feel better…”

With a smile plastered across his face, San leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. It wasn’t overly romantic and it was brief, but it showed enough of his intentions to get you to agree to his plan. You hadn’t expected that kissing him would make you feel tingly inside, but your stomach fluttered as he pressed his lips to yours. You could taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue and you couldn’t help but pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Before you knew it, you found yourself pinned to the sofa by San, unable to move or resist his grip.

"Y/N..." San whispered hoarsely. "Do you want to stop this or...?"

"I...don't know..." You confessed, not wanting to lie. "We can keep kissing...but nothing else tonight."

He looked into your eyes, a brief smile gracing his beautiful lips. "Okay, I could deal with only kissing." He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the idea. "Though...if you change your mind, just give me a sign and I'll stop immediately."

Relieved, you smiled softly at San before nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'll let you know."

"Okay, then I'm going to kiss you some more." San purred, leaning in once again. "If you tell me to stop, I will."

His lips descended slowly over yours, igniting your body with passion. He tasted like coffee and mint toothpaste and he smelled amazing. His hands explored your waistline, slipping under the material of your shirt. All you wanted was to feel San’s skin against yours. To feel every inch of his muscular frame pressed against you. To inhale the scent of his cologne and bask in the warmth radiating off his body. With those thoughts in mind, you leaned forward and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him tighter against you.

Your kisses became deeper, your breathing erratic as you moaned louder than you intended. Your hips arched upwards, pressing against San's crotch. A small groan escaped his throat as you began kissing him harder, your breath hot and ragged against his ear.

You weren't aware that your fingernails dug into his scalp as you felt him push against you, trying to make you moan louder. "Y/N..." San moaned as you bit down on his earlobe, sending chills down your spine. "We should stop...while we can."

You lifted your head, panting heavily as you gazed at San. "Yeah, yeah we should stop." You agreed, trying to steady your heartbeat.

Damn, living with San was going to be interesting.

That night you laid in bed under the covers as you turned your head to watch San snoozed next to you on top of the covers. You stared at his sleeping form for several minutes before realizing that you were staring at him. You smiled softly as you layed back down, curling up beside him. After a few moments, San opened his eyes and gazed at you.

"Are you awake?" He asked quietly.

"Mmhmm, yes I am." You responded softly. "Hard to sleep with someone lying next to you isn't it?"

San rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "It certainly can be." He murmured. "But I've been doing it for so long that I just kind of accepted it."

"I guess I haven't gotten used to having someone next to me yet." You commented with a small chuckle.

"The Queen Bee is not used to having someone next to her?" San teased. "How strange."

Shaking your head, you smiled. "No, not at all. I know I get plenty of male attention being the Queen Bee on campus but I just turn everyone down. I guess it's because I prefer spending my time alone. Besides, the guys who are attracted to me are creeps anyway."

"I'm attracted to you." San chuckled. "Does that make me a creep?"

"There's no way you're attracted to me, Choi San." You replied, shaking your head again. "I'm not exactly your type."

"Who says you're not my type?" He countered. "All the other girls that try to get into my pants? You don't think I notice you?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes at San's persistence. He was determined to prove his point, despite the fact that you still disagreed with him. "Look, I'm flattered that you think I'm attractive but-"

"No, Y/N." San interrupted. "Just hear me out. You're beautiful, smart and funny. Plus, you don't put up with any crap from anyone. Do you know how rare that is?"

For the first time since San spoke, you stopped to think about his words. "Am I really that special?" You asked.

"You're pretty damn special, actually." San admitted. "I don't know why you don't think you're attractive if half the student body and myself fall at your feet."

Laughing lightly, you shook your head. "I think I'd rather spend my time alone than get wrapped up in relationships." You decided. "Besides, I'm not interested in hook ups."

"You didn't say that when we kissed earlier." San pointed out.

"I-it was different!" You protested. "A kiss doesn't mean I want to have sex with you!"

San smirked. "Why did you kiss me then? Just to test the waters?"

Blushing bright red, you ducked your head low as San reached out and gently stroked your cheek. "Not necessarily..." You muttered, glancing away.

"Don't be embarrassed by what happened earlier." San said, placing a finger underneath your chin and lifting your head. "I liked kissing you and I know you like kissing me too. If you don't want to do anything else tonight, then that's fine with me. But you need to at least admit that there's something between us."

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears as you fought back the desire to lean forward and kiss him. "So what do you suggest we do instead?" You asked.

"Well..." San trailed off. "There is one thing I've always wanted to do with you."

"Oh?" You asked.

"Mmhm." San nodded. "I was hoping that maybe you'd let me kiss you again."

A grin tugged at the corner of your mouth as you watched San's face light up. "I'm not opposed to another kiss." You admitted. "But..."

"But?" San prompted.

"I was thinking..." You trailed off, trying to find the right words. "Maybe we could just go slow and enjoy each other's company."

San regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, I can do that." He said. "Tonight's the first night we live together so it'll be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other. We can take things easy and see where they lead us."

You placed a hand on San's cheek, tracing his soft features with your thumb. "I like the sound of that." You told him. "Now you can kiss me."

For the remainder of the night, you were lost in his kisses.

It had been several weeks since you and San started living together as roommates. In the comfort of your own home, the both of you led your private lives away from the prying eyes of others. Nowadays, the both of you would talk for hours on end about your day or complain about the latest episode of your favourite drama. You never thought that being able to converse with someone was such a relief, especially after a stressful week at work or class.

When the both of you were out in public together, you both played your parts as a couple convincingly. You'd hold hands with San, kiss him, blush when his hand slid lower than where it needed to be and even grab onto his arm whenever the conversation turned serious. Even San's friends were convinced that the both of you were dating and no one batted an eye when you came out of the bathroom in the middle of the party to hug San, accidentally brushing your breast against his arm or when he would wrap an arm around your waist to pull you close to him and kiss your forehead.

Friends would ask about your sex life but you clearly didn't have one. At least not yet. You were content spending the night in bed telling each other stories or just cuddling while watching television. Exchanging kisses every now and then but making sure to limit yourselves to making out and no further. It wasn't that you didn't want to have sex with San, it was just that you weren't ready for a relationship at this point in your life. Not to mention that you didn't want to rush into anything. If you took your time getting to know San better, it would make everything less awkward when the time finally came.

And then San's friend Wooyoung wanted to throw a small get-together at the apartment.

"Why does everyone want to throw a party here?" You complained as you walked into the kitchen. "Can't anyone take care of their own parties?"

"Scared that everyone will find out?" San teased you.

"How will they find out when our apartment has both of our stuff scattered everywhere?" You mumbled. "Our apartment literally looks like a couple. If anyone steps into the bedroom, I will murder someone."

San chuckled as he stood beside you, handing you a cup of tea. "I know you'd rather be curled up on the couch with a book but let's try to keep appearances up tonight. Okay?"

You sighed, taking the offered cup. "Fine."

Wooyoung had invited all of his friends and a few girls from the campus. Although you didn't want to mingle with the others, you did it for San's sake. But as the night progressed, you became increasingly bored. Most of the guys in attendance were there to ogle over the attractive women but San stuck close to you the entire time. The girls, on the other hand, kept flirting and vying for San's attention but he refused them all politely.

He only had eyes for you.

Sighing, you excused yourself from the room to use the restroom. After finishing your business, you left the restroon and tried looking for a seat but noticed that they were all taken. Everyone was drinking, eating, and conversing with each other. When San saw you standing there, he gestured you over to him, only to pull you into his lap.

"San!" You whispered, his hands resting on your hips.

"Shh...it's time to play house." San murmured huskily into your ear. "Need to keep up the charade."

You blushed deeply, glancing around at the amused stares of his friends. For the sake of San, you accepted his invitation to stay seated on his lap. At first, it seemed innocent enough, but soon you could feel San running a hand up and down your back, his soft fingers caressing your bare thigh. The tips of his fingers slowly inched higher until they brushed against the bottom of your skirt.

"San..." You whispered again, surprised by his sudden boldness.

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" He breathed into your ear. "Please? I really want to kiss you right now."

Your breath hitched in your throat, knowing full well what he meant. Not that you were opposed to kissing San, you enjoyed the feel of his lips pressed against yours whenever you got the chance. But he'd never made a move on you like this before in public. Sure, you'd gotten hugs and a quick peck on the cheek from him for appearances sake but none of those kisses made your heart race like this.

"What do you think?" San whispered, pulling back from your ear long enough to meet your gaze.

"In front of everyone?" You questioned quietly.

"Baby, we need to give them a show so they can get up and leave the apartment." He reasoned. "Besides, I've been thinking about kissing you this whole day. And you looked so sexy today, dressed in that short skirt and that tight, sexy top. So yes, in front of everyone is exactly where I want to be kissing you."

With a soft sigh, you reluctantly nodded. "Alright, let's give them something to watch."

Slowly, San pulled you closer, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck, gently holding your head still. Then, with his mouth just inches away from yours, San whispered, "Kiss me, Y/N."

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, offering your lips to San without hesitation. In return, San captured your lips in a gentle kiss that melted your insides and made you gasp. Your mouths remained connected, devouring each other with lustful desire. There was no hesitation, no inhibitions; it was purely a display of raw lust and intense passion.

The way he held you, tenderly caressing your back, sending goosebumps all over your body and the pressure of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine. All you wanted to do was to run your fingers through his messy, black hair and slip your arms around his neck, begging him to touch you wherever he pleased.

As if reading your mind, San broke the kiss, grinning as he rested his forehead against yours. "Well, are you satisfied?"

Hearing San speak like that caused your cheeks to burn red. "You could say that." You replied, a little breathless.

"Good." San grinned, lightly running his fingers down your side.

You heard a cough and you both looked up to see Wooyoung staring at the two of you with a smug grin on his face. "Sooooo, is this the cue for us to end the party and go home so that ya'll can fuck each other senseless? Because that's what I'm hearing."

San chuckled lightly as he rose to his feet, pulling you along with him. "Yep, I guess that is what we're doing. Time to shut the party down. Y/N is feeling tired."

"Tired, my ass." Wooyoung sneered, eyeing the two of you with amusement. "You guys are just horny. Look how the two of you can't keep your hands off of each other."

"Once you get a taste of pussy, you can't get enough of it." San commented and you couldn't help but bury your head in his shoulder out of sheer embarrassment. You looked up at San and he grinned down at you.

"Alright, folks. Party is over." You announced. "Go home so that I can have my boyfriend all to myself. Bye!"

You smiled brightly as you waved goodbye to everyone. Soon, the apartment was empty except for the two of you and it felt nice to finally be alone with San again. As soon as you sat on the couch, San's hands grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you closer to him.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, baby." San whispered in your ear, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. "All of these people aren't here to judge you. We can enjoy ourselves in our own little world."

He stroked your leg softly, trailing his fingers down the edge of your skirt.

"It feels good to not have to act like we have a charade going on." You murmured, smiling up at San.

"Why don't we make this charade real then?" San gave you a mischievous smile, unbuttoning your tight shirt and letting it fall to the floor. "Why don't we live in reality instead of this fantasy that we're putting on for everyone else?"

"San...what are you-"

But before you could finish your sentence, San reached up and cupped your face with his hands, giving you a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Once he released your lips, you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Baby, I don't want to just kiss anymore. It's so hard for me to control myself around you. I want to throw you over the couch, tear your clothes off and fuck you until neither of us can move anymore."

"I know you want it too, Y/N. It shows in the way you look at me sometimes." San admitted, leaning down to give you another gentle kiss. "When you kiss me sometimes. When you wear these sexy clothes and don't think I'm not paying attention to you. I pay attention, I pay so much attention that I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you're screaming my name. I want you, baby. More than I ever thought possible. I want to lose myself in you. Take you any which way I please. Make you scream my name so loud that everyone within earshot knows who you belong to."

Fuck, you wanted this man. So bad that you ached in places that you never knew existed. Your body hummed with pleasure as you moaned against San's lips. "And why hold it in?" You whimpered, raising your hand to trace the outline of San's jawline.

"Because you're a queen that deserves to be treated like one." San growled, slowly slipping his tongue into your open mouth. "And if my queen wanted to wait and take things slow, then I would respect her wishes. I would wait until she wants me inside of her, filling her with the sweet warmth of my love."

You gasped as his warm tongue slid over yours. His kiss was different from the ones you shared in the past. Now, it wasn't as if you two were strangers; there was an unspoken connection between you two that grew deeper with every passing second. "And now?"

"I want you, Y/N. I want you more than anything in this world." San rasped. "Tonight, I want you in ways that I haven't even imagined before. You've made me realize that there are a lot of things I've never experienced in life, and now that I have you, I plan on experiencing everything."

Your heart swelled in your chest as you gazed at San with longing. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against San's once again, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace forever.

This. Was. It.

"I want you too." You mumbled against his lips. "Every part of you, San."

A single hand ran through your hair, tugging gently while the other caressed your cheekbone. Your hands grasped the sides of his shirt, gently pulling it upward until it fell to the floor with a thud.

"Oh God, baby." San moaned as you kissed your way down his neck, leaving a trail of fire-like kisses along his collar bone. When you finally stopped teasing him, you placed your palms against his muscular stomach and ran them downward until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Slowly, you unzipped his pants, revealing his hard length for the very first time.

"San...you're so beautiful." You breathed, caressing his shaft with trembling fingers. "I've always loved the way you smell, but seeing you with your pants undone, sporting a cock so big and thick in front of me has made me a complete mess."

He groaned as you took his dick into your hand, admiring the thickness and length of it. It was perfectly shaped and there was a huge vein pulsating down its center, stretching out towards the tip of his erection. His dick was so perfect, so breathtaking, that you had a difficult time keeping yourself from taking him into your mouth and sucking on it.

Instead, you cupped his balls in one hand and began massaging them with the other, causing him to groan even louder.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" He asked in between pants.

"Is it working?" You teased.

"Yes..." He muttered through clenched teeth. "More, baby. Please, give me more."

His words fueled your already raging desire for him. You squeezed his balls harder, eliciting a low moan from him. You dropped to your knees and started to pull his underwear down until they pooled at his ankles. San threw his head back, moaning louder as your mouth descended upon his cock, tasting the salty essence of pre-cum as you engulfed the entirety of him in your mouth.

"You're such a good girl." San moaned, running his hands through your hair as you pleasured him. "So eager to please. So eager to swallow my cum, just like you swallowed all of me. That's it, Y/N. Suck it like you mean it. Suck it like you fucking love it."

Breathing heavily, you licked the head of his dick, humming as you continued to suck on him. The taste of him was intoxicating, addicting, almost like drinking your favorite cocktail. Each time you slid your mouth further down, taking him deeper into your throat, you felt yourself getting lost in his intoxicating scent.

Soon, you found yourself drooling over the sight of his dick sliding between your lips. And as you looked up at him with hooded eyes, you noticed the way he looked at you. Like you were his entire universe. Like you were meant to be his.

"Please..." San whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Take it all."

You hummed against him, continuing to stroke him in a circular motion with your hand as you kept up with your ministrations with your mouth. You could feel him getting close to climax, so you slowed down, taking his dick out of your mouth. "Cum for me, San. Coat my throat with your cum."

You wanted him to cum so badly. You wanted him to fill your mouth with his semen so that you could drink it down greedily. "Let it flow, San. Let it all flow down my throat."

A few seconds later, you heard San release a strangled gasp. A second after that, he flooded your mouth with his cum, shooting stream after stream down your throat.

It didn't matter if you weren't prepared for it. All that mattered was that San came, and that he did it because of you.

As he pumped out the last of his semen into your mouth, you felt the vibrations in his dick as he became still. A moment later, you took the head of his dick into your mouth, sucking the remaining cum off of him. Then, you raised your head and looked up at San, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Did I do good?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as you watched him carefully.

"You blew me away, baby." San chuckled, reaching out to touch your cheek. "And now I really want to fuck you."

"Mmm, okay." You nodded. "That sounds like a great idea."

With a wicked grin, San wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up off the ground, carrying you over to the bedroom. Once he laid you down on the bed, he climbed atop you, kissing your forehead, his hands pulling off the last of your clothes. After that, his lips followed their path southward, lingering against your skin as his mouth moved down to tease your breasts.

Once his lips latched onto your nipples, he began sucking gently on them, occasionally releasing them to circle around them with his tongue. At the same time, his fingers began circling around your core, his thumb dipping between your folds and pushing into you with soft, tender strokes.

"Ahh..." You cried out as your entire body began to tingle. "S-San!"

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." San murmured against your breast. "Tell me how you want me to fuck you."

Gathering all of your courage, you pulled his face upwards and locked eyes with him. "Do whatever you want with me, San. Do whatever you need to do to get you off. Fuck me however you want. But please...fuck me hard."

At the sound of your begging, San laughed softly and said, "Well, when you put it that way...you make it very difficult to refuse."

Grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer, he ripped it open with his teeth, using his other hand to roll it down his throbbing member. Soon enough, he positioned himself between your legs and settled himself on top of you, sinking into your wet heat with one thrust.

It was the best feeling you'd ever experienced. Being completely filled by this man. This man who you desperately wanted to claim as your own.

San grabbed your wrists, pinning them over your head as he started to pump his hips, slowly. "God, you feel amazing." He grunted. "You're so tight around me. So hot. So fucking hot. I can't believe that I'm finally here, buried deep inside of you. Your pussy is tighter than I could have ever dreamed of. How is that even possible?"

"Fuck, San..." You panted, rocking your hips underneath him. "Keep going."

"Okay." San replied, smiling as he pushed into you harder. "You want it harder? Okay, I'll give it to you."

One of San's hands went to your hip, gripping you tightly as he slammed into you. His other hand gripped your hair, bringing your face closer to his as he bit down on your shoulder. "Fuck, baby." He whispered. "Your tits look amazing bouncing in the air."

"Does it feel good, Y/N?" He whispered, pushing into you even harder. "Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Ahhh..." You cried out. "I like this, San. Just keep doing this. Keep doing exactly what you're doing."

His lips left your shoulder and traveled to your ear where he nibbled lightly on your lobe. "I love the way you say my name." He murmured, brushing his nose across your cheek. "It's so sexy. So, so fucking sexy."

He then trailed kisses down your neck, pausing to kiss and suck your collar bone as he continued to plunge into you. Before long, he was running his lips back up to your ear, whispering against it. "Y/N, are you ready for me to take you to heaven and back? Because I am. I am right now. As soon as you let go, I'll take you to paradise and fuck you until we both pass out from exhaustion."

"Oh god, San..." You whimpered, tightening your thighs around him. "Take me there. Take me to paradise. Don't stop fucking me. Never stop fucking me. Don't you dare stop fucking me."

"Never." He agreed, running his hand over your ass as he increased his pace, slamming into you over and over again. "I don't ever plan on stopping."

"Yes, yes, yes!" You screamed, burying your head into the pillow beneath you as San increased his speed yet again. You dug your nails into the mattress as you panted loudly, attempting to regain your breath. "San, oh god, San!"

"Cum for me, baby." He panted against your ear. "Can you cum for me?"

"Yes!" You cried out, arching your back and grabbing hold of the sheets, wrapping your fingers around them. "I'm coming! Oh god, I'm coming!"

A few seconds later, San's entire body stiffened and his dick began pulsating inside of you. For a brief moment, his cock twitched as he held onto you for dear life before the orgasm hit him and washed over him. He fell forward onto your chest, gasping for breath as you clung to him. When he caught his breath, he pulled out of you, sitting upright on the bed next to you and pulled the condom off of his dick. With a small smile, he tossed it onto the floor, then collapsed beside you, spooning you from behind.

After several minutes, you finally recovered from your near death experience and opened your eyes. You smiled softly as you saw San lying naked next to you.

"Hey." He murmured, brushing his fingertips along your arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." You assured him, snuggling into him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" San asked, stroking your arm with his thumb.

"No, you didn't hurt me." You giggled. "Actually, it felt pretty damn amazing."

"I'm glad." San sighed. "And to think that we've been living together all this time and haven't done this. We definitely need to remedy that situation."

You couldn't help but laugh as you pressed a kiss to his lips. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Anytime, anywhere." San grinned. "I don't care. As long as it involves you and me and lots of sex."

"Oh, we can definitely work with that." You giggled. "Speaking of which...I'm kind of curious about something."

"What's that?" San asked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

"Now that this whole thing has happened...are we still playing pretend or...?"

"We're not pretending anymore, Y/N." San interrupted you. "From now on, you're mine and I'm yours."

You swallowed nervously. "Yours?"

"I'm saying that we're together, baby." San explained, pulling you in close. "For real this time. No more games. No more pretending."

You smiled softly, resting your head against San's chest. "That makes me really happy, San."

"Now that that's settled," he murmured against your neck, "how about we get this night started again? Because I know I can't wait any longer to fuck you again."

"San!" You let out a laugh as you squirmed in his arms. "Don't you dare."

"...Too late." San smirked as he slid into you. "I told you that I wouldn't stop until I fucked you again. And I meant every word."

And he certainly wasn't kidding.

[darkwood-sleddog]

Do you have any information on the Seppala sled dogs? I've seen some breeders claiming to have them but idk. The most "legit" kennel I saw apparently stopped their program a long time ago and let their dogs age out according ti their website. Their dogs looked lankier and leaner compared to Siberian huskies and had taller, close-set ears, they looked pretty neat. How much did they differ from their Sibe cousins & Chukchi laika ancestors? Are any of them still around today? Did they get absorbed into the Alaskan husky population, like the native Alaskan village dogs?

It's not my breed of choice so I probably don't have the most nuanced information, but they're basically just another breed of working sled dog.

After the Serum Run, Leonard Seppala toured with his dogs in the lower 48. It is during this time that we start seeing the beginnings of the modern Alaskan Malamute, the Siberian Husky, and the Seppala Siberian Sled Dog as all three programs owe some or much of their foundation from dogs Seppala brought with him.

You see, while the Siberian Husky and Seppala people like to think that Leonard Seppala had some sort of strict vision or plan of what he wanted to breed because he was amongst the first to import dogs from Siberia (and is certainly responsible for their fame as racers), many of his dogs were of mixed heritage. Togo himself was a quarter malamute (lower case here to indicate 'malamute' as it was prior to Kennel Club registration, a catch all name for indigenous coastal sled dogs at the time) and so were many of Seppala's dogs:

Seppala even gifted Yukon Jad, the father of the first registered litter of Alaskan Malamutes, to Eva Seeley at the time. The Seeley's owned Chinook Kennels in New Hampshire and here is where things start getting complex. Chinook Kennels bred both Alaskan Malamutes (Seeley's pet project, breeding dogs for Antarctic expeditions), as well as Siberian Huskies from additional stock she had acquired from Seppala. There is a rumor, with some truth behind it, that she would classify a dog as a 'malamute' if it had brown eyes, and a Siberian Husky if it had blue eyes.

Meanwhile Seppala went on to partner with Elizabeth Ricker in Poland Springs, Maine (who was Togo's final owner before his death) to form a different kennel. This one focused strictly on racing dogs. Again, descended from the dogs Seppala had brought to the lower 48. When this kennel disbanded, several of the dogs in Maine went to Harry Wheeler in Quebec who kept them in an extremely closed gene pool until the 1950s (descended from 9 dogs total yikes...). It is around this time that things start dispersing. There begins to be some crossover with the Seppala and Working Siberian Husky gene pools at this time (if you want to get really thick in the weeds read this). Many Working Siberians have Seppala heritage and vice versa because of this. Non-working bloodlines also have crossover to the Poland Springs dogs as well, but less often. There are a TON of Siberian Husky, Working Siberian Husky, and Seppala Siberian Sled Dog bloodlines, some of different percentage of mixture. But does it matter that much when all three breeds have origins in the exact same small group of dogs?

Ultimately the answer of why it matters to some comes down to breed politics and the way kennels clubs are structured, often failing to prioritize working aptitude over physical appearance. There were disagreements over how dogs descendent from the Seppala dogs should continue or how to best uphold, what Seppala wanted out of his dogs (which was to win races, but i digress...), and a lot of MASSIVE hatred for Eva Seeley (like they hate the idea that malamute might be in dogs from her kennel but Seppala himself was crossing Siberians and Malamutes before this time period...). Ultimately, Seppala Siberian Sled Dog people conclude that a Seppala is ONLY a Seppala if it descends only from dogs of Leonard Seppala OR dogs imported from Russia (there are major differences between Indigenous Russian sled dogs and Seppala Siberian Sled Dogs imo, but I won't get into that here in too much detail bc I'm glad they're outcrossing as the SSSD is very in need of genetic diversity). They usually have a big focus on working their dogs and eschew traditional kennel clubs (The Seppala Siberian Sled Dog is registered as a breed only with the Continental Kennel Club, the same 'Kennel Club' that will register anything with four legs as a breed so...).

Now I think a LOT of SSSD people place a huge amount of energy into what "looks" like an SSSD compared to a working Siberian Husky and vice-versa, which is funny considering their attitudes on conformation showing as well as their willingness to outcross to unrelated dogs. They love making the 'cookie cutter show dog' argument against conformation bred Siberians while also having a breed of dog ultimately descended from the same stock, that has been intensely inbred in its history (even though they will bemoan the registered Siberian's lack of genetic diversity...i would be interested in seeing COI comparisons honestly) and has a very distinct look. Again, so much of this comes down to early breeder's historical beef with Siberian Husky folks which I think would be much better for both sides to let go of because really what this is is breed split at the most granular. I can guarantee Russian sled dogs folks that don't use registered breeds specifically do not care to get this fucking specific. Does it work well? Cool, it's sled dog.

(Half Yakutian Laika/Seppala dog on the left, full Seppala dog on the right for comparison, but god forbid a registered Siberian Husky is bred into the bloodlines despite...everything).

Anyways here are some actual indigenous russian sled dogs:

And Leonard Seppala's Dogs:

(SSSD folk will often wax poetical about their dogs resemblance to Scotty, but notice how unusual Scotty looks compared to the other siberian imports Seppala owned (he did have an import Dam, but father? who knows).)

Some Alaskan Husky lines do have Seppala in their heritage (I believe the Hedlund Husky project uses them infrequently as outcrosses), but the Seppala Siberian Sled Dog is pretty insular within itself and the people still breeding it. There are not a lot of breeders, but there are def some of them doing really interesting stuff with their dogs (despite my beef for the attitude and breed split i still have a deep respect when people are doing cool stuff and open to outcrossing etc.). Poland Springs Seppalas is in Alaska right now doing a recreation of the original serum run to celebrate the serum run's 100th year. I think that's pretty darn cool.

[seijorhi]

(long post ahead)

I'M GNAWING AT THE BARS FOR THIS FIC RHI. There's so many components I love especially with the hyper-aware and insecure MC towards the system and that being her blindspot three alphas' infatuation with her. Even if she is a beta, it's pretty clear that she's entangled in the system even if she doesn't want to. That's one part I always like about outsider MC tropes since they aren't always spared from these hiearchies, which is why I deeply adore the portrayal of a beta MC amongst a sea of omega MCs (no offense to the writers tho!)

I feel like the fic was also a good combination of standout parts from Powder Keg and Means to an End with the Ame/Aya similarity and the climax ending at the hospital. I wonder what other readers' interpretation of Aya would be like especially since Ame got negative reception at her naivety and her blind desire to be with the boy/s. I think they're both buffers in the sense that if they were gone, a lot of the tension would be removed as the boys would have taken a more straightforward and drastic approach.

To me, I feel like Aya's character was very interesting especially since her outright flaws in the fic could be attributed to her omega nature. It's understandable that she would have a tunnel vision to getting a pack. It's also pretty clear in the fic that Aya was willing to walk away as long as MC communicated it to her, which makes MC's discomfort and eventual assault by Ushijima all the more painful. I've made this review solely centered on the girls since they're very complex leading ladies, but the alphas oh my god...

We've already seen a team up with Ushijima and Tendou before, but Semi is such a good addition to the mix. He reminds me of a mixture between Matsukawa and Kuroo through his vibes, and he was really intimidating/pushy at simultaneously luring and taunting MC in their solo convo. Aside from that, Ushijima's scenes were an unexpected part of the fic since he always seeemed composed and cold until he isn't. I just want to look into his head during the match since he was staring at MC so intensely. Also, Tendou's part was interesting since he was just playing Aya at the tips of his fingertips. It's a nice change for him to just manipulate another person so easily for the sake of his goals.

If you don't mind this very long post, I have a few questions to ask since I love the fic and I want a new trend of beta readers to come out in the a/b/o fics 🙏

- What was the three's first impression of the MC when they actually met face-to-face during the game?

- What were Tendou and Aya talking about in their solo conversation?

- What's their endgame? Would they be willing to expand their pack so that other alphas, omegas, and betas can have a taste of MC?

- The three wanted to keep Aya as a back-up, but would there be a line she could never cross or she'd get removed from the arrangement entirely?

- Maybe it's just my ass being delusional since Aya and MC have a close relationship, but did Aya ever think of pursuing things with her romantically even with her status?

ty my love!!

it's funny you bring up ame, because after the backlash with her character in means to an end i tried to make ayako at least slightly more sympathetic?? she's not perfect by any means, but at the end of the day she's just a girl who loves her best friend. she's balancing her biological needs – a veritable ticking clock – against the risk of losing the only person she cares about, and it goes catastrophically wrong

okay onto the questions;

i think ushijima's reaction speaks for itself. if there was any doubt she was it, it pretty much evaporated right then and there.

for semi, it's her first time meeting him, sure, but with the most free time on his hands, he's pretty well acquainted with their little beta.

with tendou, what she attributes to friendly enthusiasm is...well, barely repressed horniness. he wants to bend her over so bad

2. it's mostly smalltalk and funny stores, tendou prying into her life with the reader between anecdotes of his own and aya giggling along. his attention wanes pretty quick without the reader

3. their pack is perfect as is. three alphas and their beta mate. at one point they were willing to potentially include aya in that, but considering ushijima completely lost it over the omega scenting her and semi's own simmering jealousy (which i think comes as a surprise to him as well), those plans were quickly abandoned. they're too possessive to share, even on a limited basis.

4. i think even if they'd gone ahead with the plan, the end result would've been the same, just a slower process. the limits to the levels of contact they'd accept growing smaller and more restrictive day by day.

5. the first draft was very, very gay. like almost overtly. jennifer's body levels of 'gay for your best friend'. i ended up dialling it down to make it more open to interpretation, but i think that ultimately, no matter how you read it, if aya could deal with her heats entirely on her own, she'd be more than happy to live out her days just the two of them.

[aventurineswife]

Thinking of Ratio with a female s/o but with the personality/backstory of Shinosawa Hiro from Gakuen Idolmaster! So reader is a genius at a lot of studies that involved her brain and graduated in science major when she's young but afterwards she purposely decided to pursue a career in something physical that she's bad at (Hiro's case is an idol, but you can pick anything) because she wanted to experience working hard for her dreams and not taking the easy path, but the way reader expresses it might've been sounding like a masochist in all its right.

I'd like to see your take on it!

“The harder the battle, the sweeter the victory”

Summary: Ratio is deeply intrigued by his partner, a brilliant young woman who has chosen to step away from intellectual pursuits and challenge herself in physical disciplines, even though she’s not naturally gifted in them. Despite her genius in science, she deliberately chooses a path full of struggle and failure, finding joy in the growth that comes from working hard at something difficult. Ratio, who values mastery and efficiency, admires her tenacity but finds himself puzzled by her desire to struggle.

Tags: Ratio x Female!Reader, Intellectual x Struggling Genius, Established Relationship, Genius!Reader, Physical Struggle for Growth, Mutual Admiration, Slow Burn, Romantic Tension.

Ratio stood at the window of his study, deep in thought, his hair falling over one eye as he contemplated the latest data in front of him. His eyes scanned the complex equations with an intensity that could rival the brightest stars. Yet, despite his intellectual brilliance, there was one thing on his mind that consistently eluded him.

You.

His brilliant, enigmatic partner. His equal in intellect, if not surpassing him, yet you—like him—had a particular kind of brilliance that didn't quite align with the norm. You weren’t merely driven by the thirst for knowledge; you sought something else entirely. Something that, to him, was still a mystery. It had all started when you, a certified genius in science, chose a path that left many baffled.

Where others expected you to continue a career in research, becoming a figure of recognition in your field, you chose instead to embark on a journey of physicality, something you’d never excelled at. He remembered the day you told him about your decision. It had been a casual conversation over coffee, but the conviction in your voice had caught him off guard.

“I’m tired of the easy path,” you had said, your voice as soft as it was resolute. “I want to experience what it’s like to fail, to struggle. To work hard for something, rather than having everything handed to me on a silver platter.”

He had been unable to hide his confusion. “But... why?”

You had smiled, a strange gleam in your eyes. “Because... I find joy in things that don’t come easily. I’m no masochist, Ratio, but I believe there’s something valuable in pushing past the limits of one’s comfort. In fact, I’m quite looking forward to it.”

And so, you had chosen to pursue a career as a professional dancer, a path that required discipline, coordination, and physical grace—everything you had not been born with. He had watched, sometimes in awe, as you tackled each practice with a mixture of determination and, what he could only describe as, delight. He knew the truth: you thrived in adversity. It was almost as if failure was your driving force.

As always, Ratio had been caught in your orbit. Despite the frustrations he experienced seeing you struggle in your pursuit, there was an undeniable admiration he held for your tenacity. You were no longer the perfect student or the prodigy who walked through every challenge with ease. No, you were something more: a mystery, a riddle he couldn’t quite solve.

On one occasion, you had returned to the apartment after an especially grueling rehearsal. You were drenched in sweat, but there was that same spark in your eyes—burning brightly, full of satisfaction, even in the face of exhaustion.

“That was awful,” you had said, falling onto the couch beside him. “I felt like I was going to collapse halfway through. But... I think I might have learned something new today. Something that will help me improve tomorrow.”

Ratio raised an eyebrow, unable to stop himself from chuckling lightly. “You’re... something else, you know that?” He reached for his cup of tea, his eyes studying you with a mixture of concern and admiration. “You work so hard, and yet you constantly talk about the satisfaction of failing. I have to admit, I don’t fully understand it.”

You smiled, stretching your arms as you reclined back. “Maybe you don’t need to. You know how much I love to learn, Ratio. But what good is learning if you only do what’s easy? It’s the struggle, the moments when you feel like giving up, that shape us into something better.”

He leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He had always been so focused on mastery and achievement, on knowledge and efficiency. But you... you were driven by something different, something intangible. It was as if your brilliance only found true purpose when it was matched with your determination to grow in areas you were weakest.

He couldn’t help but admire your dedication, even as he feared that you were pushing yourself too hard.

“That’s your way of thinking,” he murmured, glancing at you with a thoughtful expression. “But let me ask you this—are you really enjoying it? Or are you just addicted to the feeling of pushing yourself beyond your limits?”

You shrugged, still lying on the couch. “Maybe it’s both. I guess I won’t know for sure until I’ve reached the end. But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Not knowing where the struggle will take me.”

He couldn’t argue with that. There was a certain allure to your mindset, a magnetic pull that kept him coming back for more. Despite his own cold, calculated nature, you had managed to draw him into a world where failure was celebrated, where the beauty of growth existed in the very act of trying and falling short.

It was a world that, despite its challenges, seemed to hold its own kind of wisdom.

“I can’t say I fully understand you,” Ratio admitted, standing up and walking over to you. “But I do admire you, even if it means I have to watch you fail... again and again.”

You sat up, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. “It’s not failure if you’re learning from it, Ratio. It’s just... progress in disguise.”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his expression softening. “I suppose I’ll have to learn to accept that.”

And as the two of you sat together, surrounded by books and scattered notes, the dance of knowledge and struggle continued—a dance where two brilliant minds, though different in their pursuits, found their way through the complexities of life, side by side.

[novlr]

I’m not sure where the heart of my story is. How do I figure out the theme of the story so I can flesh out the details (without changing my mind next week)? Do you start with a theme and build a story around it, or does the theme emerge as you write?

Themes are so personal, and different writers with different goals will approach it differently.

Many writers struggle with pinning down their themes, and it’s no wonder. Themes are deeply personal, emerging from our own experiences, beliefs, and the questions that keep us up at night.

Some writers meticulously plan their themes before writing a single word, while others discover them organically as their story unfolds. Neither approach is inherently better. Personally, I do a mixture of both. What matters is finding a process that works best for you.

What is a theme?

At its core, a theme is the central message or underlying meaning of your story. It’s what you want your readers to take away after from the story after they’ve turned the last page.

Your story’s theme is the truth or observation that your narrative explores. This can work on multiple levels:

Universal themes are the big ideas that resonate across cultures and time periods, like love, grief, redemption, power, or identity. These broad themes give your story a foundation that readers can connect with.

But themes can also be more specific and nuanced. A story about a chef might explore the theme of “food as memory,” examining how tastes and smells connect us to our past. A novel about siblings could delve into “the complexity of shared childhood trauma,” looking at how different people process the same experiences.

The most powerful stories often layer these themes, perhaps combining a universal theme like “the search for identity” with a more specific exploration of “how social media shapes modern self-expression”.

Starting with a theme

Some writers like to have their theme tied down before they write. Personally, I take a hybrid approach. I usually have a universal theme I know in advance that I want my story to cover, but I let myself discover the more specific themes as the story progresses. But I know many writers who work theme-first and develop the story around it.

Starting with a theme can be like having a compass for your narrative. It guides your creative decisions and helps you stay focused on what you want to say.

Benefits of starting with a theme

When you begin with a clear thematic intention, you gain:

A strong sense of purpose and direction.

A framework for making plot decisions.

Clear character motivations and arcs.

Natural unity across story elements.

Built-in conflict possibilities.

Focused opportunities for symbolism.

How to develop story from a theme

Let’s say you want to explore the theme of “sacrifice for family.” If you knew this in advance, you might consider the following when developing the plot. It may help you:

Create characters who embody different views on family obligation.

Design plot points that force difficult choices between personal desires and family needs.

Build a setting that reinforces the weight of family legacy.

Develop subplots that echo or contrast with your main theme.

Include symbols and motifs that reinforce ideas of family bonds.

These examples are to a specific theme, however, the same can be applied to almost anything. If you know your theme in advance, all your character, setting, and relationship decisions will combine with that knowledge so you can be targeted in how you approach them.

Making it natural

The tricky thing about having your theme fully decided before you start writing is that it can be hard to let your theme inform your story without dominating it. Your readers shouldn’t feel like they’re being taught a lesson, which can very easily happen if you overwork your theme. Instead:

Let your characters struggle with the theme in natural ways. Treat them like people and let them react to situations that way.

Allow for complexity and nuance. Not everything has to be simple or easy to understand.

Include moments that challenge or question the theme.

Balance thematic elements with a well-paced plot and character development.

Leave room for readers to draw their own conclusions. Don’t spoon feed them all the information.

Discovering your theme through writing

Letting your themes emerge naturally as you write can be like archaeology. You’re carefully uncovering the meaning buried within your own subconscious as you write. Some of the most profound themes come from this process of discovery, revealing truths you didn’t even know you wanted to explore, but it does require you to pay attention to yourself and your writing process.

A theme won’t necessarily just jump out at you. You have to be open to the process of discovery and be willing to make changes and edits when you finally settle on what you want to say.

Benefits of discovering theme

When you allow your themes to emerge naturally, you gain:

Thematic development that grows from your story, rather than building your story around it.

The freedom to explore your narrative without your own preconceptions.

Layers of meaning that surface organically.

Themes that will surprise you, and therefore will also surprise the reader.

How themes emerge through writing

If you’re letting your themes reveal themselves to you as you write, then there are some things you’ll need to pay attention to as you go. These might include:

Character decisions and their consequences.

Recurring patterns in your narrative.

Conflicts that keep appearing in different forms.

Questions your characters frequently wrestle with.

Imagery and metaphors that naturally arise.

For example, you might start writing about a character leaving their hometown, focusing on the plot and character development. As you write, you begin to notice patterns. Perhaps every major decision involves choosing between comfort and growth, or your descriptions keep returning to images of roots and wings. These patterns can reveal deeper themes about belonging, self-discovery, or the tension between stability and change.

How to recognise and develop emerging themes

Once you notice potential themes in your work, you must:

Pay attention to recurring elements in your story. Make sure you’re not overusing them, and that they form something cohesive.

Look for connections between different plot threads. If you mapped them all out, is there a unifying strand that connects them all?

Consider what questions your characters keep facing. What are there primary conflicts, and do they have any connections?

Notice patterns in your metaphors and imagery. Do you use certain imagery regularly? What does it mean to you?

Think about what draws you emotionally to certain scenes. What did you have the most fun, or the hardest time writing? Why do you think that is?

Allow yourself to explore unexpected thematic directions. Did your plot move in a direction you weren’t expecting? Is there any underlying meaning to that shift?

Practical ways to develop theme

No matter what point of your plotting or writing journey you decide to look at theme, here are some questions you should always ask:

Look to your characters: What do they want? What are they afraid of? What lessons do they learn? How do they change?

Examine your plot: What conflicts arise? What choices do your characters face? What consequences follow their actions? Are there any patterns that emerge?

Look to yourself: What subjects interest you? What questions keep you up at night? What experiences have shaped you? What beliefs drive you?

Draw from real life: What universal struggles affect you the most? Which human experiences touch you emotionally? What social issues are you passionate about? Is there any moral ambiguity you see in the world around you?

Questions to ask yourself

When developing themes, consider:

What questions does your story ask (even if there’s no clear answer)?

What truths does it reveal?

Why does this story matter?

What do you want readers to think about?

How does your story reflect human experience?

Whether you start with a theme or discover it along the way, what matters is creating a story that resonates with meaning. Trust your creative process. Whether you control the narrative completely or stay open to discovery, just make sure you have something to say.

[thequeenofneverland1]

Kol Mikaelson//// Between Shadows and Light

Anonymous request: hi hi. can we have an imagine about how reader is in love with kol but he falls for davina instead

Warnings: Romantic Tension, Heartbreak and Emotional Distress, Supernatural Elements, Intense Emotional, Complex Family Dynamics, Mature Themes and Language Character Flaws and Mistakes, Tension and Conflict

A/N: thank you once again for your request and. I also want to apologize if I got a bit carried away with the storyline there were so many twists and turns to explore! I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I did.

It was a crisp, late-autumn evening, and you found yourself wandering the streets of New Orleans, your heart heavy with an unfamiliar ache. You’d always had a soft spot for Kol Mikaelson, the mischievous spark in his eye, his infectious laugh, and the way he’d always managed to make you feel like you were the only one who understood his rebellious spirit. But lately, things have changed. you had seen that spark in his eye when he looked at someone else: Davina Claire.

you couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment when you realized Kol was falling for Davina. Maybe it was in the way his smile softened when he spoke of her, or how he seemed to hang on her every word, almost as if he was lost in a world that only Davina could create. you had tried to tell yourself it didn’t matter that whatever connection you two had was still strong, still unbreakable. But seeing Kol with Davina had been a rude awakening.

Tonight, you walked to the abandoned church that Davina had been using as your safe haven, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you. you knew Kol would be there. you needed to see it with your own eyes,needed to accept that whatever you two had shared was over.

As you neared the church, you could see the faint glow of candlelight flickering through the stained-glass windows. your footsteps slowed as you approached the doors, your eart pounding in your chest. You pressed your palm against the cold wood, breathing in deeply to calm your nerves. Steeling yourself, you pushed the door open just a crack, enough to see the scene unfolding within.

There, in the center of the room, stood Kol and Davina, wrapped in an embrace that was tender, yet powerful. Davina was laughing, her smile lighting up the dim room, and Kol looked down at her with an expression you had never seen before: a softness, a vulnerability. He looked like a man who had finally found something, or rather, someone, worth fighting for.

Your throat tightened, a pang of sadness washing over you as you realized that Kol had never looked at you that way. You watched as he brushed a stray strand of hair from Davina’s face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, and it was then that you knew. Kol Mikaelson was in love, and it wasn’t with you.

You took a step back, the quiet creak of the floorboards snapping you out of your trance. Before you could retreat, Kol’s head whipped around, his eyes catching yourself. For a moment, your and his gazes locked, and You saw a flash of guilt cross his face.

“Y/n,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step toward you, as if unsure of what to say.

Davina turned, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “Y/n… I didn’t realize you were coming by tonight,” she said, her tone friendly but tentative.

You forced a small smile, trying to mask the emotions swirling inside you. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just… needed some air. I didn’t realize you two would be here.”

Kol scratched the back of his neck, his usual cocky demeanor slipping away, replaced by something far more human, almost remorseful. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t… I didn’t want it to be like this.”

The words stung, but you did your best to brush it off, keeping your tone light. “No need to apologize. I guess I’m just… the last to know.”

Davina stepped forward, her eyes filled with sympathy. “Y/n, I had no idea. If I’d known how you felt…”

You shook your head, holding up a hand. “No, Davina. Don’t apologize. I’m glad he’s found someone like you. You… you bring out a side of him that’s good, that’s different.” You looked at Kol, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I just wanted to say goodbye, Kol. Maybe it’s time I let you be happy.”

Kol’s jaw tightened, as if he wanted to reach out to you, to say something, anything, that might make this easier. But you knew better. You knew that any apology, any explanation, would only deepen the ache in your heart.

“Y/n…” Kol began, his voice soft, almost pleading. but you couldn’t bear to hear it. you couldn’t bear to let him see you break.

“Take care of him, Davina,” you said, your voice barely a whisper as you turned away, fighting to keep your composure. You walked back toward the door, refusing to look back, refusing to let Kol see the tears welling up in your eyes.

As you stepped out into the cool night air, a sense of finality settled over you. Kol had chosen Davina, and as much as it hurt, you knew it was time for you to move on, to find your own happiness, no matter how painful this goodbye was.

It had been Rebekah who held you together, always there with her biting remarks and fierce loyalty. Rebekah, your best friend, had always despised Davina, especially after Kol’s sudden infatuation.

“I told you,” she had said one night as the two of you stood by the sidewalk, your eyes still red from tears. “My brother’s a bloody fool. Falling for that witch when he had you right in front of him.”

You had just nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “I guess it was never meant to be.”

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed behind you, interrupting the silence of the night. You turned around, bracing yourself or yet another emotional conversation, but instead, you were met with the piercing blue gaze of Damon Salvatore. He leaned casually against a tree, a smirk playing on his lips, his posture as effortless as if he belonged in the shadows of this ancient place.

“Fancy meeting you here, princess,” he drawled, his voice filled with amusement. “Let me guess, you’re nursing a broken heart after the whole ‘Kol choosing Davina’ debacle?”

You crossed your arms, giving him a defiant look. “Is there anything you don’t know about, Damon? Or are you just that nosy?”

He shrugged, pushing off the tree and strolling closer to you. “Nosy? More like observant. Besides, I’m a sucker for drama, and the Originals are a soap opera I just can’t resist.”

You tried to hide your smile, but Damon’s wit had a way of lightening even the heaviest of moods. You looked down, taking a deep breath, as you gathered your thoughts. “I thought Kol and I had something… different. But I guess I was wrong.”

Damon tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “Wrong? Or maybe he’s just an idiot who doesn’t know a good thing when he sees it.” His tone was light, but there was an edge of sincerity that surprised you.

You felt a flicker of warmth at his words, though you quickly dismissed it, shaking your head. “You don’t have to say that, Damon. I know how complicated things can get with people like us… well, people like you all, anyway.”

Damon let out a dry chuckle. “Trust me, sweetheart, complicated is putting it lightly. But here’s the thing, some of us don’t let complicated get in the way of making the right choice.” He stepped closer, his smirk softening into something gentler. “So maybe, just maybe, you deserve someone who sees you as the first choice. Not the second.”

Your breath caught in your throat. you hadn’t expected this kind of honesty from Damon, of all people. He had a reputation as a heartbreaker, a troublemaker, someone who thrived in chaos. Yet here he was, offering you comfort, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Are you saying that person should be you, Damon?” You teased, raising an eyebrow, though your heart thudded with the hint of a possibility.

He laughed, the sound low and genuine. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just saying you deserve someone who’s not going to choose anyone else over you. Someone who’s willing to stay even when things get messy.”

your and his eyes met, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade into the background: the heartache, the confusion, the lingering hurt from Kol’s decision. Standing there in the moonlight, Damon’s presence felt like an anchor, a steady reminder that maybe, just maybe, there was more to your story than the one you had allowed Kol to write.

You looked up at Damon, the corners of your mouth curving into a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Damon. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He smirked, crossing his arms with that familiar playful glint returning to his eyes. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Y/n. But stick around, and I might just surprise you.”

You laughed, feeling lighter for the first time that night. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You and Him stood there in comfortable silence, both aware that they were on the cusp of something new, something unexpected. Damon was right, maybe it was time you chose someone who would choose you without hesitation. And maybe, just maybe, Damon Salvatore was the perfect place to start.

But fate is cruel, and nothing ever truly ends when it’s supposed to. Days after Kol had moved on, your life took a different turn. Damon Salvatore had always been a bit of a wildcard, with his dark smirks and twisted sense of humor. What had started as casual flirting turned into something deeper, something unexpected. Damon had been there, picking up the pieces when Kol had broken your heart, and soon enough, you found yourself in his arms

The early afternoon sunlight poured through the large windows of the Salvatore boarding house, casting a warm glow over the living room where Elena and Stefan were lounging on the couch. They had been exchanging amused glances, whispering under their breaths as they watched Damon practically skip around the house, humming a tune they’d never heard him hum before. His mood had been noticeably different for the past few days, lighter, carefree, and oddly cheerful.

“Is it just me, or is Damon actually… happy?” Elena whispered, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

Stefan chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “It’s strange, right? I haven’t seen him this way in… well, ever. Usually, he’s brooding over something or complaining about everyone else’s problems.”

They shared a laugh, watching as Damon poured himself a glass of bourbon, his lips tugged into a smile that he seemed incapable of hiding. His eyes were distant, as though lost in a daydream, and Stefan and Elena couldn’t help but be intrigued. After a few moments, Stefan finally cleared his throat to get his brother’s attention.

“Alright, Damon, spill it,” Stefan said, crossing his arms and leaning back with a playful grin. “What’s got you in such a good mood? You look like you just won the lottery.”

Damon looked up, startled, as though he hadn’t even noticed his brother and Elena sitting there. For a brief second, he seemed almost embarrassed, a rare expression for him. But then, as if deciding he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer, he set down his glass and turned to face them, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

“Well,” he began, dragging out the word with exaggerated flair, “since you’re so desperate to know… there may be a certain someone who’s been putting a little extra pep in my step.”

Elena’s eyes widened, and a delighted grin spread across her face. “Wait, seriously? You’ve met someone?”

Damon shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him. “Maybe. Maybe not. You know me, I don’t like to kiss and tell.”

Stefan rolled his eyes. “Damon, come on. You’re practically floating around the house like some lovesick teenager. Just tell us already.”

Damon hesitated for a moment, as though weighing whether or not he wanted to share this particular detail. But as he glanced at his brother and Elena, he realized there was no point in hiding it. The truth was, he wanted to talk about you.

“Fine,” he said, feigning reluctance. “It’s Y/n.”

“Y/n?” Elena repeated, surprise flashing in her eyes. “As in Y/n Y/l/n? Kol’s ex?”

“Precisely.” Damon’s grin grew wider, and there was a glint of satisfaction in his gaze. “Though, I wouldn’t exactly call her Kol’s anymore, would you?”

Elena let out a laugh, covering her mouth in astonishment. “Damon! Oh my god, are you two actually…?”

He shrugged, a pleased smirk playing on his lips. “What can I say? She has good taste.”

Stefan exchanged a look with Elena, his own face breaking into a grin. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement. “Who would’ve thought that you’d actually go for Kol’s ex? Though, now that I think about it, Y/n always seemed… different around you.”

Damon’s expression softened, the bravado fading as he thought about you. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “She’s… she’s something else. I don’t know how to explain it. With her, it just feels… easy.”

Elena’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and she clapped her hands together. “Oh, Damon, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

Damon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t get all sappy on me now, Elena. I still have a reputation to uphold.”

But Elena and Stefan couldn’t help their excitement. For years, they had watched Damon struggle with his emotions, torn between his darker impulses and his desire to find happiness. And now, for the first time, he seemed genuinely content. They exchanged another glance, an idea forming in Elena’s mind as she leaned forward, her eyes bright.

“Hey, you know what we should do?” she suggested, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “We should go on a double date! You, Y/n, Stefan, and me. It’ll be fun!”

Stefan’s eyebrows shot up, but he nodded, clearly intrigued by the idea. “That could actually be great, Damon. We could do something simple, maybe dinner and drinks. Just a chance for us to get to know Y/n better.”

Damon hesitated, his mind flashing to the inevitable reaction you’d have to the suggestion. But as he thought about it, he couldn’t deny that the idea sounded surprisingly appealing. Spending an evening with you, with his brother and Elena, almost like… a family. It was strange, almost too domestic for his tastes, but he found himself drawn to it.

“Alright, alright,” he finally agreed, his tone playfully reluctant. “But if you two start getting all mushy, I’m out. Last thing I need is to witness Stefan’s puppy-dog eyes.”

Stefan laughed, throwing a cushion at his brother. “Shut up, Damon. This is for you, remember?”

Damon rolled his eyes, but the faint smile that tugged at his lips betrayed his excitement. For once, he was allowing himself to imagine a life that wasn’t clouded by darkness or filled with endless battles. He was allowing himself to imagine a life with you.

Elena clapped her hands, practically vibrating with excitement. “Okay, I’ll text Y/n and let her know! This is going to be so much fun!”

But before she could pull out her phone, Damon held up a hand, stopping her. “Hold on, Elena. Let me talk to her first.” He shot her a knowing look, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something softer. “I’d like to ask her myself.”

Elena’s face softened, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Of course, Damon. Take your time.”

With that, Damon stood, his heart beating a little faster than usual. As he left the room, Stefan and Elena exchanged a look, a mixture of surprise and happiness written across their faces. They had always believed in Damon’s ability to find happiness, even when he doubted it himself. And now, seeing him so taken with you, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope.

“Do you think it’ll last?” Stefan asked softly, a hint of worry in his eyes.

Elena took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I think… I think he deserves this. He deserves someone who makes him happy. And if Y/n is the one, then I believe in them.”

Stefan nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Then let’s make this double date happen.”

Meanwhile, Damon made his way upstairs, feeling an unfamiliar excitement buzzing through his veins. He had been with other women before, of course, but none had left him feeling like this, like he was teetering on the edge of something bigger than himself. And as he reached his room, he pulled out his phone, your number already at the top of his contact list. Without hesitating, he typed out a quick message:

“Hey, how do you feel about a double date with Stefan and Elena? Dinner, drinks, just us four. Let me know what you think.” He hesitated for a moment, then hit send, exhaling slowly as he waited for your reply.

The bright screen of your phone lit up, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw Damon’s name flash across the screen. It was a simple message, but the thought of Damon asking you on a double date made butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach. You felt your cheeks warm as you read his words again, a little grin slipping onto your face despite yourself:

“Hey, how do you feel about a double date with Stefan and Elena? Dinner, drinks, just us four. Let me know what you think.”

You stared at the text, trying to steady your nervously hands,Damon Salvatore, the one person who could always make you feel so alive, had been a constant presence these last few days. Ever since Kol had chosen Davina over you, Damon had swooped in, helping you move past the hurt. He had a way of making you laugh even on your worst days, his sarcasm a strange kind of comfort. And now, this double date, it felt like something you never thought you’d have with anyone, let alone Damon.

You typed back quickly, fingers flying over the screen. “I’d love that. Let me know when and where. Can’t wait!” As you hit send, a giggle escaped your lips, a genuine laugh that felt like a long time coming. You had just closed the text thread when Rebekah, who had been watching you from across the room with a sly smile, cleared her throat dramatically.

“Well, well, well,” she drawled, crossing her arms and arching a perfectly sculpted brow. “Someone looks absolutely smitten. Care to explain, Honey?”

You felt your face heat up, a sheepish grin spreading as you tried (and failed) to play it cool. “It’s nothing, Rebekah,” you mumbled, though the excitement in your voice gave you away.

“Oh, please,” Rebekah laughed, nudging you with her shoulder as she took a seat next to you on the couch. “You’ve been floating around like a lovestruck fool these past few days. Spill it, Y/n. I want all the details.”

You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment. But you and Rebekah were best friends, and if anyone would understand how complicated things had become, it was her. With a deep breath, you finally confessed, “It’s Damon. He just asked me out, well, sort of. He asked if I’d go on a double date with him, his brother, and Elena.”

Rebekah’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across her face as she squealed in excitement. “Oh, Y/n! This is huge! A double date? With Damon Salvatore?” She nudged you, her eyes glinting with mischief. “This isn’t just some casual invite, sweetheart. Double dates are serious business.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, Rebekah’s enthusiasm contagious. “It’s just dinner and drinks,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though you knew your attempt was weak at best. “But… I don’t know. I think it could be fun.”

“Fun? Y/n, this is a big deal,” Rebekah insisted, her face lighting up. “I haven’t seen Damon this interested in anyone in years. And honestly, after what Kol did, you deserve this. You deserve someone who actually knows what they have.”

The mention of Kol caused a brief pang in your chest, but the pain wasn’t as sharp as it had been before. Damon had been there for you when Kol broke your heart, helping you pick up the pieces. And now, as you thought about the prospect of going out with Damon, it felt like you were finally letting yourself move forward.

Rebekah leaned in closer, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “So, tell me everything. How did this even start? Last I checked, you and Damon were just… friends, right?”

You hesitated, but Rebekah’s curiosity only fueled your excitement. “I don’t even know, honestly. After everything that happened with Kol… I guess Damon just made things easier. He never tried to pry or ask how I was feeling, you know? He just made me laugh. And then, I don’t know, something just… clicked.”

Rebekah grinned, looking incredibly pleased. “I knew it! I always thought there was something between you two, even when you were with Kol. Damon’s too protective over you to be just a friend.”

The truth in her words made you pause. Damon had been protective of you, watching out for you when Kol’s betrayal left you shattered. And there had been moments, small, fleeting glances, lingering touches, that you’d brushed off as mere friendship. But now, thinking back, you couldn’t deny that there had always been a spark.

“He’s… different,” you admitted softly, looking down at your hands. “I know he has this bad reputation, but with me, he’s… I don’t know, he’s just Damon. He makes me feel like I’m not broken.”

Rebekah reached over, squeezing your hand gently. “That’s because he sees you for who you really are, Y/n. Not as someone’s ex, not as someone who’s hurting, just you.”

The warmth in her words made you smile, feeling a weight lift from your chest. You’d spent so long believing that Kol was your only chance at happiness, that you’d overlooked the one person who’d been there all along.

“So,” Rebekah continued, her grin turning mischievous again, “what are you going to wear?”

You laughed, the tension melting as you rolled your eyes at her excitement. “Honestly, I haven’t even thought about it yet. Damon hasn’t told me the details. I don’t even know where we’re going.”

Rebekah waved a dismissive hand, a determined look flashing in her eyes. “Well, that doesn’t matter. We’re going to make sure you look absolutely stunning. If Damon’s taking you on a proper date, then you’re going to knock his socks off.”

She stood up, pulling you to your feet and guiding you towards your wardrobe. You followed her, unable to resist the infectious energy in her voice. Together, you began rifling through your clothes, Rebekah tossing options onto the bed as she offered commentary on each one.

“Oh, this would be perfect,” she said, holding up a sleek black dress. “Something classy but not too over-the-top. Damon’s already wrapped around your finger; this will just seal the deal.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s just one date, Rebekah. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

But as you looked down at the dress in her hands, a small thrill of excitement rushed through you. You couldn’t help but imagine Damon’s reaction, his eyes lighting up as he saw you walk into the room. Maybe it was just one date, but for the first time in a long while, you felt hopeful.

Rebekah’s eyes softened as she took in your smile. “You deserve this, Y/n. After everything, you deserve someone who makes you feel like this.”

You nodded, her words filling you with a renewed sense of confidence. Damon had seen you at your worst, had been there when Kol left, and hadn’t judged or pitied you. He simply made you feel… alive.

As you stood there with Rebekah, discussing every little detail of the date, you felt a warmth spread through your chest, a quiet happiness that you hadn’t felt in a long time

The following evening, Damon found himself standing outside your apartment, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by a hint of nervousness. He’d put on a well-fitted black button-down, and for once, he’d even brushed his hair, trying to look a little more put-together than usual. As he knocked on the door, he mentally braced himself, hoping you wouldn’t see through his attempt at playing it cool.

The door opened, and there you were, looking radiant in a simple yet elegant dress that brought out the sparkle in your eyes. Damon felt his heart full of happiness, momentarily forgetting his own name as you smiled up at him.

“You’re early,” You teased, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t take you for the punctual type.”

He smirked, shrugging nonchalantly. “What can I say? Some people are worth showing up on time for.”

Before you could respond, Damon offered you his arm, his smirk softening as he looked down at you. “You ready for a night of painfully awkward double-dating?”

You laughed, taking his arm as you and him walked down the stairs. “I’m ready if you are. Who knew you had a normal date in you, Salvatore?”

“Only for you, princess,” he replied, and though his tone was playful, there was a warmth in his voice that left you momentarily speechless.

Before you could respond, the doors of the restaurant opened, and Stefan and Elena emerged, both smiling warmly as they approached. Elena greeted you with an enthusiastic hug, while Stefan gave you a polite nod.

“Y/n, you look amazing!” Elena said, her smile genuine. “This is going to be fun. Damon actually behaving on a date is rare enough to be a show in itself.”

“Hey, I’m perfectly capable of behaving,” Damon quipped, pretending to be offended. “I just choose not to most of the time. It keeps life interesting.”

You stifled a laugh, glancing over at Stefan, who gave you a knowing look. “Believe it or not, this is him trying his best to impress you,” Stefan whispered to you, a grin tugging at his lips.

The four of you settled into a cozy corner booth inside the restaurant, where dim candlelight flickered between the four of you casting a warm glow over the polished wood table. Damon took the seat beside you, his knee brushing against your under the table. You felt a spark of electricity at the touch, wondering if he’d done it on purpose. He didn’t pull away, so you assumed he had.

As the waiter brought the menus, Damon leaned over, looking at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “So, what do you think? I figured you’d appreciate the authenticity, no garlic, of course, given the company.”

You snickered, trying not to be too charmed. “You’re saying you brought me to a vampire-safe restaurant? How considerate of you.”

Elena laughed from across the table, nudging Stefan. “Damon actually being thoughtful? Who knew?”

Stefan smirked, casting a glance at his brother. “I think it’s Y/n’s influence. She brings out the… softer side of him.”

Damon rolled his eyes, though you noticed a hint of a blush on his face. “Alright, alright, enough with the brotherly observations. Let’s just focus on the food, shall we?”

As the four of you ordered appetizers, the conversation turned light, covering topics like movies, music, and the occasional humorous story about Mystic Falls and its array of supernatural chaos. you found yourself relaxing, letting go of the usual guardedness you wore around people. Elena and Stefan made it easy, they both seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you beyond just your connection with Damon.

After a while, Elena leaned in, giving you a curious look. “So, Y/n, tell me… what’s it like being with Damon?” Her tone was playful, but you could sense a genuine curiosity there, too. Elena had her own history with Damon, but she seemed genuinely supportive of whatever was happening between him and you.

You chuckled, glancing over at Damon, who was pretending to be overly engrossed in his wine glass. “Honestly? It’s a bit of an adventure. You never really know what to expect. But he has this… surprising side that I didn’t expect. He’s a lot more thoughtful than he lets on.”

Damon cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed but also amused. “Oh, please, keep flattering me. I’ll get a big head,” he joked, though his hand subtly found its way to yours under the table, his thumb brushing your knuckles gently.

Stefan shook his head, smirking. “Y/n’s right. Damon hides behind sarcasm and arrogance, but deep down, he’s just a sentimental softy.”

Damon shot his brother a look, but you could feel the warmth radiating from him. There was something vulnerable in the way he held you, as though he was grateful for presence in a way words couldn’t fully capture.

As the main courses arrived, the conversation shifted, dipping into more personal memories and stories of Mystic Falls’ supernatural side. Damon seemed at ease, sharing memories with Stefan, trading inside jokes with Elena, and occasionally casting glances at you as though you were the one keeping him grounded amidst it all.

At one point, Stefan brought up a story from when they were children, running around the Salvatores’ old family estate. “Damon used to sneak out at night to meet girls in the village,” Stefan revealed with a laugh, “but he’d always get caught because he was terrible at sneaking back in.”

“Oh, so you were always a troublemaker,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

Damon grinned, leaning closer to you. “I like to think I’m just adventurous. Keeps life from getting too predictable.”

Elena smiled, watching Damon and you with a look of fondness. “You two balance each other out. It’s nice seeing him happy. He doesn’t let his guard down easily.”

You looked over at Damon, your and his eyes meeting, and for a moment, everything else faded. In his gaze, you saw a depth of feeling he rarely allowed anyone to see. You realized that beneath the sarcasm, arrogance, and rebellious streak, Damon was simply someone who wanted to be understood and accepted.

As dessert was served, Damon leaned back, looking around the table with a satisfied grin. “Well, I think we can all agree this was a successful night. No bloodshed, no dramatics, just good food, decent company, and no supernatural shenanigans. A rare thing for us.”

You raise your glass, smirking. “I’ll drink to that. Here’s to normalcy, well, as close as we’ll get to it, anyway.”

You all clinked their glasses, laughter filling the cozy little restaurant. As the evening wound down, Damon offered to walk you home, leaving Stefan and Elena to settle the bill.

Outside, the cool night air enveloped you two as you and Damon strolled down the quiet streets. Damon’s arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading through your chest. This night felt different. It was simple, but it had given you a glimpse into something real, a chance to be with Damon without the chaos that usually surrounded the two of you.

He stopped in front of your apartment, turning to face you with that familiar smirk softened by the sincerity in his gaze. “So, what’s the verdict, princess? Did I do alright?”

You pretended to think, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “You know, I think you actually behaved yourself. It’s impressive.”

Damon chuckled, stepping closer until there was barely any space between the two of you. “Only because you’re worth it.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It was soft, almost tentative, as if he was afraid of breaking whatever had formed between the two of . You and you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, feeling your heart race with a mixture of excitement and hope.

When you and he finally pulled apart, Damon looked down at you with a mixture of affection and amusement. “You might be dangerous for me, Y/n,” he murmured. “But I think I’m willing to take that risk.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Good. Because I think you’re worth it too, Damon.”

And for that one perfect moment, standing under the quiet night sky, you knew you had found something rare with Damon, something worth fighting for.

The candlelit hall of the Mikaelson mansion was silent, save for the sound of wine glasses clinking and silverware scraping against fine porcelain. The entire family had gathered for dinner, a rare occasion that somehow felt heavier than usual. Klaus sat at the head of the table, swirling his wine glass, his sharp eyes flicking between his siblings. Elijah was calm, as always, and Rebekah sat across from him, occasionally glancing at her phone, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

Kol, however, had been fidgeting the entire evening. His mind was elsewhere, with Davina. It had been days since he’d chosen her over you. At the time, it felt like the right decision, a young witch who admired him, someone who saw the world in the same magical, ancient way he did. But now, as he sat there, a gnawing emptiness took hold in his chest. You. He hadn’t seen you since the day you walked on him and Davina hugging and the hurt in your eyes still haunted him, though he tried to convince himself that he had done the right thing.

Klaus leaned forward, breaking the silence. “Has anyone seen Y/n lately? She’s usually around more often than not.”

Kol froze, his grip tightening on the fork. Just the mention of your name sent a jolt through him.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow, her grin widening mischievously. “Oh, didn’t you hear? She’s on a double date tonight.”

Kol’s fork clattered to the table. He looked up sharply, his hands gripping the table roughly. “A double date?”

“With Stefan and Elena,” Rebekah continued, clearly enjoying this far too much. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. “And Damon.”

Kol’s breath hitched. Damon. You were with Damon? His mind spiraled, imagining you laughing at Damon’s sarcastic jokes, maybe even holding his hand. His stomach churned with jealousy.

“They both like each other,” Rebekah added nonchalantly, taking a sip of her wine. “You didn’t know?”

A flash of heat surged through Kol, and suddenly, the entire room seemed to blur. His pulse pounded in his ears, his vision tinged with red. Y/n? His Y/n? He shot to his feet, his chair screeching against the floor as it toppled over.

“You’re lying,” he spat, his voice shaking with fury. “She wouldn’t.”

Rebekah’s smile never wavered. “Oh, Kol, you of all people should know better than to underestimate Y/n. And besides, they’ve gotten quite cozy lately.”

Kol couldn’t breathe. He felt like the walls were closing in. Damon. He could already see Damon’s smug face, his arm casually draped around you, his cocky grin while you blushed at one of his flirtatious remarks. A wave of possessiveness crashed over him, followed by a deep, hollow pain. You were supposed to be his, but he had pushed you away, and now, someone else had taken his place.

Elijah, sensing Kol’s mounting distress, stood up. “Kol, sit down.”

But Kol didn’t listen. His mind was racing, his emotions spiraling out of control. “Where is it?” he muttered under his breath, shoving past the table. He stormed down the hall, searching wildly. “Where’s my bloody bat?”

Klaus frowned, sharing a glance with Elijah before rising to follow his brother. “Kol, what are you doing?” His voice was stern, but there was an undercurrent of amusement. “You’re not seriously going after Damon, are you?”

Kol found the bat, an old, worn wooden weapon he had used in fits of rage before, and grabbed it, his knuckles white as he clenched it tightly. “He doesn’t deserve her,” Kol growled, his voice raw with emotion. “She’s mine.”

Elijah stepped in front of him, his hand raised in a calming gesture. “Kol, this is not the way to handle it.”

But Kol couldn’t hear him, the pain in his chest too much to bear. His knees buckled, and before he knew it, he had dropped the bat, his hands covering his face as a sob tore from his throat.

“She’s mine, Elijah,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “My darling. I… I didn’t realize what I had until it was too late.”

Klaus looked at Kol, his expression softening. For all his bravado, his younger brother was breaking apart right in front of him. He stepped forward, placing a hand on Kol’s shoulder. “Kol, you made your choice.”

“But I chose wrong!” Kol cried, his tears falling freely now. “I thought… I thought Davina was what I wanted, but it’s Y/n. It’s always been Y/n.” He sank to the floor, defeated, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs. “I’ve lost her.”

Rebekah, who had been watching from the doorway, stepped forward, her teasing demeanor gone. She knelt beside Kol, gently brushing his hair away from his face. “You haven’t lost her yet, Kol,” she said softly. “But if you don’t fix this, if you let Damon have her… you’ll never get her back.”

“Please,” Kol whispered, his voice barely audible. “Help me.”

Klaus, Rebekah, and Elijah exchanged a glance. They might be a dysfunctional family, but they always stood by each other, especially when one of them was truly broken.

Rebekah squeezed Kol’s hand gently. “We’ll figure it out,” she promised. “But you need to act fast.”

The Mikaelson siblings gathered in the dimly lit room, the air thick with tension as they strategized on how to help Kol win you back. Klaus leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression contemplative. “We need to remind her of what she means to Kol,” he said, his voice steady. “He may have chosen Davina in the past, but Y/N is someone who can bring out the best in him.”

Rebekah chimed in, her enthusiasm infectious. “We should plan something grand! A gesture that shows Kol’s true feelings. Maybe a romantic evening at the place they used to go together?”

Elijah nodded, adding, “It needs to be more than just a gesture. Kol must confront his past mistakes and show Y/N that he’s willing to fight for her, not just for his own happiness but for theirs together.”

After a long night filled with planning and trying to unwind, you finally collapsed onto the sofa in the Salvatore living room. Damon had gone to fetch a bottle of bourbon to “celebrate surviving another day without getting killed,” as he put it, while Elena and Stefan lingered in the kitchen, discussing the next steps in your quest for the cure. It was an oddly peaceful moment after the intensity of the evening, the quiet allowing you to sink into your thoughts.

Your phone buzzed on the cushion next to you. You glanced down to see Rebekah’s name lighting up the screen, her message popping up beneath it. “How was your little double date, darling? Are you and Damon actually being civil for once, or did he make it awkward?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at your best friend’s playful teasing. Rebekah had always been vocal about her distaste for Damon’s attitude, even more so now that you were dating him. She had been cautiously supportive of your decision, though not without her share of doubts. You quickly tapped out a response.

“It was fine, actually. Elena and Stefan were their usual cheerful selves, and Damon was…well, Damon. You know how he is.”

Rebekah’s reply came almost immediately. “So, he was brooding and acting like the world revolves around him? Sounds about right. Tell me you didn’t let him get away with that all night.”

You chuckled softly, glancing toward the kitchen to make sure no one was within earshot before typing back “I gave him plenty of sass, don’t worry. He wouldn’t get away with brooding around me. Though, to be fair, he did manage to be charming, too. In his own way.”

The pause before Rebekah’s next reply felt longer than it should have, her response more serious than before “I still can’t believe you’re doing this, Y/N. You and Damon… It just feels so…sudden. I know you’re happy, but are you really sure about him?”

Before you could reply to her text message. Elena sat with you in the cozy living room, the warm glow of the fireplace casting soft shadows around the room. She watched you with a gentle smile as you adjusted the hem of your dress, a thoughtful look on her face.

After a moment, Elena cleared her throat, and you looked up to see her eyes fixed on you, sincere and warm.

“Y/n,” she began, her voice soft yet steady, “I just wanted to say… I’m really happy that Damon found someone like you.” She leaned forward, her gaze filled with kindness. “He deserves happiness, more than most people realize. He tries to act all tough, but deep down, I think he just wants someone who understands him.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at her words, feeling the familiar rush of emotions you’d come to associate with Damon. It was strange hearing Elena, of all people, talk about Damon this way. After everything between her and Damon, you weren’t sure how she would feel about you being with him. And truthfully, a small part of you had been worried that it would make things awkward. But Elena’s smile was genuine, her warmth unmistakable.

“Thank you, Elena,” you said softly, returning your smile. “I think… I think he really understands me, too. I never thought I’d feel this way about him, but… here we are.” You laughed, a bit nervously, glancing down at your hands. “I’m just glad you’re okay with it. I wouldn’t want it to make things weird between us.”

Elena’s eyes softened as she reached over and placed a hand on yours. “It won’t. I promise. Actually, I wanted to tell you that… I really want to be friends with you, Y/n. My past with Damon… well, it’s exactly that. The past. I don’t want it to come between us, or for you to feel uncomfortable.”

You felt a sense of relief wash over you. “That means a lot to me, Elena. Honestly, I was a little worried. I know how close you and Damon were.”

Elena nodded, understanding the hint of concern in your voice. “I get it. But you have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen the way Damon looks at you, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. Not even me.” She let out a small laugh, almost as if she were surprised by her own words. “You bring out a side of him that I don’t think he even knew he had.”

Her words filled you with a mixture of warmth and reassurance. The fact that Elena, someone who had known Damon so well and had shared so much with him, could support your relationship with him meant more than you could put into words.

“It’s funny,” you said, a shy smile tugging at your lips, “I never would’ve thought Damon could be this… soft. But with me, he’s so different. He makes me laugh, and he listens in a way that makes me feel seen. I think… I think he really cares about me.”

Elena’s smile grew, her eyes shining with understanding. “He does, Y/n. I can see it. And to be honest, I think he’s been waiting a long time for someone like you.” She paused, her gaze turning a bit wistful as she looked towards the flickering flames in the fireplace. “Damon has his faults, sure, but I believe there’s always been this good part of him, just waiting for someone to bring it out. I just didn’t think it would be possible… until now.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift from your chest. “Thank you, Elena. I was so nervous about how you’d feel. I don’t want this to get in the way of anything, especially between you, Stefan, and Damon. You three have such a complicated history.”

Elena nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It’s true. Things between us have always been… complicated.” She let out a small sigh, a mixture of nostalgia and acceptance in her voice. “But you know, we’ve all grown. I’ve realized that sometimes people come into your life to show you parts of yourself you never knew were there. Damon did that for me, and in a way, so did Stefan.”

She looked at you, her smile tinged with sincerity. “But seeing him with you… it’s different. It’s like he’s found something he didn’t even know he was missing. And I think it’s safe to say that I want to be here for both of you, as a friend.”

You felt your heart swell with gratitude as you reached over and hugged her, feeling her arms wrap around you in a warm embrace. “Thank you, Elena. Really. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend.”

When you both pulled back, she laughed, wiping a small tear from the corner of her eye. “Oh, look at me, getting all emotional. Damon would probably roll his eyes if he knew we were having this talk.”

The both of you shared a laugh, imagining Damon’s reaction. Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs. Damon and Stefan appeared, Damon looking slightly awkward as he adjusted his collar, glancing between the two of you with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s this? A secret meeting?” he teased, a hint of suspicion in his voice as he looked between you and Elena.

Elena grinned, giving him a mischievous look. “Nothing you need to worry about, Damon. Just girl talk.”

Stefan chuckled, slipping his arm around Elena’s shoulders. “Trust me, brother, you don’t want to know. They’re probably talking about how to keep you in line.”

Damon scoffed, though there was a playful gleam in his eyes as he gave you a smirk. “Well, good luck with that, ladies. I’m not exactly known for playing by the rules.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. “Trust me, I’ve noticed.”

Damon’s eyes softened as he held your gaze, a hint of something deeper flickering beneath his playful exterior. The way he looked at you in that moment sent a wave of warmth through your chest, a feeling of certainty that left you breathless.

Clearing his throat, Damon extended his arm to you. “Ready, Y/n?” His smirk softened, his voice filled with genuine excitement. “Let’s go show these two how it’s done.”

Taking his arm, you felt a surge of excitement and anticipation. You glanced back at Elena, who gave you an encouraging smile, and then at Stefan, who simply nodded, his own expression filled with quiet approval. With Damon by your side and Elena’s friendship secured, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

As you left the house, Damon led you out onto the porch, casting a lingering glance your way. He leaned in, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “By the way, thanks for being so patient with all… this.” He gestured vaguely toward the house, as if encompassing the entire complicated history of his family and friends.

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. “It’s worth it, Damon. Every single part of it.”

His eyes lingered on you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. And for the first time, you felt like you were stepping into something new, with Damon at your side and Elena’s friendship by your side, a future that, despite everything, felt bright.

The bright afternoon sun filtered through the trees as Damon and Elena stood in line, waiting to buy the tickets for the movie. It was their second double date, and despite their past, Damon felt strangely comfortable with Elena at his side, like two old friends moving past all the complications. There was an ease in their silence as they stood together, both scanning the colorful posters lining the theater wall.

Elena glanced over at Damon, her expression thoughtful. “You know,” she began softly, breaking the comfortable silence, “I really am happy for you, Damon. Seeing you with Y/n… it’s nice. She’s a good match for you.”

Damon raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. “Are you really, though? Last time I checked, you were the one dealing with my so-called charm.” He shot her a teasing grin.

Elena laughed, nudging him playfully. “Believe it or not, yes, I’m happy for you. And I mean it. We’ve both been through enough, and it’s… it’s just time to let it all go. The past is behind us.”

Damon’s smile softened as he took in her words. “I couldn’t agree more, Elena. We had our time, and it shaped us. But Y/n… she’s my future. Being with her feels like a fresh start.”

Elena’s gaze turned serious, her tone softening as she continued, “That’s good, Damon. I just want you to be happy. But…” She paused, a hint of playful warning entering her voice. “If you ever hurt her, you’re going to regret it. Y/n means a lot to me, and I won’t just sit back and watch her get hurt.”

Damon chuckled, feigning innocence. “Me? Hurt her? Not even on my radar. Besides,” his expression turned earnest, “I’m not even thinking about it. I love her, Elena. For the first time, it feels real. I don’t want to mess this up.”

She studied him for a moment, as if weighing the truth in his words, before her face softened into a smile. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

Damon’s grin returned, and he leaned a little closer, his tone laced with mischief. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me you’re going to threaten me? The ex-girlfriend protection squad?”

Elena crossed her arms, a smug smile dancing on her lips. “Oh, definitely. Us girls have to stick together, Damon. Sorry, no hard feelings.”

Damon put a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Rude! Here I thought you’d be on my side. I see how it is now.”

Elena laughed, rolling her eyes. “Hey, I only said that I’m happy for you. But when it comes to Y/n, I’ve got her back. Deal with it.”

Damon let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Well, good thing I don’t have any intentions of messing this up, or I’d be in trouble with the Elena Gilbert Mafia.”

Elena smirked, nodding. “You’d better believe it. So keep that in mind, alright?” She bumped her shoulder against his in a playful, almost sisterly way, and Damon couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of peace wash over him. It was like a bridge between their complicated past and the simple present they’d found with each other’s support.

Just then, he spotted you and Stefan emerging from the snack bar, arms loaded with popcorn and drinks. You were laughing at something Stefan said, your whole face lighting up, and Damon’s heart swelled at the sight.

Elena followed his gaze, a smile softening her features. “Come on,” she said, nudging him, “let’s go join our soulmates.”

Damon let out a laugh, throwing her a teasing look. “Oh, so now we’re officially double-dating soulmates? How romantic.”

Elena rolled her eyes, but her expression was warm. “Hey, I’m just happy I don’t have to deal with the two of you alone anymore. Now I have backup.”

Damon shot her a grin. “Fair enough. But for the record, if you need backup, I’ve got you too.”

They walked over to you and Stefan, their laughter fading as you all gathered together. Stefan handed a large tub of popcorn to Elena and turned to Damon with a knowing smirk.

“All set?” Stefan asked, glancing between you and Damon with a hint of amusement.

Damon wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close with an affectionate smile. “More than ready,” he replied, giving you a wink.

You laughed, reaching over to loop your arm around his. “Good. I can’t wait to see if this movie actually lives up to the hype.”

As the four of you entered the theater, Damon exchanged a glance with Elena, a silent understanding passing between them. The past was behind them, but it was clear that your presence in his life had brought a peace Damon hadn’t known before.

In the dim light of the theater, Damon held your hand, feeling your warmth, and knew he’d finally found his place.

In the grand dining hall of the Mikaelson estate, Klaus, Rebekah, Elijah, and Kol sat around a massive, candlelit table, deep in conversation. They’d gathered to discuss Kol’s situation with you, each sibling giving their opinion on how to help him win you back.

Klaus leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Kol, dear brother, it’s clear you made a grave mistake choosing Davina. But all is not lost. I suggest a grand gesture, a reminder of everything you and Y/n shared.”

Rebekah rolled her eyes, though her tone was sympathetic. “Or you could try a more subtle approach, Kol. Something that shows Y/n you’ve changed, that you’re worth her time. Rushing in with theatrics will only make things worse.”

Kol frowned, clearly conflicted. “But she’s with Damon now. She’s found a place with him, with the Salvatores. How can I get her to see that I’m the one she belongs with?”

Elijah, ever calm and wise, looked at Kol thoughtfully. “Sometimes, winning someone back is less about grand gestures and more about simply being there, showing her what she meant to you. Perhaps you should try spending time around her without expectation.”

Kol’s jaw tightened, his emotions raw. He missed you deeply, and seeing you with Damon had stirred a painful jealousy. But his siblings’ support filled him with a renewed sense of determination. He nodded slowly, his mind already churning through ideas.

Meanwhile, across town in the Salvatore house, you sat beside Damon, Elena, and Stefan, the four of you huddled around a small table, absorbed in your plans. The first goal was to find the cure for vampirism, a chance for each of you to return to a human life. It was something Damon, Stefan, Elena, and you had long dreamed about, and now, it felt closer than ever.

“So, the cure,” Damon said, his voice thoughtful as he looked around at each of you. “Once we take it, there’s no going back.”

Elena reached across the table, placing her hand on his. “I know. But this is what we’ve always wanted. And… I can’t imagine a better way to live than with you.” She looked over at you and Stefan, a warm smile lighting up her face. “With all of us.”

Stefan nodded, his gaze steady. “Once we’re human again, we’ll be free of everything, the bloodlust, the compulsion, the endless need to hide who we are. And we can have lives together. Actual lives.”

You squeezed Damon’s hand, a smile spreading across your face. “And then,” you added, voice softening, “we can plan the second part of our plan, the wedding.”

Damon’s eyes sparkled as he looked at you, his grin widening. “Ah, yes, the wedding. The real prize at the end of all this.”

Stefan smirked. “And just think, double the wedding gifts.” He winked at Elena, who laughed, her face lighting up with excitement.

Elena looked around the table, her eyes bright. “This is what we’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A normal life. Something beyond all the chaos and danger. It’s finally within reach.”

Damon squeezed your hand again, his voice low but full of conviction. “And I promise, Y/n, nothing and no one is going to ruin this for us.”

As the Mikaelsons huddled over their plans, determined to bring you back into their lives, you and Elena were on a very different mission. Sitting side by side on the couch in the Salvatore living room, you both scrolled through images of beautiful wedding venues on your tablets, occasionally pointing out locations that caught your eye. The two of you were beaming with excitement, savoring every detail of planning a future you’d longed for.

“Oh, look at this one!” Elena said, leaning closer to show you a breathtaking venue nestled by a lake, surrounded by towering trees and a blanket of flowers. “Imagine a sunset ceremony here.”

You let out a small gasp, enchanted by the natural beauty of the place. “It’s perfect. And imagine the pictures, especially with that golden hour lighting!” You scrolled further, admiring the elegant yet simple decorations. “This might just be the one.”

Elena grinned, sharing in your excitement. “We’re getting so close to making this real, Y/n. I can’t believe it!”

The two of you giggled like schoolgirls, immersed in the magic of wedding planning. The idea of finally escaping the supernatural life and starting fresh together was surreal yet thrilling.

Meanwhile, across the room, Damon and Stefan sat together, laptops open, their focus entirely on engagement rings. Damon’s brows were furrowed in concentration as he scrolled through a range of rings, from classic solitaires to intricate vintage designs, determined to find the one that would capture everything he felt for you.

“What do you think of this one?” Damon asked, showing Stefan a delicate, emerald-cut diamond set in a simple platinum band.

Stefan nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s a good choice. Classy, elegant… very you.”

Damon shot him a mock glare. “You mean very Y/n.” He chuckled, clicking through a few more options, each one more dazzling than the last.

Stefan held up his own laptop, showing a ring he’d picked for Elena. “I think this might be the one,” he said, glancing at his brother for approval. It was a timeless piece, a round diamond set in a halo of smaller stones, with a vintage band.

Damon studied it thoughtfully. “You’re really going all out. She’ll love it.”

As the brothers continued their search, there was a shared, quiet anticipation between them. The rings represented not just a promise but the new life they were about to step into, a life that, for once, held the possibility of peace and joy.

After hours of scrolling, laughing, and debating, you and Elena had finally made your choice. You’d settled on a breathtaking lakeside venue with twinkling lights and a natural archway woven from branches and wildflowers. For the dresses, you’d chosen delicate, timeless designs with a touch of elegance, perfect for an outdoor celebration. Everything felt like a dream slowly coming together.

As you and Elena sat back, satisfied with your decisions, the boys exchanged a silent, knowing look. Damon and Stefan had found the rings, each unique and beautiful, symbols of the forever you were all stepping into together.

Damon reached over, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, his face softening as he looked at you. “Well, looks like we’re ready for the next big step,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and love.

Elena grinned, nudging Stefan playfully. “We did it! We’re really making this happen.”

The four of you exchanged looks filled with excitement and a touch of disbelief, savoring the quiet joy of knowing you’d soon have a life beyond the supernatural battles and betrayals.

But, miles away, in the shadows of the Mikaelson estate, another plan was falling into place. Kol Mikaelson stood in front of his siblings, a newfound determination in his gaze as he listened to their strategy. Rebekah, though supportive, was skeptical, eyeing Kol warily as he voiced his intentions.

“You’re really sure about this, Kol?” Rebekah asked, her arms crossed.

Kol smirked, a gleam in his eye, though there was a surprising gentleness in his tone. “Absolutely, Bekah. I lost her once, but I won’t make that mistake again. She’s the one.” His face softened as he thought of you, his gaze distant but filled with a quiet longing.

Klaus, ever the strategist, studied Kol with a sharp, calculating gaze. “Then go to her,” he said smoothly, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. “Make her remember why she fell for you in the first place.”

Kol took a steadying breath, his voice a murmur as if speaking directly to you, even though you were miles away, oblivious to his approach. “Here I come for you, darling.”

[nostalgebraist]

thoughts on xDOTcom/CorralSummer/status/1823504569097175056 tumblrDOTcom/antinegationism/758845963819450368 ?

I mostly try to ignore AI art debates, and as a result I feel like I don't have enough context to make sense of that twitter exchange. That said...

It's about generative image models, and whether they "are compression." Which seems to mean something like "whether they contain compressed representations of their training images."

I can see two reasons why partisans in the AI art wars might care about this question:

If a training image is actually "written down" inside the model, in some compressed form that can be "read off" of the weights, it would then be easier to argue that a copyright on the image applies to the model weights themselves. Or to make similar claims about art theft, etc. that aren't about copyright per se.

If the model "merely" consists of a bunch of compressed images, together with some comparatively simple procedure for mixing/combining their elements together (so that most of the complexity is in the images, not the "combining procedure"), this would support the contention that the model is not "creative," is not "intelligent," is "merely copying art by humans," etc.

I think the stronger claim in #2 is clearly false, and this in turn has implications for #1.

(For simplicity I'll just use "#2", below, as a shorthand for "the stronger claim in #2," i.e. the thing about compressed images + simple combination procedure)

I can't present, or even summarize, the full range of the evidence against #2 in this brief post. There's simply too much of it. Virtually everything we know about neural networks militates against #2, in one way or another.

The whole of NN interpretability conflicts with #2. When we actually look at the internals of neural nets and what is being "represented" there, we rarely find anything that is specialized to a single training example, like a single image. We find things that are more generally applicable, across many different images: representations that mean "there's a curved line here" or "there's a floppy ear here" or "there's a dog's head here."

The linked post is about an image classifier (and a relatively primitive one), not an image generator, but we've also found similar things inside of generative models (e.g.).

I also find it difficult to understand how anyone could seriously believe #2 after actually using these models for any significant span of time, in any nontrivial way. The experience is just... not anything like what you would expect, if you thought they were "pasting together" elements from specific artworks in some simplistic, collage-like way. You can ask them for wild conjunctions of many different elements and styles, which have definitely never been represented before in any image, and the resulting synthesis will happen at a very high, humanlike level of abstraction.

And it is noteworthy that, even in the most damning cases where a model reliably generates images that are highly similar to some obviously copyrighted ones, it doesn't actually produce exact duplicates of those images. The linked article includes many pairs of the form (copyrighted image, MidJourney generation), but the generations are vastly different from the copyrighted images on the pixel level -- they just feel "basically the same" to us, because they have the same content in terms of humanlike abstract concepts, differing only in "inessential minor details."

If the model worked by memorizing a bunch of images and then recombining elements of them, it should be easy for it to very precisely reproduce just one of the memorized images, as a special case. Whereas it would presumably be difficult for such a system to produce something "essentially the same as" a single memorized image, but differing slightly in the inessential details -- what kind of "mixture," with some other image(s), would produce this effect?

Yet it's the latter that we see in practice -- as we'd expect from a generator that works in humanlike abstractions.

And this, in turn, helps us understand what's going in in the twitter dispute about "it's either compression or magic" vs. "how could you compress so much down to so few GB?"

Say you want to make a computer display some particular picture. Of, I dunno, a bird. (The important thing is that it's a specific picture, the kind that could be copyrighted.)

The simplest way to do this is just to have the computer store the image as a bitmap of pixels, without any compression.

In this case, it's unambiguous that the image itself is being represented in the computer, with all the attendant copyright (etc.) implications. It's right there. You can read it off, pixel by pixel.

But maybe this takes up too much computer memory. So you try using a simple form of compression, like JPEG compression.

JPEG compression is pretty simple. It doesn't "know" much about what images tend to look like in practice; effectively, it just "knows" that they tend to be sort of "smooth" at the small scale, so that one tiny region often has similar colors/intensities to neighboring tiny regions.

Just knowing this one simple fact gets you a significant reduction in file size, though. (The size of this reduction is a typical reference point for people's intuitions about what "compression" can, and can't, do.)

And here, again, it's relatively clear that the image is represented in the computer. You have to do some work to "unpack" it, but it's simple work, using an algorithm simple enough that a human can hold the whole thing in their mind at once. (There is probably at least one person in existence, I imagine, who can visualize what the encoded image looks like when they look at the raw bytes of a JPEG file, like those guys in The Matrix watching the green text fall across their terminal screens.)

But now, what if you had a system that had a whole elaborate library of general visual concepts, and could ably draw these concepts if asked, and could draw them in any combination?

You no longer need to lay out anything like a bitmap, a "copy" of the image arranged in space, tile by tile, color/intensity unit by color/intensity unit.

It's a bird? Great, the system knows what birds look like. This particular bird is an oriole? The system knows orioles. It's in profile? The system knows the general concept of "human or animal seen in profile," and how to apply it to an oriole.

Your encoding of the image, thus far, is a noting-down of these concepts. It takes very little space, just a few bits of information: "Oriole? YES. In profile? YES."

The picture is a close-up photograph? One more bit. Under bright, more-white-than-yellow light? One more bit. There's shallow depth of field, and the background is mostly a bright green blur, some indistinct mass of vegetation? Zero bits: the system's already guessed all that, from what images of this sort tend to be like. (You'd have to spend bits to get anything except the green blur.)

Eventually, we come to the less essential details -- all the things that make your image really this one specific image, and not any of the other close-up shots of orioles that exist in the world. The exact way the head is tilted. The way the branch, that it sits on, is slightly bent at its tip.

This is where most of the bits are spent. You have to spend bits to get all of these details right, and the more "arbitrary" the details are -- the less easy they are to guess, on the basis of everything else -- the more bits you have to spend on them.

But, because your first and most abstract bits bought you so much, you can express your image quite precisely, and still use far less room than JPEG compression would use, or any other algorithm that comes to mind when people say the word "compression."

It is easy to "compress" many specific images inside a system that understands general visual concepts, because most of the content of an image is generic, not unique to that image alone.

The ability to convey all of the non-unique content very briefly is precisely what provides us enough room to write down all the unique content, alongside it.

This is basically the way in which specific images are "represented" inside Stable Diffusion and MidJourney and the like, insofar as they are. Which they are, not as a general rule, but occasionally, in the case of certain specific images -- due to their ubiquity in the real world and hence in the training data, or due to some deliberate over-sampling of them in that data.

(In the case of MidJourney and the copyrighted images, I suspect the model was [over-?]heavily trained on those specific images -- perhaps because they were thought to exemplify the "epic," cinematic MidJourney house style -- and it has thus stored more of their less-essential details than it has with most training images. Typical regurgitations from image generators are less precise than those examples, more "abstract" in their resemblance to the originals -- just the easy, early bits, with fewer of the expensive less-essential details.)

But now -- is your image of the oriole "represented" in computer memory, in this last case? Is the system "compressing" it, "storing" it in a way that can be "read off"?

In some sense, yes. In some sense, no.

This is a philosophical question, really, about what makes your image itself, and not any of the other images of orioles in profile against blurred green backgrounds.

Remember that even MidJourney can't reproduce those copyrighted images exactly. It just makes images that are "basically the same."

Whatever is "stored" there is not, actually, a copy of each copyrighted image. It's something else, something that isn't the original, but which we deem too close to the original for our comfort. Something of which we say: "it's different, yes, but only in the inessential details."

But what, exactly, counts as an "inessential detail"? How specific is too specific? How precise is too precise?

If the oriole is positioned just a bit differently on the branch... if there is a splash of pink amid the green blur, a flower, in the original but not the copy, or vice versa...

When does it stop being a copy of your image, and start being merely an image that shares a lot in common with yours? It is not obvious where to draw the line. "Details" seem to span a whole continuous range of general-to-specific, with no obvious cutoff point.

And if we could, somehow, strip out all memory of all the "sufficiently specific details" from one of these models -- which might be an interesting research direction! -- so that what remains is only the model's capacity to depict "abstract concepts" in conjunction?

If we could? It's not clear how far that would get us, actually.

If you can draw a man with all of Super Mario's abstract attributes, then you can draw Super Mario. (And if you cannot, then you are missing some important concept or concepts about people and pictures, and this will hinder you in your attempts to draw other, non-copyrighted entities.)

If you can draw an oriole, in profile, and a branch, and a green blur, then you can draw an oriole in profile on a branch against a green blur. And all the finer details? If one wants them, the right prompt should produce them.

There is no way to stop a sufficiently capable artist from imitating what you have done, if it can imitate all of the elements of which your creation is made, in any imaginable combination.

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Donatello's First Love—Splinter's Talk

mostly bayverse, could be 2003 if you squint hard enough. did it a little different with this one compared to the others :0 word count: 1.6k

Spanning his messy corner of the Lair, Donnie's many monitors mounted to the wall were alight with a blue glow. The same few camera feeds rotated between the locations outside of their home and other places, monitoring, and allowing surveillance to take a backseat in his mind while he worked. At his desk, he gently squeezed a pipette into the mouth of a breaker, waiting for the reaction he was looking for to occur. 

"Interesting," he mumbled to himself, "I wonder what happens if I were to supercool the mixture." 

He placed the substance in a tray and prepared another batch, this time, much more concentrated. There wasn't much to do around the house besides experiment with the materials he'd salvaged. That was fine; he enjoyed the process, and filling notebooks—and his walls—to the brim with chemical equations, notes and mathematics that hardly anyone but he could read. 

Careful with his large fingers to not drop the pipette, he sucked a few drops up from the test tube, going in to add to the mixture. He squinted, almost there. And then the startling alarm pinged on the screen next to him, making him jump and squirt the chemical on his work surface. He quickly wiped up and looked over at the computer. "'Motion detected: [y/n]'s apartment complex'," the screen read, switching camera feeds to one of the multiple tiny cameras he had set up. He only put cameras where he thought it mattered; he was paranoid about an ambush, and even more so at her place than theirs, now that she was coming and going from the Lair. The likelihood of their enemies finding out her association with them was about a fifty-seven percent chance, fifty percent too much for Donnie.

He scanned the monitor for signs of anything suspicious, but it turned out to be only a friend dropping by with a key to put a package inside, with [y/n]'s permission. 

"Oh," he muttered, suddenly feeling silly. He made sure the person left her apartment—and locked it back—before quickly switching the feed. That was his one secret nobody had managed to catch him out on yet. Even so, he felt slick and a little guilty for spying. But, justifiably, they needed to know if she ever was in danger! He dismissed the notification and rotated the feeds manually. "Whoops. Sorry, [y/n]...yeah, I'll just switch that back." 

He shuffled around to resume his work titrating. Except Splinter stood curiously behind the desk, eyes trained close on the monitors, and then Donnie. Donnie flinched—Splinter usually didn't come in or near his lab. In fact, none of his family normally bothered him when he had his nose in his work, because none of them understood it. Not even Leo bothered to try to get the details. The details went over their heads. 

"So, Donatello, what is it you are working on?"

"Oh, Master Splinter," Donnie greeted him, glancing back to make sure the monitor was no longer on the door to her apartment. He picked up the pipette and test tube he'd knocked over before, "What is it?"

"Refer back to my last question," Splinter replied. He leaned calmly against his cane and looked all around the cluttered lab. Notes taped, tacked, even glued to walls. A whiteboard full of impossible equations, various pieces of technology in disrepair he'd picked up from trash and things going to recycling. Quite the mess, but Donnie knew where everything was. Splinter cocked his head slightly. "What disorganization," he commented.

"Disorganized to you," Donnie corrected with a smile, "but I can find anything I'm looking for—it's actually 'unorganized', implies that it never was organized. The definition of 'disorganized' suggests that something once was organized but now isn't, but I never once had this place in order," he rambled. 

"Donatello," Splinter interrupted. Once his son got talking, it was hard to stop him. He just had to interject to get a word in. "What is it you are doing? You have been very unfocused lately. This is strange for you."  

"Unfocused" was an understatement. With a mind already running miles per minute, he was getting caught up in his own head. Getting his work station back to a functional state, he set up his tube tray, answering, "Titrating these and writing out their chemical equations. The brain's like a muscle, gotta exercise it and stay sharp," he said. And with all that sharpness, he was only half-suspicious as to why Splinter was suddenly interested in what he was doing. 

Splinter nodded. "Then I must not have seen miss [y/n]'s apartment complex on your screen. Carry on." 

Donnie froze, watching Splinter out of the corner of his hazel eyes. His stomach dropped. So, it was one secret—they weren't going to understand, he was just as protective of their home, too! What if she couldn't call the police, or even them in time if someone broke in? Her apartment wasn't in a good area, Donatello already didn't like that. What if someone grabbed her? He couldn't put his mind at ease without knowing. 

"I—well, this was a recent development, you see," Donatello stuttered, fidgeting with the purple wraps around his hands. He realized then how weird it all looked and panicked. He'd never meant for it to go this far; his cautionary measures just kept escalating more and more with his feelings for her. "I swear, it's just outside of her place! I would never put a camera in her apartment, that would be creepy, and way overstepping," he explained. "I told her I'd always look out for her and that she can count on me."

"Oh, I suppose it's no problem, then, since she gave you such consent," Splinter said, looking away momentarily to scratch his chin. His eyes snapped back over to his anxious son and popped a hairy brow up as he knocked the end of his cane on the floor to grab his attention further. "Is that right, Donatello?" 

He wanted to go into his shell. I'm busted, this is not good. "Don't tell her! So, I, um…I didn't exactly…" The thought trailed off. He didn't need to finish that sentence for both of them to know. 

"Precisely my point. Now that we have made that clear, would you like to tell me what this is really about?" 

"No! I mean, I will, since you're asking, but—agh, I swear, I'm not a creep," he said. "I just wanted to make sure she'd be okay. That's it." 

Splinter crossed behind his desk, slipping an arm around his son's shell. Donnie wanted to pull away. "Come with me. Let's take a walk." 

He led them out of the Lair into the tunnels outside their home. They could loop around easily and end up back at the Lair, and Splinter knew Donnie was going to resist talking if the others could be around to hear. Sometimes, you must play on other people's terms, he thought, listening to the quiet drip echo as they ambled through the sewer. He figured it was time to do a little damage control, although he normally pledged not to interfere with his sons and them making their mistakes. However, he didn't want to see Donatello make a potentially hazardous one to himself. 

"Now, you must understand, my son, you cannot know everything at once," Splinter said, avoiding an accusatory tone. "You have a brilliant mind, but you certainly don't tend to see the obvious." 

"What do you mean, master?" Donnie questioned. The "obvious" being under any other circumstances, his actions would definitely be seen as "creepy". The notion flew right under his radar as something to worry about, as their circumstances were anything but normal. 

"Of course, you are a young man, you want to watch out for the one you love," Splinter pointed out. Donnie cringed, even though he hasn't made much of an attempt to hide that fact. He was excited to explore something new, why should he have hidden thos feelings? He didn't shout them to the world. But it was well-known among their family that he'd beaten his brothers to the punch when it came to her, and no going for it was an unwritten but understood boundary. Still, this wasn't a conversation he was prepared for have tonight; his mind was still back at his lab.

"About everyone but Michelangelo has noticed you've been retreating to your lab more often recently." He chuckled. "And your antics around her are obvious, again. Loosen your grip a little. You are annoying your brothers vying for her attention." 

Donnie felt a rush of embarrassment come over him. Yes, he was showy—expressive, maybe too quick to whisk her away to demonstrate his new inventions, the stuff he'd discovered. Donnie knew he could hyperfixate on and obsess over things; she was on his mind more than not. As for annoying his brother, he wasn't the strongest, but he was the smartest. He was much more eager with his staff and putting his siblings back in their lane when she was around. The electric component on his weapon came in handy for quick corrections, and goofing around. 

Through all of that, he remembered having a moment of clarity when she was inspecting his computer setup one night and the camera almost flickered to hers, to which he scrambled to shut it off. Conveniently, he brushed that aside. 

Donnie lifted his goggles, rubbing his face sheepishly. "I guess you're right," he admitted. 

"The things you do for love," Splinter shook his head. "Be sure you do not push her away by accident. You are fortunate I had the mind to come talk to you about this before you made a mistake and a fool of yourself. Consider it a fair warning," he said as he looked over at his son, who waited quietly for him to continue, "to not overstep." 

"I understand, loud and clear." 

Splinter nodded in agreement, "Good. I trust you will take this advice well. You have a good heart and good intentions, Donatello, do not be clouded by your mind. Your brain is not your only quality."

"Thanks, master Splinter. I'll let up on it," Donnie relented with a small smile. He was still uncomfortable, feeling a bit dumb. He always was so caught up on making predictions, keeping everything running smoothly and safely that he didn't always consider how that worked for other people. Just because it made sense to him, didn't mean it made sense to them. Note that for later, Donatello, he reminded himself. He turned around to head back to the Lair. 

Splinter stopped to take in a little sunlight from the grate above his head, stopping Donnie in his tracks. "Oh, and Donatello," he called. 

"Yeah?" 

Splinter assumed parental status, and Donnie knew that scolding tone all too well. "Tell her about it, or turn that damned camera off." 

~wooOoOOOoooOooOooo partitionnnnnnn~

Side rant: I actually hate it when people portray Donnie (except for 2012 iterations) as shy and unconfident. He is literally the opposite in 2003 and Bayverse. Donatello is not "a little baby uwu" and I'm tired of people making him look so meek 😭

[elysiansparadise]

Hello! 👋 I was wondering if there are any synastry placements that could make someone believe their partner is really smart or look up to them because of their intelligence. Thank you!!!

Hello love! I really like your question, thank you so much for suggesting it. 💖

Intellectual Admiration in synastry 

🤎Sun conjunct the MC/Sun trine MC/Sun falling in the other’s 10th house. It makes you see your partner as a very capable, intelligent and ambitious person. You can admire the other person for their tenacity, professionalism and because you see their personality as something appealing or something you can aspire to be. MC/10th house person feels mesmerized by the other person's essence, their creativity and their way of behaving.

🤎Mercury conjunct the MC/Mercury trine MC/Mercury falling in the other’s 10th house. This meaning is a little more direct, since Mercury shows intellect, skills and abilities. This overlay or aspect can cause you to see in your partner someone with great mental capacity, someone who is mentally agile, and you may even admire a particular skill he or she has. You see in the other person someone very capable, and not only in the areas they master, but in any other area due to their great learning capacity.

🤎Jupiter falling in your partner’s 10th house. Similar to the previous one, let's remember that Jupiter represents complex knowledge, going beyond the details, so in this case you admire the other person's ability to see the big picture, how they understand things that seem simple at first glance, and the depth of your mind and heart. You see in them a very cultured person, open-minded and very capable in certain specific areas.

🤎Saturn falling in your partner’s 10th house/conjunct or trine MC. House person find it admirable how the other's mind operates, how they take many things into consideration, their ability to reason, their expertise and how they seem to have a plan for everything. Various types of admiration come in here, from the professional, the personal and the intellectual. You may even be inspired to put your life in greater order with the other person's presence.

🤎Uranus falling in your partner’s 10th house. Something interesting happens here, and it is that they admire both the unique, witty and fascinating personality of Uranus person, and that quality of genius that they perceive when working with them/knowing them well. They can put their intellectual abilities and capabilities, as well as their creativity and inventive spirit, on a high pedestal.

🤎Mercury falling in your partner’s 5th house. House person admires and finds the other person's cunning and skills very attractive. They see this person as a mixture of mischief and great intellectual abilities, a combination that they consider lethal, interesting and somewhat hot. They like to listen to this person talk about what they like or are passionate about and it is very easy for them to pay immediate attention when they start a conversation.

🤎Mercury aspecting the other’s Sun [especially conjunction or trine]. Besides the fact that communication flows in an ideal, dynamic and constant way, Sun person will feel very interested in talking with Mercury person due to the affinity of ideas, while Mercury person will directly see Sun person as someone very sharp and clever. 

🤎Mercury aspecting the other’s Jupiter. Both may feel fascinated by the amount of hours they can spend without getting bored, they see in the other someone with an interesting mind and, in general, as very smart and witty. They love being with each other, as it helps them notice details that may go unnoticed [Mercury person] or see things from a new perspective [Jupiter person]. They love how each other's minds work and have a lot of intellectual affinity.

🤎Jupiter aspecting the other’s Sun [especially conjunction, opposition, trine or sextile]. Jupiter person will see in Sun person someone from whom they can learn many things, someone with whom they feel very comfortable and is very likely to leave very positive lessons in their life. For its part, Sun person will see in Jupiter person a reliable, wise and very cheerful or positive person. They will contribute a lot to each other's lives, they will support each other and there will be respect, approval and acceptance for what the other is and knows.

🤎Jupiter harmoniously aspecting the other’s Saturn. They both have experience and maturity that they love to share with each other, because they feel that they understand each other on a deep level. Beyond admiring the other's ability to listen and immediately understand what they want to say, they feel admiration for the way the other behaves, sees life and their ideas.

🤎Saturn making harmonious placements with the other’s Sun. Sun person will admire Saturn person's stable, hard-working and clever personality, and will feel more grounded by their presence. Saturn person sees in the other person someone with a lot of potential, with many capabilities and can admire certain traits of their character and mind.

🤎Saturn making harmonious placements with the other’s Uranus. Even if they initially seem very different, on an intellectual level they connect in interesting ways. Saturn person will see in them someone with great intelligence, someone very unique in their way of thinking and seeing things, and can be greatly inspired by this. Uranus person will see in Saturn someone admirable, respectable and someone in whom he will place a very high esteem. Despite their differences, they understand each other and find in each other someone who is intriguing to say the least.

🤎Pallas conjunct or trine Sun. I remember mentioning it in some synastry observations, and these aspects usually indicate that the Pallas person sees the Sun person as someone admirable, rational and in general can have a very positive opinion about them. Sun person is very the mix of creativity and intelligence in the eyes of the Pallas person. You may think that the person is very prudent and mentally skilled.