#Albeit Pricey

[dragonanon]

So my mom and I had ourselves a girls weekend together in Seattle, and we both had an absolute blast. 🤩 I got these macarons from a little French bakery down in Pike Place that I legit haven’t been to since 4 years old. They’re still just as good as I remember, and absolutely worth every penny. 🥰❤️

[burlesque-grin]

{Seeing as i don't have any of the drama CDs, but still wanted to give everyone an IC example of Ches' voice after all these years of having this blog around-- Decided that posting his character song was the next best thing lol, seeing as i've had the file for ages now anyways--}

[gynandromorph]

another nofna style emulation strip... i haven't drawn anything about Legend's HIOT treatment, even though it is kind of important, mostly because... no fight scenes, lots of tiny letters and twisting roots, and its contingency on other events happening first (like it'd be weird to draw her going to HIOT before even drawing the strip with the voice in it). at the same time, most of the information here? totally just restated information already known by the audience--

Resolve looks small compared to JS, but she's actually quite large... they're just very different heights.

(technically you could also call Remitting Dr. Remitting because she is also qualified to treat patients......) The Rationale member is an african savanna hare.

i want to say that Resolve's an interesting character, in that i don't really have strong opinions about her, which usually means They're Complicated, but i'm kind of meh about her. she's just very Normal. eventually i will write a follow-up strip with her and Remitting post-JS-treatment where her relationship to her patients and work is elaborated upon a little. she is almost 46 years old and she has outlived generations of patients -- for short-lived rodents, probably generations in the double digits. she gets to see from admission to death the results of her work, or lack thereof. i wouldn't say that she has a sense of superiority, as i think she tries to cultivate an open-mindedness, but she has so much experience, she can be quick to solidify her thoughts on matters, and she is not easily swayed by dissenting opinions from younger individuals when she knows her opinion will outlive theirs by her mere act of Continuing to Exist.

as demonstrated in Glyptography, it seems that some HIPAA-alike doesn't exist in this society, and HIOT members are free to comment on any patients in their care. still, with a more legally binding case of committal, i decided that there would be one "lead" individual who had legal guardianship over a patient, and, consequently, the final word on their treatment. Parabola described HIOT in a variety of ways, along with its functions, which included "cataloging anomalies" and "behavior oversight." he also noted that cataloging or investigating behaviors was more of an "early" stage of HIOT, whereas modern HIOT ascribes meaning to the findings and formulates legal conclusions (along with, presumably, still monitoring and controlling anomalous behavior). i treated the admission of patients as fairly common, then, perhaps one of HIOT's main purposes at this point, where members would contend with the fact that there was just an endless stream of new people to treat -- their work didn't seem to change anything about the root of the problems they're tending to.

JS failed her metanoia proposal due to incompletion. what she had while sparring with Machinations, was mostly all she still had by the time she was expected to turn in a thesis, albeit she could spell entire words now. her proctor was willing to pass her with a low grade because it WAS undeniable, even if devoid of apparent purpose.

Remitting and Resolve are, like Misgivings, wearing Guthriea capensis, hidden flower, as corsages. Resolve is wearing a female flower, and Remitting is wearing a male flower. it grows hidden under its own leaves, and its nectar is very bitter, driving most pollinators away. i could have used the same flower that smoothie wore, but i Did Not Feel Like It. the Rationale hare is wearing pale everlasting flowers (Helichrysum pallidum). i figured they would all wear the same corsages? but i don't think we've seen a Rationale member clothed... Maybe the wolf official from Syconium, but that's ambiguous. I had Legend wear a rather formal and pricey mantle, because this is a very humiliating situation for her, and I feel she'd dress up to the 9s to compensate for this loss of face. her corsage is large mountain ink flowers (Cycnium racemosum), a semi-parasitic plant which primarily uses sedges and long grasses as hosts. these flowers turn dark like ink when damaged -- hence their name. they can grow very large, up to multiple feet tall, and she has the long stem threaded through the front of her mantle. her paws are covered in abrasions, not dirt, and her claws have been worn down almost to the quicks due to excessive digging and scratching at surfaces like tree bark.

anyway i think that's all i have to say about this one it's not my most interesting strip. it facilitates later strips like legend asking Resolve about false memories or accessing HIOT documents to pass time and developing her thesis with this new knowledge.

[paimonial-rage]

lol yeah ok - how about 12 and 13 instead? - last anon

[Character Analysis Ask Meme]

What is Neuvillette’s love language?

As that he does not have a way with human relationships, Neuvillette shows his feelings best through acts of service and gift-giving. After all, words are difficult and easy to construe. Quality time often leaves him at a loss for the very words he has a difficult time with. And physical touch? That’s simply too intimate for him. So what better way to show how he feels through something concrete? Surely if he gives of his time and resources for the people he cares about, they will understand how high of a regard he holds them. At least, he hopes. 

What is Neuvillette like in a relationship?

As unfamiliar with human emotions as he is, you notice Neuvillette’s feelings for you long before he does. How can you not? You see it clearly—the softness in his eyes whenever they fall upon you, the fondness in his smile, the requests for you to stay if not just a moment longer. You are taken by surprise the day he notices. He approaches you with a troubled, albeit bashful expression. He says that it was brought to his attention that he has feelings for you. Adorable as he is, what else can you do but accept them?

Much to your expectation, there is a hesitance in his step after he begins to court you. He has never been in a relationship before. He doesn’t want to mess it up. So how close is he allowed to walk next to you? Is it proper to offer you his arm? Will you refuse him if he asks you to accompany him to a show? But your presence at his side leaves him light-headed. How many times this has lead to social gaffes and things of the sort? But when you laugh, how can he not chuckle to himself in turn?

With Neuvillette, you will find no bombastic displays of affection. There will not be poetic words of love and adoration. After all, Neuvillette is a simple man and will show his love through simple, yet earnest ways. He will want to spend time with you. He will want to do his best to communicate and be honest with you. He will want to make you happy in any way you see fit. He will do his best for you.

Zhongli's below the cut!

What is Zhongli’s love language?

Anyone close to the Geo Archon knows his penchant for gift-giving. Really, it often catches many by surprise the sheer thoughtfulness and rarity of the gifts he gives. Not only are they often pricey, but also chosen with the receiver specifically in mind. It’s not rare to see people moved to tears upon receiving them, touched by the amount of care he puts into each one. As with gifts, Zhongli is also liberal with the words of affirmation he gives others. He does not hesitate to state a person’s strengths, nor how high of a regard he holds them. With him, there is no room for doubt. 

What is Zhongli like in a relationship?

You don’t exactly know when you both became an item. As wordy as Zhongli is, he never bothered to tell you his feelings plainly. He even rejected you at first, stating he didn’t see you in that way. But then he said he’d try, didn’t he? And from that point, things began to change. How he’d invite you to Miss Yun’s performances, or offered his arm for you to take while he’d walk you home. How he’d tell you the most outrageous stories with a straight face, then laugh with an amused glint in his eye when you took him seriously. Somewhere along the way, the wall he kept began to fall.

Still, it is hard to tell his feelings as he never becomes the most physical with his affections. He does not hug you, nor does he hold your hand when you walk at his side. Sparing the moments when you’re the most endearing, he does not often kiss you of his own accord. Still, there is a level of familiarity and intimacy that he displays with no one else. You’re the only person he’ll let by his side on the days he wants most to be left alone. You’re the one whose opinions matter the most. You’re the only one he’ll tease as mercilessly as he does. You’re special.

With Zhongli, you realize that your relationship with him is not primarily one of romance, but of companionship. He does not simply view you as a friend. No, you’re much more than that. Out of all the things that come and go in his life, you are and will always be the only constant. You are everything to him. Even if you may part ways for a time, the place by his side will always remain yours. A relationship with you is a contract, one that he will always uphold. 

[emberglowfox]

you should infodump about your ocs

i'm going to talk abt a bit of the worldbuilding in steelheart redux bc i am a nerd. you'll get a pinch of arthur at the end though

holograms are pretty common tech in the SHR-verse, and at the time of the story, most are polychromatic (aka full-color, though like real-life televisions Just How Many Colors depends on model and price and whatnot) but that wasn't always the case! when holographic technology was first really figured out, holographic displays were only capable of projecting in one color, using opacity to differentiate value. early holographic phones (H-phones, or whatever lingo i come up with later to describe them) accepted this limitation in exchange for being able to just. project a big honking screen (though said big honking screen was not physically interactable in any way.) they looked kind of like this:

and since suddenly people could just whip out their phones and project a wall-sized display, a section of the entertainment industry scrambled to capitalize on this by making films and graphics For these phones (and the legion of projectors that also emerged) that were essentially black and white films, as stipulated by the holograms' display limitations. these movies were called monofilms (or just monos), and shortly separated into two categories: standard monofilms, produced for dark environments, and inverse monofilms, produced for bright environments.

(when discussing the categories of monos in relation to each other, the terms 'additive' and 'subtractive' are often substituted.)

this led to a brief, albeit fiery race for various cinematographers to become the "master" of monofilmography, which involved different lighting setups and considerations than normal filmography. it was also popular among indie filmographers, as shooting in black and white was far less expensive than shilling out for top-of-the-line, industry-standard but Fucking Pricey full-color cameras.

eventually, polychromatic holographic displays were invented and standardized, and the short golden age of monofilms passed. still, despite the major film studios that had dabbled in monofilmography returning to the standard, monos remain a staple of indie film production and enjoy a niche but dedicated fanbase.

such as arthur steele, who inherited a love and appreciation for them from his late father.

[theunstuffedpepper]

It’s me, back again, trying to get back on the daily gratitude train. 😅

Grateful for..

A short day in the office today!

A delicious (albeit way too pricey) lunch - salad, avocado, basmati rice with curry, grilled chicken, roasted broccoli, potato 🤤

Having a decent degree of financial freedom/flexibility

Water balloon & outdoor time with my best boys

[meimostar]

Hiya there! Hopefully tumblr doesn't eat this ask😭

So technically; Lovesick

Y/N Cookie reunites with their long-distanced childhood friend, hangs out with them more, and then it makes the other cookies they've known jealous of the amount of attention received

cookies of your choice btw :3

Your request has been passed through the fog.

Cookie writing to day is 'Knight Cookie'

Far ago, you met a cookie at your age in your humble village before anything could happen. He was courageous and kind to other even if it's slightly selfless in its own right, he have good intentions as a child would have but you couldn't help the thought theres more with how close you two gotten in a short amount of time with the cookie. Whenever you're down, he would be the first to contact you and cheer you from the feeling of sadness, when theres something off. He would be the one who notice it immediately. It felt like two children being so close and the concept of 'love' was something foreign to you and them.

It was a sweet little childhood and a distant memory you would recall everytime a bad day would occur, wishing that cookie came back and continue living beside you. Its wishfull thinking, but you couldn't help but get reminded of the cookie everytime. He was there when you're down at you're lowest, when the dragon took both of your homes in the sea of fire and seizes to exiet from earth realm. You lost some friends, some family but he also lost them. You've found comfort in the cookie and sympahtize, you wished you could turn back time for a moment and met them again.

" i'm.. going to be a knight, to Holyberry castle." Those words of departure, it was a shocking revalation. " I'll defeat the red dragon, i promise." You don't care about the creature that destroyed you're home, you just hoped he is in good health. " please.. don't cry, i'll come back. I promise." A promise yet he didn't came, you wait everyday at the village gates if he came back. Always everytime with a gift that you could hope he would come.

Waiting...

Waiting...

Waiting...

Its been how many years? He departed when you two were pre-teens. Young enough to be a disciple of the knights, you pray every night that wherever he goes that he is safe from any upcoming danger.. he should've been married now, with a wife or husband and a dog. You've talked to him if he plans to get married some day if their gotten older, he always response the same.

'I want to marry you.'

A cute one, the way he immediately says it with no hesitance and the way he brightened up at your chuckle. You wonder if he even remember it, you look at the photo beside your bed ontop of a drawer.

It's a photo of you and knight. Smiling, it was an old photo albeit abit burnt but it still usable. You wonder if he remembers you. You look at the poster you have on your hand, a poster of a parade for princess cookie happening on Holyberry kingdom. A march across the kingdom to show victory of a recent knight recruits.

You've been catching up with some news of the Holyberry kingdom for some time, it was pricey since the village you're living in isn't too well off but it does the job. Your planning to come to the parade, perhaps knight is in there too?.

You sighed with an unknown expression on your face, putting the poster aside as you fall asleep on your bed. Tomorrow would be a busy day for you.

.

.

.

Today, you woke up earlier than you usually do. Brushing your teeth, took a quick shower and looking your best. You glance at the poster ontop of your drawer as you remind yourself that it's for him. You want to see him after all these years of seperation, perhaps you still have a chance?.. its only a wishful possibility as you look at yourself in the mirror before taking off to the Holyberry kingdom.

As expected of the rich fruity kingdom filled with merchants and nobles trading their supply for something even more better. Ladies and gentleman chatting and bickering before the bell chimes on signalling that the parade about to start. You overheard some of the ladies talking about the knight and a princess being best friends or even more than friends. It tugs at your heart as you try to digest the implications of the words that they said.

You walk aimlessly at the crowd before another chime rolls around, signalling the parade is beginning. The large castle doors swung open slowly as carriages and knights lined, walking as well as marching bands with trumpets, drums and plenty of entertainment lined. You can hear the music, confetti falling and the excitement of people shouting with joy.

One perticular carriage caught your eye, it embedded a sigil, specifically. The Royal Sigil, you kept your eye on it as you squish yourself through the crowd to the front as you saw him. Knight with the princess as tears swell up in your eyes, smiling as you finally saw how grown he has been. He seemed more mature now, not cute like the past childhood you have.

You waved at him, hoping he would see as you two caught eye contact. The world felt slow down as the only thing you could focus on is knight.

"... [Name]?"

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

Thank you for reading, there will be a part 2 for knights P.O.V and the ending.

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 8 A Deadly Tour

I found a new website where I can make cursed murdle gifs.

So uh duke of vermillion crunch

I've turned him into a meme because he's so useless he had NO lines in the first series-

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

VIOLET: Oh, come on. Are we really gonna let that geezer stop us from having a good time?  LOGICO: You know… the invitation really didn’t sound like you were inviting me over for a ‘good time’.  VIOLET: Let’s take a tour of the grounds!

And so, Logico reluctantly follows Violet through the gorgeous courtyard. Only problem, she’s ALSO giving a tour to Baron Maroon and Signor Emerald.

VIOLET: Welcome, to the VIOLET ISLES! 

Logi has a looming sense of dread of course, but he can’t help but admire the beautiful complex. The buildings are gigantic and flawless, and the courtyard is made of a bedazzling maze trimmed to perfection. 

MAROON: [snort] My palace is better… LOGICO: Oh, shut the FUCK UP! MAROON: [growl…]

Emerald is inspecting every corner carefully, looking for anything he can pickpocket. Violet smacks him.

VIOLET: By the way Logico, while you’re here… do you think you could figure out why the OG tour guide is dead?

She points to a body (A sentence present in nearly every episode). 

LOGICO: …such… a fun vacation already

The first thing that catches Logico’s attention is the giant stone statue of Lord Violet. He’s able to get a better look at his figure now - a gazelle creature, with a long flowing mane… and a disturbing human-like mask. 

LOGICO: So this… is your father? VIOLET: Yep! 

Logico is quite confused at how they could possibly be related - Lord Violet doesn’t even resemble a person, more so some unearthly beast. But he can’t say that out loud. 

Baron Maroon quickly gets in the way.

MAROON: Want to go out with me.

He’s well over 70, and Violet is in her 20s.

VIOLET: That’s gonna be a hard pass thanks!

There’s a torn-up bag of acorns with a squirming beast inside. Kind of a weird weapon choice, but Logico doesn’t want to go near it even for clues. Depressed from being unable to steal some pricey trinkets, Emerald is drowning his sorrows in wine on a bench.

LOGICO: Let me guess - you got that from Father Mango! EMERALD: Not… every bottle of wine is from Father Mango. There is other wine.

Logico encounters something familiar on the cliffs. ‘The Scimitar of Death’- it’s a marot card (albeit not a very normal one)! Suddenly, he remembers Irratino!

LOGICO: Oh no.

Irratino feels this, and quickly tries to send Logico a telegram. But nothing is reaching. He then feels a new kind of pain - Logico already forgot about him??

The murderer was Maroon, apparently because he was that mad that Logico told him to shut up. Violet shoos him off.

VIOLET: When the civil war ended, the so-called Free Drakonia never made a claim to this island, and so it became an extrajudicial territory. Unlike those barbarous Reds, we do not execute our prisoners - we simply force them to leave! LOGICO: How polite, I suppose. Now, I have some questions…

He can’t wait to lore-dive into this incredible settlement.

The end!

I'm so excited for minimurdle now that i know it has the same suspects.

BABY EMINENCE.

The Roblox Murdle RP server now has over 40 characters, and also

^ I don't like this at all!

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[baurbiediv]

beetlejuice

bolded italics = song lyrics

italics = flashbacks

bittersweet, beetlejuice

bitter me, how sweet of you to

ask if i’d be your muse

and go and paint me blue

labels were something you’d never been interested in while on relationships.

you thought they were pointless, if you were truly in love with someone, why slap a label on them?

when jack had first had his sights on you, it wasn’t a physical interaction, more so he just so ‘magically’ was scrolling through instagram and your account just so happened to appear on his explore page.

from then on you’d exchange messages and even escalated to exchanging each others number. any normal person would’ve thought that this was some sick joke at first, but something inside of you told yourself to give him a chance.

the more you talked to jack, the more head over heels you became. between the ‘good morning’ texts and late night facetime calls, you couldn’t have possibly asked for anything more from a guy, especially someone who was frequently seen in the limelight from time to time.

of course, he wanted to keep you on the low as he didn’t want anyone anyone to invade your personal privacy or your own personal life.

you gladly respected him for that, he treated you like you deserved to be treated.

the first time he came to visit, he voluntarily flew to your hometown of atlanta and stayed with you in your apartment for two weeks, and not to over exaggerate, you considered those two weeks to be the best of your life.

it was bittersweet when he had to go back to louisville, but nonetheless you enjoyed his company while he was there.

from the small walks in the nearby parks to the dinner nights to the nights you both stayed in and ordered take out and had a small game night with just the two of you, you felt as though your life was going perfect.

nobody had ever made you feel the way that jack has, you wonder from time to time if someone had put some kind of love spell on you that you were never aware of.

neither of you or jack had paid any attention to the tv while it played a some corny rom com as it has been long forgotten while the two of you had been lost in conversation.

“do you think your life would be any different if you found someone other than me?” you asked jack while you twirled his hoodie string around your finger.

he responded without any hesitation, “i do think that quite literally everything would be different. i mean my attitude would be different, don’t get me wrong i ain’t no grouch or anything but you bring the best out of me y/n, and i mean that.”

you rolled your eyes and smiled.

“don’t get all mushy on me mr. harlow.” jack chuckled at the statement, “i’m serious though y/n, any time i see your face it just makes my day 10x better. i mean it when i say this, i love you.”

suddenly the world came to a halt and you felt stuck. hearing those words fall from his lips made your heart skip a beat. “i love you too, jack.” you smiled as jack kissed your forehead.

now here you are present day, still just as in love with jack as you were when you shared that endearing moment on the couch with jack.

you could’ve sworn in that exact moment that you would’ve married him in that moment. you were so in love with him, and he was so in love with you.

there were times where you thought that living without jack had to be the most difficult thing of your relationship.

although he had priorities, you were his priority as well.

of course you wanted to go with jack anywhere he went but it was pricey, albeit he promised to take care of you himself but you didn’t want him spending all that kind of money on you, which you reassured him was okay.

the daily facetime calls weren’t cutting it anymore and you started missing him more and more. you’d been laying around in your apartment all day when you got the urge to call jack, but much to your avail, he never picked up. so you called him a few more times, but he still never picked up, and so ultimately you left him a few messages just to make sure he was alright.

to: jack 🫶🏽💘

hi baby

just checking in, i love you so much 💘💘

call me when you can

the next few days flew by, and still nothing from jack.

this was starting to send you into a frenzy, not hearing anything from him was starting to make you worth and even make you feel sick.

you felt a little crazy for the way you’d been feeling.

to try and take your mind off of things, you took to instagram to see what new recipes you could find and what new styling choices you could make.

but when you swiped over to your homepage, you saw jack posted up with some girl on his lap with his arms around her along with the caption, “Glad to be in the city with her. ♥️”

but the last time i seen your face, was in atlanta

and i knew that she had took my place, because you vanished

we grew distant like you left me on an isolated planet

i’d rather die than be abandoned by you

'cause you know I didn't love you for the money

only your sugar and my honey 'cause it was so sweet

admit you never even loved me

your head was spinning and your chest started feeling heavy. the only thing that you were even remotely able to do was lay down and cry. why would he do this to you? there would only be a short amount of time before people found out the truth about jack.

and you.

taglist:

@harlowsbby

[leggerefiore]

s/o is happily dating what they think is their normal goofy boyfriend (seperate) but surprise surprise, they're actually ceos of a huge corporation, and make more money in a second that s/o could make in a month. How would they react to their partner who is deeply intimidated by their status and wealth?

cw: CEO AU,

pairing: Ingo/Reader, Emmet/Reader

▲Ingo▼

● Ingo certainly can come across as a normal everyday man despite his urge to dress in seasonally inappropriate clothing for his aesthetics. You did not get the feeling that he was any different from the other customers you got often. In fact, you found yourself quite entranced with conversations with him as he discussed a variety of topics ranging from competitive battling to different engine types in trains. You didn't consider him to be anyone out of the ordinary.

● In fact, you had already started your relationship with him when you even learnt of just what his job was. After a date, you both decided to head to his place over yours, and you found yourself stunned at where he led you. At first, you thought it was a joke, seeing the elite hi-rise apartment building, but Ingo quickly swiped a key card and to open the door to an upper level apartment.

● Your mind was blown by the interior of the room, too. Expensive furniture and decorations laid inside, with a well-made and large model train set covering a decent portion of the living room. Ingo gazed at you carefully as you held your strange expression. It was then that something clicked in his head. “… You do know where I work, don't you?” He asked, and you shook your head.

● It was honestly terrifying to learn that Ingo worked at such a large corporation as a CEO. His wealth was something more than you could comprehend, only knowing that he definitely made more in an hour than you likely did in a week. Shattered was the image of a normal, albeit train-obsessed, man, and in its place stood an impossibly wealthy man. Ingo sighed at your obvious distress.

● “… I… I'm sorry,” he started with a recognisable politeness that he always tried to hold, “I was not trying to hide such information from you… Ah, perhaps this will make me sound even worse, but I'm quite used to people already knowing who I am and my job…” Ingo's eyes averted your gaze as he turned to look at the floor with pure shame exuding from him. You could still see the sweet guy who had caught your attention, but you still felt hesitant to even reach out to him.

● This led to Ingo working endlessly hard to reassure you that he didn't allow his status and wealth to affect who he was (too much). He understands your worries, always trying to be deeply understanding towards you. Part of him did want to shower you in gifts and whatever else you could ask for, but he resisted out of respect for you. Truly, he works desperately to make sure you don't feel as if he is some cruel, wealthy baron. Ingo wants you to see him as a person.

● In the end, it's truly on you whether or not you can accept him. Ingo will do countless things to help you change how you came to view him after learning about his job, and will respect your decision to leave if you can't feel happy with him. If you do come around to it, however, he begs you to let him spoil you just a little. He wants to express his love in many, many forms.

▽Emmet△

○ Emmet barely acts like a CEO when he's off the clock, so it was little wonder how you came to view him as just another person. He eagerly chatted about sweets, pokemon battling, Joltik breeding, and trains. You felt like he was just another person living in Nimbasa, just as you were. His excitable nature made you fall for him quickly. Emmet was merely a playful, fun guy to be around. Sure, he took you to some more pricey places for dates, but it wasn't something that out of the ordinary when he also took you out to random dessert stands, too.

○ That was why it came as a surprise when he brought you to one of the most expensive apartment buildings in the city after a date and wanted to go over to his place. Emmet giggled as he swiped his key card on a door on one of the upper floors of the building. You were nearly in shock from it all.

○ The inside was decorated with obviously expensive furnishings and decor. None of it necessarily screamed 'Emmet,' so you could only presume an interior decorated had chosen it. Well, excluding a large and detailed model train set that chugged along endlessly in the living room. Your obvious shock made Emmet tense up noticeably, like he had just realised something, too. “Ah… Darling, I forgot to tell you about my job,” a nervous giggle came from him as he stared directly at the floor.

○ Learning that Emmet worked as high-ranking executive at a large corporation came as a shock. It made no sense when you considered his hobbies and behaviours. Nothing screamed cut-throat businessman. Moments of a certain harshness and intimidation from him entered your brain as you gazed at him. It was hard to view him as the same fun-loving guy.

○ “... I liked being with you,” his voice was soft, like a scared child's own might sound, “I hate being my work self around friends and lovers… I am sorry for not telling you.” His normally proud and strong body language deflated into something pathetic and desperate. Even so, you felt betrayed by him hiding that from you, and how terrifying the idea of him making more in a day than you did in a month. You took a step back away from him.

○ Emmet desperately reaches out to you and babbles out endless apologies, begging you to stay with him. The younger twin will do anything to prove himself to you. He loves being with you and wants to show you that he isn't like whatever presumptions rushed into your head after finding out. Emmet probably seems quite sad with how desperate he is, he knows, but you are someone he feels at ease with. Poor guy goes between buying you gifts and realising that you would probably hate that so many times.

○ Ultimately, it's on you whether or not you will be able to get past your obvious aversion to Emmet's wealth and status. He may put up a fight until you explicitly tell him that you want to end things. In which case, he will respect your decision and leave you be. If you wish to try, however, he clings to you and thanks, you so many times. Emmet truly just wants another person in his life that sees him for who he is and not his title or wealth, he knows verrry well that you do.

[vibratingskull]

The heart's dilemma

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

Tags : angst, bit of alcohol, gift

FemaleReader x Thrawn

You go back to the Chimaera for a soiree with Thrawn to study the book you gifted him, but is everything going as planned ?

We’re FINALLY done with the Memories chapters and got back to present times, this one takes place some month after The Present.

You’re applying your favorite lipstick with caution, you have to be presentable after all. Thrawn may be an old friend with whom you recently reconciled, but he’s still your superior and a proper behavior and apparel is expected. This meant dignified makeup and outfit. You thank the Maker you don’t need makeup during work days on the Relentless, Admiral Konstantine considering it a selfish and useless display of individuality when the Navy needs obedience and unity. You don’t disagree with him, albeit you’re less vehement than him. But tonight you’re invited over at a party in Thrawn’s quarters on the Chimaera, an informal party so less suffocating than those Imperial gatherings but you’re still nervous nonetheless. You want to appear at your best and most confident so you did opt for a bit of makeup. 

You pick up your favorite perfume and apply it lightly on your neck and behind your ears, after a good shower those fragrances of fruits and honey will give you a fresh scent. You comb your hair and arrange it in a proper hairstyle. You open your jewelry box and rummage through it. Most of them have been offered by Arzel and they’re not especially… neutral. You pout and search for some simple pearls or earrings. You only find a platinum ring with Arzel’s initials, it’s the least tacky of all your jewels. You pass it on and walk to your grand mirror to inspect yourself one last time. You chose a claret-red dress that hugged your form and modestly cuts at your knees, the collar is evasive with off-shoulder sleeves that spread through your whole arms to a ring of fabric on your middle fingers that hold the sleeves in place without folds. Spiced up by some heels, the overall look is a bit bold but he will surely cut you some slack, you hope he’s not a man to worry too much about that behind closed doors.

You're spinning on yourself to check your attire at every angle when your comlink rings. It’s Arzel, he’s wondering what you’re up to this evening. You consider his message, wondering how to respond… Should you be honest and tell him you go see Thrawn? He said he has a newfound respect for him but you feel you’re still walking on eggshells with this subject. You opt for a reasonable “I’m going out with friends.” and grab your purse and jacket.

The evening is still warm enough and the sun is only starting to set, illuminating Coruscant in pink and tangerine shades, you don’t resist and take a picture with your imager. You secretly hope Thrawn will let you snap a pic of the two of you, in the good old days’ name, a symbol of your friendship freshly renewed. You just have the time to pass the doors, you notice a limo parked in front of your building. You slowly approach unsure. The driver straightens as you walk closer.

“Lieutenant commander (y/n) (y/l/n)?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“I have been tasked to drive you to the Grand Admiral Thrawn.” He politely opens the car door “Please, take your seat.”

You sit down in the luxurious car, smelling the odor of new leather. The limo is spacious, with a mini bar and tinted windows, inside it already resonates with an album of one of your favorite bands. 

“The Grand Admiral, especially requested for your favorite drinks and snacks to be at your disposal.” He explains, taking place behind the wheel.

“That is very thoughtful of him.” You thank him.

You’re a bit intimidated, usually when you’re in those types of cars Arzel is with you, so you don’t mind what’s around you too much. But today you’re alone in this incredibly pricey car and you feel a bit out of place. Your dress and perfume suddenly seem really cheap. You squirm on your seat, trying to take as little place as possible, like you were bothering someone. 

You shake your head. 

No. 

You’re simply coming to see an old friend, he can display his new fortune as much as he wants, you’re beyond that. You’re coming to see him, not his wealth. You make the conscious effort to spread yourself in the car to feign confidence, like you owned the place.

“We will be there in one standard hour.” He indicates as he takes off the limo.

“Perfect.”

The flight is uneventful, your driver took the priority lanes, passing before many civilian cars. Your nervousness subsided a bit but you play it safe and favor fruit juices over any alcoholic beverages, you slowly rock yourself to your favorite music and speak with him from time to time.

“You’re no ordinary driver, you're a new officier, am I right?”

“Indeed I am, ma’am. How did you know?” He demands without letting his gaze go out the road.

“Because I’m being asked the same thing from time to time.” You laugh.

Such is the weight of lower officers, you think looking out through the window. To do the bidding of admirals. You hope he doesn’t take it too badly to have to drive an officer barely higher than him, but nothing in his demeanor indicates any anger of jealousy.

“If I can, ma’am. What are your ties to the Grand Admiral?” He asks with a conversational tone.

“Oh, we are old friends.” You smile. “We met each other at the Imperial Academy.”

“You must be really good friends. He especially asked for you to be safely transported by one of his subordinates.”

“Well, I hope I am.” Your heart flutters. “You've been under his orders for a long time?”

“From the beginning ma’am.”

“Is he a good superior? I never worked under his supervision.”

“He is very good, ma'am. The empire should have more admirals as understanding and competent than him.”

“You can cut the “ma’am”, I’m sure we are almost the same rank.” You gently propose.

“I can’t ma’am. The Grand Admiral specifically asked I treat you like a superior.” he answers straight off.

You pout. Odd but not that unexpected.

“Well, I’m practically here as a civilian tonight.” You insist.

“No can do.” He bluntly responds.

You drop the subject, slouching back in your seat, observing the dying rays of the sun. It’s splendid. You recognize the dockyards and the limo took off higher, in the direction of the Chimaera. The sudden acceleration pushes you into your seat. You slowly enter the ISD’s hangar and park next to a civilian transport?

“What is that?”

“A ship the Grand Admiral got back from some pirates.” 

You shake your head with a smirk, surely he uses it for when he goes undercover with some stupid character, Eli talked to you about this Horatio Figg thing. It makes you chuckles simply thinking about it. Your driver kindly opens your door and guides you to Thrawn’s quarters. Some people turn towards you as you pass by and a horrifying thought crosses your mind, what if they think I am some prostitute? You suddenly slow down, unsure of your attire now. Your driver notices and stops, looking at you with questions in his eyes.

“Is everything okay, ma’am? You don’t feel well?”

“Is my outfit… appropriate?” You ask, a little tremor in the voice.

He details you from head to toes.

“Your outfit is great ma’am. I don’t see any problem with it.”

You silently praise yourself for not choosing stilettos or shaded stockings, the verdict could have been quite different. You try to pay more attention to the faces of those who stop in your way, but they are just gaze, no whistle, no offensive comments or inappropriate hand gestures. You even see some impressed faces. You feel better even if your heart's still pounding a little. Your heels clac all the way through the Chimaera with the boots of your escort. 

“Could you send my greetings to Commodore Faro?” You demand.

“Of course, ma’am.”

You sigh interiorly, it would have been some months before you would have to add Commander Vanto too to not appear suspect. But he’s not here anymore, Thrawn sent him away somewhere in the vast universe. You bite your lips, you missed him. Despite what happened, you wish you had the occasion to say goodbye. But it’s too late now, and you’re filled with regrets for not having talked to him. To just say that you saw what happened and that you forgave him. You would have hugged him and playfully disheveled his hair to spite him, then you would have laughed together at a bar for the whole night. 

You finally arrive before Thrawn’s door, sorting you out of your thoughts.

“I must leave you here. Good evening, Ma’am.” Your escort says and walks away.

You knock on the door. Some second pass before it slides open. You hesitantly pass the head through, observing the room. It’s more of a suite than a room, the lights are soft and dimmed and smooth jazz is played on a low level. You enter and the door shuts down behind you. Thrawn is nowhere in sight, so you just walk some steps aimlessly, an immense glass wall allows you to observe the immensity of space but your gaze is lured by some art pieces displayed in the room. Real ones and not projected holograms this time. You’re observing a canvas of an impressive size when a voice rises behind your back.

“Welcome, (Y/n).” 

You turn towards your friend, as usual his hands are joined behind his back and wears a haughty expression, but a thin smile greets you this time. Despite wearing is white uniform he dropped the lieutenant commander. He comes to your side. You get a whiff of his cologne.

“I am glad you accepted to come.”

“I told you I was also interested in that book.”

“I stopped you in your analysis of art. Please, tell me what you see.”

You chuckle, everyone’s analyzing art for him and not just appreciate it.

“It is an interesting painting.”

“I am sure you can do better than that.” He encourages softly, looking at you

“Well.” Your gaze goes back to the canvas, a black paint ribbed with touch up of reds and reddish magenta, some drops of whites “It looks like a frozen scene only lighted by a red lightning through a window. I guess the whole principle is to be able to see what we want in those specks of colors.”

“And what do you see?” He asks gently.

“Hmm… I see…” Good question, what do you see? “Either two parting hands, or two joining hands.”

“Does your heart not tilt toward one of those two options?”

You look again, doing some soul searching.

“They are definitively joining.” You decided. “Reaching towards each other.”

He lightly nods, his smile stretching up a bit, apparently he appreciates your analysis.

“And you?” You inquire. “What do you see?”

“It depends.” His gaze goes back to the painting. “Most of the time I see victory and boldness. Other times I see a specific landscape. And sometimes I see two bodies embracing each other.”

“What dictates when you see it?”

“When I feel alone and long for a connection.” His gaze lost itself in the void, his smile dying.

So it does happen for him to feel alone. Surely sending Eli must have worsened this sensation. You graze his arm with the tip of your fingers.

“It may be bold of me, but I am here. You don’t have to feel alone all the time.” You smile gently “Plus you have Karyn at your side, she may be a bit obstinate and gruff sometimes but she has a good heart, she would understand.”

His smile comes back but shakes his head, he heads towards the long sofa and tea table.

“She does have a good heart, but I’m afraid she’s not the right person for this longing.” He leans forwards and takes an envelope on the table. “But surely you are.”

You fluster and feel a stroke to your ego.

“Well, I can always try. What kind of longing are we talking about?” you request merrily, joining him.

He looks at you with an enigmatic smile.

“You will discover it soon enough.” His stern expression comes back and he hands you the envelope “Here. Eli left this behind for you.”

Your smile disappears. You take the envelope after hesitation which only wears your name for mention. 

“You have an idea what this is?” you ask, a bit sad suddenly.

“He only told me that you should read it alone.”

You consider the envelope and put it in your purse, you’ll deal with it later then. Thrawn invites you to sit on the pricey sofa while he goes for some glasses. You bounce a little, which amuse you tremendously. 

“But tell me, your suite is richly decorated. Where does all that come from?”

“Most of it comes from auctions I won, others are presents I received.”

You grin.

“Does a Grand Admiral really have time for auctions?”

He comes back with filled glasses and a chuckle.

“I always have time for art.”

“That’s fair.”

You take your glass and clink it with him but he doesn’t sit down. He reaches for something, behind the sofa and takes out the Codex.

“Now, for what you came for.”

You spend the next hours debating with him about this book, analyzing the drawings and figures and testing every traductors possible. But you can’t really say you advance in any meaningful way. The discussion gets heated by moments but never degrades into an argument, you laugh and drink a lot, emptying several glasses as the evening leaves place to the night. 

“What’s this by the way?” you ask pointing your glass. Maybe you worry about it a bit late.

“It is barely alcoholised. I knew you would drink and wanted your mind clear.” He explains gently, caressing a page of the book.

“Good thinking.” It’s true you feel the stinging of alcohol but your mind is surprisingly clear, albeit a bit light. You finish another glass.

“I want you focused and without faulty consent for the night.” He closes the book.

“Well” you laugh “That’s an imaginative way of saying you don’t want to deal with me completely drunk, but I get it.” You already take another glass

He shakes his head.

“You obviously do not. But you will soon.” He puts the book on the table and takes a little black box. He dusts a speck of dust and puts it in your hand “Happy anniversary (y/n).”

Your gaze navigates between him and the box.

“Oh you remembered!” You exclaim “You shouldn’t have!” Lies, you’re overjoyed to receive a gift once again, it must be your greedy side. 

You open the little box without losing a moment. 

A ring. 

It mimics a wicker braid, but is made of two distinct metals, Orichalc and another one you can’t identify. You raise your eyes to Thrawn who looked at you opening your gift like a child would. You think you could see a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“It is Nyix.” He answers your silent question, taking the ring out of the box. “A precious metal coming from my worlds.”

He takes your right hand and goes to put it on but stops as he sees there is already a ring.

He observes it and his eye twitches imperceptibly as he reads the initials. He takes your left hand instead and slides it on your ring finger. You take the time to admire the jewelry. It is really splendid.

“I had it specifically made for your starday.”

You extend your hands, shocked.

“You had it made especially for me? But it must have cost you a fortune!”

“Less than what you probably paid for that book.” He counters. “I wanted something that came from both of our worlds.” He explains.

“To symbolize our friendship?” You feel the tears behind your eyes, you’re overflowed with joy, even if your heart is a bit contrite.

“Yes, our… friendship.” He repeats lowly.

“It’s gorgeous, Thrawn. Thank you.” You smile looking at him “I will cherish it all my life.”

He nods, sliding closer to you with his glass.

“To you.”

You clink it with yours once again.

“To you, too.” You chuckle

“To us…” He breathes

You take another sip of this tasty fizzy drink. It’s really good.

“Did I tell you you look ravishing, tonight?” He asks in a low voice.

You finish your sip with a click of your tongue, giggling at his weird humor but appreciating the compliment nonetheless.

“No you did not.”

His hand grazes your thigh through the fabric of your dress.

“It is a shame, because you truly are.” He puts his hand on your thigh, with a gentle smile.

You stop mid movement, surprised. You look at him a bit lost, but you can only see confidence in his gaze. He slowly leans towards you, imperceptibly.

“I am honored you took the time to dress you up for me.” He delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re completely frozen. “I do not know if you remember, but you wore the exact same colors at the Academic Gala. Already you wore them perfectly back then but your dress was not as… Alluring.” His finger brushes his way from your cheek to your jaw, sliding under your chin.

He takes the glass of your hand and holds it, kissing your knuckles where the ring is without breaking eye contact.

“(Y/n)...” He purrs

“Th-Thrawn…?” You’re petrified.

“I wanted this for so long…” He confesses, holding your chin and leaning slowly, eyes fixed on your lips.

“I… I…”

Wait.

Hold on.

Is it really happening?

After all these years?

You feel butterflies in your stomach and your heart pounds so furiously you’re sure he can hear it over the jazz music. Your cheeks are on fire and your mouth is terribly thirsty. You blink several times, verifying it is happening. 

But you’re not dreaming. You feel his hand sneaking its way up your thigh, picking up the fabric at the same time, his breath on your lips and his scent of cologne and musk fills your lungs. He brushes your lower lip with the tip of his finger, parting them slightly. His gorgeous face fills your field of vision as he comes closer and closer. He stops a painful centimeter away from a feverish kiss, your breath gets stuck in your throat, your stomach making knots.

As you close your eyes, a light reflects on Arzel’s ring.

You…

“Thrawn.”

Surprised, he moves back a bit with wondering eyes.

“I’m sorry, but… I’m engaged and… I’m loyal.”

Silent, he considers you with an indecipherable expression.

 “And that is honorable from you.”

He moves away. You’re left in shock, eyes lost in the void.

What just happened ?

A shudder comes and shakes you, feeling really cold abruptly.

You're trembling with all your might, taking fistfull of your dress, you feel tears rolling on your cheeks and a wave of shame comes rising in you.

What are you doing here?

“I think… I think I’ll go!”

You don’t let him time to respond or do anything, you take your jacket and flee. You run, bewildered with fog in the eyes. You arrive as well as one can to the hangar where your driver is speaking with some colleagues. He sees you arriving and looks perplexed.

“Drive me back home!” You order, already sitting down in the seat.

He doesn’t ask anything and sits behind the wheel. He took off and you left. But strangely, your stomach knots only worsen as you go away. Your driver looks at you through the rearview mirror.

“Did… Did he tried something?” He asks maladroitly.

“No..” You gulp, in tears. “No. It’s me…”

The rest of the trip is spent in silence, occasionally broken by your sobs.

You run to your room. You lean against the door and let you slide to the ground. You hold your knees, your stomach In knots and cry your heart out.

It’s you…

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton

[cuppon]

TES Food::Kwama Egg Quiche

The Elder Scrolls: The Official Cookbook

Kwama Egg Quiche | 3.5

"Originally only known in Vvardenfell, this recipe traveled with Dunmer fleeing Morrowind after the Red Mountain's eruption and has been well received throughout much of Tamriel, albeit with various regional tweaks to the ingredient list. The lightly seasoned filling and crisp crust can satisfy even the pickiest palate."

⭑⭑⭑☆☆ | Taste: 3.5/5

Texture is a little weird, as all quiches tend to be, where they are simultaneously thick, yet pillowy. This is also somewhat greasy due to the amount of cheese involved

⭑⭑☆☆☆ | Cooking Ease: 2.5/5

Medium prep: you have to make the dough beforehand, and grating 1.5 cups of cheese takes up some time as well

⭑⭑☆☆☆ | Cost to Make: 2.5/5

While cheddar and parmesan cheese aren't pricey cheeses, they are still more expensive compared to normal ingredients. Additionally, rye flour for the rye pie dough is a more specialty flour, and thus more expensive

Notes:

For those with a more salt-heavy palate, you might need to add more salt to this

[helplesslyinlovewithcharacters]

meet cute - tasm!peter parker x reader

summary - meet cute, noun: an amusing or charming first encounter between two characters that leads to the development of a romantic relationship between them.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I know I’m late” Peter opened his mouth but was quickly beaten to the task of speaking. “My meeting ran over and then Lydia called – have you heard from her? She had another fight with Tom. How those two live together will never cease to amaze me. Have you ordered yet? I think I fancy the spaghetti today”

There was a startled pause as she lifted her gaze. “You’re not Jane”

Peter gaped at the woman before him. Throughout her tirade, she’d hung her jacket across the back of her chair, unfolded her napkin and smoothed it over her lap, picked up a menu and browsed the wine options – of which there were many fine, albeit alarmingly expensive choices – all without looking at him.

Now, however, her attention was unwaveringly, unnervingly fixed on his face. His confused, perhaps understandably flustered face.

“No, no I’m not”

She half-winced, half-smiled. “Yeah, I can see that”

“Sorry” He laughed; the sound small but only a little awkward.

“Sorry? I believe I’m the one who stormed over to your table and ambushed you” Carefully, she picked the napkin from her lap, retracing the steamed folds and laying it neatly between the cutlery. “This is Jane and I’s table. I was in such a flap I didn’t even notice”

His brow lowered, but his smile remained intact. “A flap?”

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m somewhat stressed” Embarrassment warred with intrigue as she shifted in her seat, out of place but not unwelcome.

“Nah, you’re breezing through it”

She laughed, seemingly despite herself as she gathered her belongings. Peter held her gaze when she stood, maybe for a beat too long.

“Right – I should, I should go find Jane and leave you to whatever you were doing”

“I’m meeting my aunt – got some big news to share” He frowned, but her lips twitched at his ramblings.

“Well, good luck”

“Thanks” He should have let her walk away. Peter knew that. Should have let himself become an embarrassing anecdote but. But he didn’t want to. He wanted more of that smile, and laugh, and those bright eyes. “So, spaghetti’s the dish to order?”

She hummed her assent, pressing forward onto her toes before letting herself rock back onto her heels. “Goes really well – too well – with the Spanish red”

Peter winced on instinct. Her smile rushed to soothe him.

“I’ll admit, its pricey but, coincidentally, it’s also to die for, so” A huff of laughter pushed past her lips as her gaze bounced away from his, shy. “Plus, you’ve got big news to share. Surely that’s worth celebrating”

Warmth flooded his stomach at the thought of this beautiful stranger believing he deserved nice things. Pinpricks of heat pinked his checks, colouring him with flustered satisfaction.

“And if the big news is bad?” He needed to stop talking. To let her walk away. But he really like the brightness in her eyes, the dip of her chin as she settled under his gaze.

“Then you definitely need it to aid your woes” Peter laughed, enamoured already, and begging himself not to be. “And, y’know, if you drink enough of it, you’ll forget the crazy woman who hijacked your evening”

“Not crazy”

“No?”

“Nah, just having a flap” Her laugh was high, catching in her chest. The fabric of her jacket bunched beneath her fingers as they twisted into the fabric meanly, pulling it further over the cradle of her arm.

“I’ll have to take your word for it –“

“Peter,” he supplied quickly, eyes following the dip in her smile, the creases it sketched around her eyes. Her smile lines were pushing him firmly over the edge, his heart stuttering a happy rhythm in his chest.

Shy under his appraisal, an embarrassed huff shifted the hair around her face. A spark of courage sent her gaze back to his. “Hi”

A quiet snort of laughter disrupted his response. The pink of his cheeks spread to his ears. Thank god May was late. “Hi”

The call of her name pulled her attention away, a glance cast over her shoulder. Peter found himself adrift without the shy quirk of her smile, the soft lilt of her voice.

“I should probably head over –”

“Would you – sorry” He winced at the interruption, far too out of practice for what he was about to attempt. “How would you feel about assisting a novice, such as myself, in their exploration of a menu you appear to be an expert of?”

Her teeth pressed into the plush swell of her bottom lip. A new surge of warmth flooded his cheeks.

“Well, given that you’re obviously in desperate need of guidance,” Laughing at her own performance, she inched closer to the table. “I could take pity of you, give you a proper tour of the menu. Friday work for you?”

“Friday’s good”

“Great”

“Great,” Peter parroted her happily, a giddiness bubbling in his chest.

The call of her name was louder this time, impatient, if a little bemused. Her eyes widened dramatically, embarrassed but bright with joy as she scribbled onto a scrap of paper before sliding it across the table. A messy loop of numbers below her name and not one but two kisses. He flushed with pleasured. Not quite sure why this pretty girl kept offering him such bright smiles and her number but equally unwilling to question it.

Spinning on her heel a touch too quickly, she rushed into the path of a waiter, close to toppling the burden of plates in his arms. A ramble of stumbled apologies tumbled from her lips, her smile turning to a grimace as she risked a glance over her shoulder at Peter.

Unable to contain the bubble of laughter in his chest, Peter mouthed “A flap”, his hands fluttering in front of him in a ridiculous imitation that pushed the apples of her cheeks back into a happy smile.

“What in god’s name are you doing?”

Hands falling to the table with a thud that was a little too loud to cover easily, Peter met May’s eye with a grin that was far too wide and buoyant to be explained away.

He was really, really looking forward to Friday.

[tired-biscuit]

Twenty-three Minutes

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: hinata hyūga/kiba inuzuka

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: slightly suggestive content, but nothing too explicit. mutual pining, friends to lovers.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6.8k+

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: During a prolonged game of seven minutes in heaven, previously sheltered feelings come to light between two friends.

FOR a woman so passionate about clothes and all things fashionable, it comes to no surprise that Ino Yamanaka’s closet ends up being pretty cramped.

Filled with towers upon towers of shoeboxes and a seemingly never-ending row of hangers that all contain pricey jackets, thick sweaters and colourful skirts most of Konoha has yet to see her wear, the already tight space feels even more excruciatingly small when accommodated by a single person, much less two. 

Especially if one of those people is a rather tall and burly man, who cannot for the life of him keep still, and the other one is a woman whose anxiety – invoked by that very same man, albeit unintentionally – makes her fidget all over the place, no matter that she so desperately attempts to make herself seem smaller than she actually is.

To be fair, Hinata has good reason to be nervous. During a round of seven minutes of heaven she had never actually agreed to playing with her very, very intoxicated group of friends, the poor – and completely sober – Hyūga had somehow ended up shoved inside a closet with no one other than Kiba; her former teammate and friend. 

And much to her astonished surprise, he’s felt more than just that as of late. 

Hence the anxiety. And speaking of the dreadful thing, Hinata’s breathing is ragged now as she assesses the current situation she’s wound up in. 

Let’s see. She’s all alone in the dark with him – the man she has a mellow, albeit steadily growing crush on. His arm is touching her own with the close proximity. He’s been giving her fleeting glances the entire night. Smiling even more sweetly at her than usual, too; the signature feral grin growing larger and larger with every downed drink.

I mean, who wouldn’t be nervous?

Staring at the sheer, sparkly fabric, which she assumes belongs to a dress of some wicked style she’d never dare wear herself, Hinata attempts to calm down her wild heartbeat by channeling her focus on wondering how such an outrageous number of outfits can possibly belong to one single person.

All right, the person in question is Ino Yamanaka… but still. Surely even a woman like her would have some sort of limit? Right?

Judging by the slight crinkle of his nose when she reaches out to touch the shimmering dress as a failed attempt to seem busy, Kiba seems to be thinking the exact same thing.

“Damn, this place is fuckin’ drenched in perfume, huh,” his gruff voice reaches her ears all of a sudden, the familiar drawl to lace it even more prominent because of the fact that he’s ever so slightly tipsy. 

Hinata merely blinks at the curse, seemingly unfazed by it. Over time, she’s learned that all Inuzuka talk in the same crude way; sharp and straight to the point, despite the tendency of swallowing down most of the words as if they can’t be bothered to say them in their entirety. 

And yet, they still put in the extra effort to keep them as blunt as possible every chance they get. 

Back in the day when they had been mere Genin, Hinata had been shocked to hear what filthy vocabulary Kiba opted to use on the norm right there – amongst elders and other children alike. 

She remembers it quite clearly, actually. Being so, so worried about what his mother might think of it if she were to catch him using that kind of coarse language. However after meeting Tsume and spending a single afternoon inside her home with Shino, her worries proved to be entirely unnecessary. After all, the moment the clan leader had opened her mouth, it made sense where Kiba had picked up the habit from.

But now, after spending so many years in his company and going on missions, running errands with him and reporting to the Hokage, she’s grown used to it – somewhat. 

If she looks past the rudeness, the way he speaks is almost one of his more likeable features. Right next to his messy brown hair, of course. And his wide smile that he only brings forth whenever he feels like it, as well as the dimples in his cheeks, and the red fang markings that accompany the grin.

Looking at it now, his grin still remains boyish even if he’s no longer the ditzy boy she’s always known him as. After all, standing in that boy’s place is a grown man, now. A fully capable man; a Jōnin with experience underneath his belt – no, not in that way!

Christ. Where had all the years gone? Hadn’t she been participating in low-ranked missions with him and Shino just yesterday?

Speaking of years, it had taken Hinata plenty to acknowledge the change, to force herself to admit that he’s grown into a person she could admire in more ways than one. Especially now, as she turns to look at her former teammate from underneath her lashes, and realizes that the childish roundness of his face and the insolent upturn of his nose have long since disappeared. 

Because as far as appearance goes: Kiba has become all sharp and precise lines; all high cheekbones and an equally defined jaw. He’s got these piercing eyes that have the power to pin her down with just one look alone, and full lips that hide a rather dangerous set of teeth she’s never been afraid of – never. 

Where her body gently curves, his own cuts. His skin is also darker than hers; tan and sun-kissed, like the sun itself appreciates the fact that he’s willing to walk under it, while it turns her red in return, mocking her by making her look like a damned sea crab. 

But it’s not just his looks that have changed. He’s also become more attentive towards others, more easy-going with the passing years, too. The war had changed him, had turned him calmer and gotten rid of most of his immature foolishness, whilst it stirred and riled her up in return. 

It’s nothing to fret about, though – his sudden calmness. He’s still got that snarky attitude that always made the hair on the nape of her neck stand to attention, sometimes in a bad way, other times not as much – he’s got plenty of it, actually. However, the only difference is that he’s also got the whip to tame it into submission whenever the need calls for it, now.

Submission. 

The word lingers in her head for a tiny bit. Unlike her, Kiba had always been the exact opposite of it. More of the domineering sort. But now, standing in this tight space with him; sharing every single one of her breaths with him and feeling the warmth that just won’t stop radiating from his body, she can’t help but wonder if he’s also like that during… during…

Hinata’s pulse turns erratic once more as treacherous heat creeps up her pale neck and stains her equally as white cheeks with the sudden rush of blood to pool everywhere inside her body. Her thoughts run haywire for a second, and as if on cue, she feels Kiba move again. 

The sleeve of his forest green sweater brushes against her cream-coloured one with the movement. She swears that she can feel that wretched heat of him right through the thick layers of cotton they’ve both donned on to fight the unsuspecting cold autumn had brought upon the village. Swears that she can feel it scorch her skin.

“Hina?” As if he can sense the change within her, Kiba also turns to look at her, now. Unlike her, he moves with his entire body; all until the middle of his chest – his heart – is pointing right towards her. As if the call for help she’s silently emitting is too strong for him to ignore, he unknowingly offers her his undivided attention just from the way he stands now.

He has always been like that, ever since they were kids. Always so open and transparent with his thoughts and emotions, he had always been there – right by her side. Soap-sliver thin, translucent. Relentlessly urging her to grow stronger and strive for something big, something special; not once had Kiba turned his back on her, whilst so many others did. 

Like her father, for example. And Neji, back when the anger he’d felt for their entire clan had been unfortunately misplaced and aimed towards her instead. 

Neji. The bridge between her and her cousin had been repaired at some point, a kernel of hope starting to take root somewhere deep within her as they at long last met at the middle of it. She grew; prospered. But then the war had happened, and its cruel wrath had taken Neji from her for a second time – this time with no chances of ever binding back the ropes that held that bridge together. 

She’d cried a fucking river because of the loss; that already delicate bud of nearly blossoming hope withering right back to dust as if it had never even existed before. It had taken both Kiba and Shino literal years to piece her back together. To mend her back into what she once had been, what she has now become again – but this time stronger, and at long last willing to pick up the reins that held the power to control her life.

Hinata still remembers them both sleeping on the floor of her apartment that she’d moved into after the war as a means to isolate herself from her clan. Every single night they were there: Shino asleep on his back, those quirky sunglasses still sitting atop the bridge of his nose, while Kiba and Akamaru lay curled together into a mess of thrashing limbs, blankets and hefty paws.

She had never told Kiba that she heard him mumbling her name in his sleep on some nights, the furrow of his brow tight and his fingers twitching as if he was trying to reach out for the phantom version of her he’d conjured up in his dreams. Had never mentioned the look she’d exchanged with Shino when he caught her reaching over to run her hand through the Inuzuka’s hair in an attempt to calm him down on night number six.

It was easier to pretend, to feign blissful ignorance. After all, Kiba did just the same as he rose with the sun each morning and whisked those pesky late-night thoughts away for the day ahead. Shino did, too.

“Hina? Hey.” Kiba repeats the silly nickname the elders of her clan would never allow him to use, yanking her back from her thoughts with a snap of his fingers in front of her nose; pushing her back to this moment, to him. 

The inside of the closet is dark, but she knows that his peculiar eyes allow him to see just fine in it – much like she’s able to use her own to discern any movement hiding in the shadows. And because of them, she now sees him as clear and bright as day as he tilts his head, studying her intently before he asks, “You all right?”

“Yes,” Hinata croaks in answer almost immediately. Her rosy lips form a thin line as she presses them together before she swallows the saliva that’s gathered inside her mouth. The sound is loud in the small space, too loud. So she clears her throat, her tone slightly more even as she says, “I’m fine.”

“Mm. You don’t seem fine to me,” he retaliates immediately, tapping his nose with the tip of his index finger with a small, albeit signaturely arrogant grin. Hinata tries not to look at the glint of his fangs too much when he drawls, “I can smell how nervous you are, you know.”

Unbeknownst to her, Kiba doesn’t mention the fleeting whiff of sweetness he’s caught emitting from her amongst the bitter tang of nervosity. Doesn’t allow himself to get his hopes up, even if he’ll trust his keen sense of smell right to the day he dies and gets lowered into his grave.

So instead, he watches as her pretty eyes dart onto his hand that he still keeps lifted to his face. Her gaze slides across the scars that litter almost every one of his knuckles; rises upwards to acknowledge how blunt and short he prefers to keep his nails, even if he possesses the ability to form claws. 

Speaking of them, they’re all fully healed – the scars. Some are fading, others are thinning out, but Hinata still doubts they’ll ever completely go away. After all, the one that runs along the edge of his thumb in one clean, straight line, reaching down right to the upper side of his wrist, is still there even if it’s ages old. 

It had been a not-so-kind courtesy from her kunai during one especially intense sparring session when she’d still fought like a goddamn lioness to try and impress her father – her clan. Back when she thought that she actually stood a chance.

Even to this day, Hinata still thinks of Kiba as an idiot for never getting back at her for it. She had been seething with blind rage, not caring if she actually caused him any sort of hurt or injury whilst chasing her father’s approval during what was supposed to be just a simple day of training. 

The action had been so unlike her, had been a nearly polar opposite of her normally demure nature, and he had just… endured it. Had encouraged it even, and smiled that wide grin as she stepped back and dropped the kunai at the first sight of a droplet of blood dripping down her teammate’s hand.

He had never once winced as she cleaned up the rather deep gash only minutes later, her emergency medkit splayed wide open in the grass next to her. Had never once complained about it. Just told her that he was proud of her for sticking up for herself. That if she kept it up, she would be able to kick just about anybody’s ass real soon.

Hinata blinks. This closet – this closeness – is going to give her fucking whiplash. She doesn’t sound fully like herself as she says, “I-I’m not nervous.” Yeah, that oughta convince him.

“Aha, sure ya ain’t,” Kiba says, all sarcasm and blatant disbelief as if he can read her thoughts.

He ignores her characteristic stutter that she’s only now slowly ridding herself off - at the ripe age of twenty-five. Pauses to look at the faint tinge of pink on her round cheeks; at the thinnest layer of sweat that gathers on the column of her neck. Christ, she smells so sweet, so sugary. All he wants to do is bury his nose into the crook of her neck; inhale her fucking essence until–

“What?” she asks now, catching the way his pupils expand when he flicks his gaze up to look her in the eyes again. Her voice sounds so small, she hates it. He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. Especially when she tries to give him a defiant glare.

Long seconds pass. Her heart is pounding like crazy inside her chest. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

“Nothin’,” Kiba finally mumbles, still staring at her. But instead of adding anything more to his answer, he rather sucks in a deep breath through his nose. As if trying to read her more thoroughly. Trying to pinpoint the exact emotions, the exact hormones that are altering her scent.

As if coming up with a plan.

Hinata swears that her nerves twitch with anticipation at how he quietly grunts after the inhale – twitch with whatever the hell it is that makes her feel like her pulse is thundering inside her ears. It just makes her sweat all the more. Makes her scent turn all the more prominent.

The tension in the small closet rises with inhumane speed when he tilts his head to the side and looks at her with a glint inside his eyes that she could only describe as purely predatory. He’s different now; his jaw clenched tight and his gaze so intense that it pins her down to the spot, making her breathing hitch in the back of her throat. 

Flames are beginning to lick up her legs at the heat of his stare that burns like a forge, now. She can feel its warmth nipping at the tips of her toes, her calves, her thighs as they continue to run their ember tongues along her now-flushed skin.

“I’m not nervous,” she repeats meekly, as if the denial can serve as a shield of some sort. Her upper lip quivers in the same way her whisper does. She says the words but doesn’t even believe them herself, how silly.

Kiba seems to notice it, too, because a dumb smirk is plastering itself onto his even dumber face as he takes a step towards her and taunts, “Not nervous ‘bout what? Being stuck in here with me? All alone, jus’ you and me?”

And despite her instincts telling her not to, Hinata pushes back when he leans in, towards one wall of Ino’s stupidly cramped closet. She guesses that he’s just toying with her like he always does; but fuck, he’s so close to her now that she can smell the cool scent of his nettle shampoo and the spearmint chewing gum that sits on top of his tongue.

For how long have they been stuck inside this closet? Surely longer than seven minutes? He wouldn’t just pounce at her this fast. This quickly. 

Right?

“C’mon, Hina,” he mutters, his voice deeper than usual; so raspy and warm that it reminds her of crackling wood in a fireplace she never got the chance to lounge in front of. “Just admit it. I can smell how you feel, you know damn well that you can’t hide that kind of stuff from me.”

“I-I–” she starts, heart suddenly hammering; jumping inside her ribcage from the surge of adrenaline to shoot throughout her. “I’m not... not–”

“Not nervous?” Kiba finishes for her, still advancing closer. “Yeah, you’ve already told me that. Now do me a favour and tell me what I wanna hear instead.” Dear god, has he always been this big? This demanding?

His intimidating presence fills the small space so rapidly that she feels like fainting. Even the previously pink blush that had lingered on her cheeks deepens into a furious shade of scarlet. It tingles across her entire face, the blush. Makes it prickle with heat.

Hinata blinks, her long eyelashes rapidly fluttering. It’s a struggle to form sentences from how fast her brain deteriorates to pathetic mush from being this flustered. “N-No, I–”

“You what, mm? Know that scent doesn’t lie?” He’s so close to her now that he’s towering over her in the dark, cornering her and caging her right between himself and the wall. 

His scent envelops her, overrides Ino’s perfume that surrounds them and makes her toes curl in her knee-high socks. He smells heavy; like the rain and the rich soil it hits, nothing like her dainty notes of lavender and vanilla. A forest, something ancient and powerful. It’s enough to turn her slightly dazed, if the nearly non-existent proximity hadn’t done that to her already.

She’s frozen to the spot as he twirls a strand of her silky midnight hair around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. And whilst doing so, he accidentally – or not – brushes the sensitive spot right where her jaw meets her neck. 

The immediate zing of electricity to surge through her makes Hinata’s knees wobble. Makes her thighs clench together and her vision spin. She sags against the wall, nearly going limp from how soft her legs turn.

But when he reaches out to catch her, her hand shakes as she suddenly slams it flat against his chest. Right where his heart is. Her fingers clutch his forest green sweater, pretty nails, clear of any sort of polish, digging into the cotton; desperately clawing.

“Stop it,” she blabbers, evident panic clear in her voice. “You can’t– No, no, n-no... Enough!”

Kiba stops at the jumble of words she throws at him. Looks at her. Really looks at her. At her wide eyes, at the blush that still sears her entire face, making her look like a ripe tomato. At the quick rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathes, and breathes, and breathes, as well as at the sweat that gleams on not just her neck now, but also her brow.

And then, he chuckles. This deep sort of rumble that’s pleasant to echo within his chest. That outright confuses her. Especially when that same chuckle turns into a snicker, that finally turns into full-blown laughter.

“Wh–...” Hinata starts, heart still thumping, thrill still coursing her veins. She still feels light-headed. “What’s so funny?”

“Ah, I’m so sorry, Hina,” Kiba manages to let out between boyish snickers, his eyes crinkling with guilty delight. He wipes at the corners of them, now, upper lip quivering, showing off one pointy fang. “I couldn’t resist, hah…! You should have seen the look on your face, ahah!”

The raven-haired Hyūga blinks, feeling the colour draw away from her face, tinting her cheeks back into a faint rosy shade of blush instead of the previously intense red. “What are you going on about?”

“I was just messing with ya,” he explains through a wheeze, nose scrunching when he grins again – all broad and wild. He takes a shuddering breath, tries to quiet down the little giggles that just won’t stop erupting from him before he scratches the back of his neck and looks at her again.

Her brows lift, hiding beneath her bangs as she waits for further explanation.

One corner of Kiba’s mouth kicks upward at how sternly she looks up at him this time. “Did you really think I’d believe you’d be nervous ‘cause of me? C’mon.” He pauses, and looks her directly in the eye as if to challenge her before flicking his wrist, dismissing her. “I know I’m dumb, but I’m not that dumb. Have some faith in me, please.”

Hinata’s stare continues to remain unmoving, even if her legs still feel like jelly. Christ, who knew he had such an impact on her? The entire thing lasted what, a mere minute? And here she is – mere putty in his hands already. 

She doesn’t comment on his level of intelligence, just asks, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

His smile falters slightly at the question, at the tone. Even his eyes seem to lose just a smidge of that mischievous glint as he simply shrugs and says, “Well, you’re still pining after Naruto, are you not?”

Silence stretches between the two friends despite the small space. The heavy, slightly uncomfortable kind.

“Everyone makes me nervous,” Hinata says finally. “Not just Naruto.”

Saying his name doesn’t bring the thrill it used to. Doesn’t make her heart clench, nor her tongue taste any sweeter. She cares about the future Hokage, of course she does, but not in that kind of way anymore. Not in that desperately, hopelessly infatuated kind of way that he never seemed to return.

He didn’t even see her, after all. At least not in any way Kiba did. Like he still does, actually, even to this day.

“Yeah, but he’s the only one that could… ya know,” Kiba finds himself running his mouth when she turns quiet again, attempting to fill the silence with words, words, words, “provoke you in that kind of way. ‘Cause of how madly in love with him you are, and all that lovey-dovey crap, hah.”

“Being in love is not ‘crap’,” she mumbles at his fake laugh, the curse tasting foreign on her modest tongue. Even he blinks in surprise at the fact that she used it.

But then he shakes his head. Loses the smile. 

“Yeah, it is,” he says.

“No, it isn’t,” she counters right back. “Why would it be?”

“‘Cause all it does is bring you pain,” he retaliates finally. He pauses, that short beat of silence skipping as his eyes suddenly start to avoid her. “I mean, I don’t know ‘bout you, but that seems like a pretty crappy thing to me.”

Hinata gets the feeling that he isn’t talking about her struggles concerning love when he says the words.

But instead of saying anything, she just watches as he pulls back from her then, giving her space to breathe; to calm down. His touch to her neck had left the skin there burning in its wake, but that’s not why she frowns now. No, the reason as to why she pouts, bottom lip just barely jutting out, is rather because of the lack of that exact physical connection.

Kiba looses a sigh at the sight of that freaking pout. Runs a frustrated hand through his chestnut hair. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Mhm.”

“C’mon… Don’t be upset with me, it was just a joke.”

“Well, I am.”

“Ugh.”

She sits down next to him, still wearing that adorable pout on her face, when he motions her to join him by patting the warm floorboards right after he slides down the wall and plops down onto them himself. The closet is so small that their thighs are touching. His joggers rub against her bare skin, making her pleated skirt rustle.

Neither of them moves their leg away.

They stare at the dark for a moment, not focusing on anything in particular. The slits that are his pupils grow wider when she sighs herself and rests her head on his shoulder, they eat up the white space where his irises should have been. Meanwhile, Hinata’s own eyes serve as polar opposites to his own; the milky circles dilating with no visible pupils in sight.

Briefly, she wonders what the eyes of their children would look like. What abilities they’d possess. What kind of life that would be for her. If he’d be as much of a good husband to her as he is a friend.

“Hina?” His tone is careful when it reaches her again.

“Mm?” she mumbles, her soft cheek nudging his shoulder as she readjusts herself. She brings her knees closer to her chest, but makes sure her skirt stays in place.

“I’m sorry.” Genuine this time. Torn.

“Did you really mean what you said,” she utters after a brief pause of thought. “About love?”

He’s silent for a moment, too. As if contemplating. She’s just about to switch the subject to something a bit more ordinary, something a bit more safe, when he finally says, ���No.”

Silence lingers once more. And then she says, “I’m not in love with Naruto anymore.”

She can feel him stiffen beside her. Can hear his breath ever so slightly shudder as he whispers, “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“I’ve found someone new.”

“Oh.”

He rests his head atop her own. Inhales the fruity scent of her shampoo and cherishes the sugar in it whilst he still can. “Not to overstep, but… You don’t need to love someone just to feel fulfilled, ya know.”

“I know,” she replies, his words making a rather delicate part of her heart glow, glow, glow. “But trust me when I say that even I was surprised by it… It happened so unexpectedly, even though it had kind of… Always been there. In a way.”

“Mm,” Kiba hums, deep in thought. “So, wanna tell me what the lucky bastard is like?”

Hinata chuckles at the question. At the fact he’s unknowingly called himself a bastard just now. She rests her hands atop her lap, fingers intertwining together. 

“Well… He’s rather annoying and stubborn. Loud… Like, so, so loud; you wouldn’t believe how loud he is.” Her insides warm up when he snickers at the attention she gives to the word. “But… He’s also genuine. Incredibly passionate and determined. Open, and supportive, and loving... Gosh, he’s so loving.”

“Okay, damn, don’t start drooling all over my shoulder ‘cause of this dude, now.” Kiba chuckles again as he mulls her descriptions over. Looks up at the ceiling. His toes wiggle as he thinks. “He sounds a lot like Naruto.”

“No, he’s different.” Firm, her answer. He’s his own person. Special in his own peculiar way.

“Is he nicer or somethin’?”

“Well…” The corners of her lips twitch. “Only when he wants to be, I suppose.”

“Towards you, I mean. Does he, like,” he mumbles, trying to find the right words, “see you? Treat you well?”

He’s the one. He really is. Maybe it’s time to admit it not just to herself, but to him as well.

Maybe.

Hinata stills at that; heart beginning to thunder again. Her fingers fidget, palms starting to feel clammy as she fiddles with the hem of her skirt. “I don’t know, Kiba,” she says, her voice so, so quiet that he can barely hear her despite the closeness and his sharp hearing. “You tell me?”

Kiba goes silent for a long moment, as if he’s attempting to paint the bigger picture inside his head. And then, at long fucking last, his breath hitches. His heart begins to race. Realization begins to dawn upon him and settles in, in, in.

“What?” He turns completely rigid, spine straightening, causing Hinata to lift her head from his shoulder. His face goes blank, eyes widening in the dark again. He swallows, not caring how stupid he may look as he repeats a meek, “What?”

“What?” she echoes innocently, the expression that lingers on her face completely coy. “What is it?”

“Are you saying– No,” he starts, cutting himself off with a wild shake of his head. As if he doesn’t dare believe the mere thought of her returning his feelings. As if he doesn’t dare say it. “You better not be fuckin’ with me right now as some sort of sick revenge… ‘Cause if you are, I swear to god I’ll–”

“I’m not messing with you, Kiba.”

His face flushes red now. This deep, crimson shade that almost matches the colour of the fang markings on his cheeks that tell everyone what clan he belongs to. “Stop messing with me. It’s not funny.”

“I’m not messing with you,” Hinata repeats sadly. She frowns at how lowly he actually thinks of himself. At how stubbornly he’s beaten it into his head that he doesn’t deserve to be admired by her, much less loved. For so long that he’s actually started to believe the denial.

He sucks in a deep breath. Through his mouth this time, to fill his lungs quicker with air because his chest feels way too tight all of a sudden. “But I’m not–” 

I’m not Naruto.

“I know that you aren’t,” she interrupts him gently, taking his bigger hand and clasping it with both of her smaller ones. His callouses scrape against her own, thick fingers curling around her daintier ones by pure instinct. She can’t help but smile at the affectionate touch he seems to execute without even thinking about it. He’s always known how to make her feel seen. “I never asked of you to be him.”

“But I’m not… special, like he is,” Kiba continues, his voice so low as if he’s ashamed to admit it. “I didn’t– I can’t do the stuff he does. I’ve tried, but I just… can’t.”

“So? You’re special to me,” she says and it’s true. She blinks. Runs her tongue along her front teeth. “Do you really think I’m that shallow to only fall in love with a man because he’s the strongest of them all?”

“No, but I do think that you need somebody like him,” he retaliates stubbornly. “You’re, like… royalty, or whatever. And he’s a war hero, a-a…”

“I don’t need anyone,” she cuts in again, looking up at him underneath her lashes with fire burning behind her pale eyes. “You’ve said it yourself; that I don’t need anyone to feel fulfilled… And yet, I want you.”

“Why?” He can’t understand it. How? Why? Why him?

“Because I see you,” she answers, frowning at the evident doubt that’s still present in his own eyes. “It took me a while, and I am sorry for that, but it’s true when I say that I finally see you; see the things you did and continue to do for me.”

Kiba’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. The prickle of one fang that the action invokes helps when it comes to grounding him, because if it didn’t, he’s sure as hell that he’d be floating up towards the clouds right now. Like a balloon – right through the ceiling of Ino Yamanaka’s closet. 

She wants him. Sees him. Him, him, him; nobody else. At long last, he can stop pretending. Can slowly rid himself of all the doubts and the insecurity he’s managed to hide deep underneath his thick skin. Can stop wondering if he’ll ever be good enough; ever be enough.

“Kiba?” Hinata whispers, and goddamn had his name always sounded so good, coming from her mouth like that? Always so pleasant?

“Yeah?” he whispers back. Her face is so close to his own now that he can smell her strawberry chapstick and see the subtle dip of her Cupid's bow. At how faintly it trembles as she reaches out to run her hand through his unruly hair before resting it atop his heaving chest.

She’s the one to take a deep breath this time around as she tries to calm down; to mentally prepare herself before she asks, “Do you want me, too?”

Does he want her? Does he fucking want her? What a stupid question. What a silly, foolish question.

“Yeah,” Kiba croaks out, heart pounding – hurting in the best way possible. His voice cracks; he hates it. “‘Course I want you, Hina. I-I’ve always wanted you. Ever since we were kids.” She’s so close. Goddammit, she’s so, so close. If he pushed forward by a mere inch, he could probably kiss her, oh, Christ.

Just the mere thought of her soft lips touching his own makes him feel dizzy. Makes his head spin; brain doing the same cartwheels his own heart executes in his ribcage. Thump, thump, fucking thump.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks. He can’t fathom the fact that she’s actually bolder than him for once.

“Yeah,” he repeats like a parrot, like a lovesick moron because he is one. “Mhm, yeah, yeah. Of course.”

Honestly, he’ll consider himself the luckiest man alive if he actually  manages to live for long enough to experience a kiss from her. This beautiful, kind-hearted, nurturing deity of a woman. Because judging by all the thrill that’s pumping through him right now, he doubts that he will.

And yet, he’s still around as Hinata leans in; cautiously, warily. Not because she’s scared of him and his brash nature, more so because she’s enticed by it – enticed by him. Her cheeks are so rosy, he wants to kiss them and touch them to feel their warmth. To squeeze them until her lips purse, and–

His jumbled train of thoughts diminishes and turns into pure silence when her mouth presses against his own gently and she at long last, after so many years of confusion, and lingering glances, and yearning touches and sleepless nights spent tossing and turning in separate beds, kisses him.

And fuck, the kiss is so soft. So sweet. His hand lifts to touch her cheek, feeling its warmth, her own two back to holding onto his other one that had never left her lap. Stroking his knuckles in a way that she can feel the scar she’d given him all those years ago and that he, unbeknownst to her, wears proudly today.

He melts completely into her. Melds himself with her very soul through every panting brush of lip. He calls himself an arrogant bastard, but he’s become as soft as a teddy bear that she gets to squeeze and play with to her heart's content. 

Every kiss they exchange continues to grow in intensity. Turns to subtle click of teeth and swipe of tongue. Their lips don’t touch in the usual needy, feral tempo he opts for, but it’s still one that he can appreciate just as deeply – even more so, now that he thinks about it. Like he’s wound up in an alley he’s not at all familiar with, but surprisingly enjoys the stay in nonetheless.

Kiba pushes into her more deeply, makes her release this shuddering gasp that lights his body on fire as he takes over. He wants to pull her into his lap – to ravage her, taste her all over because he’s been waiting for this day, for this moment, for so long. To cherish her, adore her in more sinful ways. Make her feel special with his hands, mouth, tongue.

And how couldn’t he wish for that? After all, Hinata, his Hinata, tastes like sugar and everything nice, countering the bitter taste of beer he possesses on his own tongue because of the little party they’ve still got going on.

Shit, the party–

The closet door slides open a mere moment after Hinata senses movement and Kiba catches another scent. They part swiftly; with a quiet, albeit slightly lewd pop! Thank god for being ninjas.

The two rapidly blink at the sliver of light to seep into the closet as the third member of the former Team 8, Shino Aburame, gives both Kiba and Hinata a pointed look through his tinted spectacles, now. Their respective heartbeats are still all over the place by the time he peers inside the darkness himself. 

They watch as he looks down, looks at their entwined fingers; at Kiba’s hand that still rests on Hinata’s cheek. At their panting chests. At how closely they sit together, how fucking red they’ve become.

“Hmm,” is everything Shino contributes to the conversation that’s yet to begin. Their friend merely quirks a dark brow as if he knows exactly what they’ve been up to. 

And perhaps he does, Kiba thinks. Hiding a tiny bug amongst so many clothes the wretched Yamanaka owns, would be a piece of cake for the nosy insect user. But alas, who on earth would believe him if he exposed Shino as the true gossiper he actually was?

Luckily for him, however, Hinata is the first one to stumble into movement out of the trio. Her eyelashes can’t stop fluttering as she stutters a tiny, “H-Hi, Shino.” 

Goodness, she’s so pink in the face; the blush blooming as furiously as ever now that they’ve been caught. So cute. Especially as she releases Kiba’s hand to run her fingers through her hair frantically, trying to smooth down the strands he’d managed to ruffle whilst kissing her like a madman.

“Hey, man,” Kiba plays along, seemingly unable to wipe off the dopey grin that remains plastered on his face, now. Still wearing the wild grin, he pushes from the floor and offers Hinata his hand to help her back up to her feet as soon as he stands up to his full height. 

Swiftly standing right next to him a moment later, Hinata never lets go of Kiba’s hand. Neither does he let go of hers. Of course he’ll hold her hand if she wishes for him to hold it. At this point, he’ll do just about anything for her.

His eyes are on Shino as he clears his throat, trying so hard to be casual when he says, “What’s up?”

Shino’s gaze dips to their entwined fingers once more. He stares at how Kiba strokes Hinata’s knuckles so tenderly that the action almost seems alien for a brute like him, and how she shyly lowers her head until that curtain of midnight hair almost entirely obscures her from the view of the two men. 

It doesn’t last long, however. After all, Kiba feels the need to tuck it behind her ear rather quickly. Feels the need to make her feel seen even quicker.

So after a silent couple of seconds, the poor Aburame finally looses an exasperated sigh at the new item to stand before him; at how their entire dynamic is surely bound to change, now. Gesturing them to follow, he merely utters, “Time’s up.”

“Is it, now?” Kiba drawls in answer. The Inuzuka swears that he can still feel the tingle of Hinata’s lips on his own. When he pokes the tip of his tongue out, he tastes strawberries – sweet!

“Yes,” Shino replies, stepping out of the closet so the pair can do the same. With his back turned towards them, he adds somehow amusedly, “It’s been up sixteen minutes ago, actually.”

Hinata and Kiba exchange a look as they head back for the living room where loud chatter suddenly erupts; all of their friends most surely anticipating their return and the juicy story to follow. 

His grin grows, stretching even wider than usual when she gives him a single nod of her head. A silent approval.

Who knew that all it took was a cramped closet and twenty-three minutes to spare in the dark?

[holding-monsters-hands]

puppet master hcs ⁉️ maybeeee clothing hcs! what do they like to wear mainly? are there any clothing types they won’t wear? are there specific types of fabrics they HATE or love 💕

OUGH YES i haven’t written for puppet master in a hot minute!! and it’s funny bc I just recently bought a six shooter figurine lol

Puppet master clothing HCS

Blade is quite picky on his clothes!! he doesn’t like anything that’s too tight, he likes loose- draped clothes, especially in darker tones, they are both comfortable and fashionable!

Six shooter unsurprisingly, likes a good polo and jeans, the kind that make you look like a hot cowboy- speaking of which, he likes to have a hat on the majority of the time, otherwise he just feels naked!

It does not matter whether he’s in public or relaxing at home, tunneler likes to be well dressed: jeans, a dress shirt, and nice boots are his favorite combo.

Pinhead is surprisingly one of the more fashionable of the bunch.. besides leech woman, of course. He wears these really nice black slacks, with comfortable (albeit pricey) sweaters, which he sometimes matches with an overcoat, dress-y boots, the works!

Leech woman is certainly the star of the show here, she manages to keep an eye for clothes that are both cute and comfortable! With either really cute leggings and a matching sweatshirt, or a pretty sundress!

Torch would run around butt naked if he could.

Jester wears anything that’s bright and exciting! he likes to be eye-catching, It doesn’t even matter whether it matches or not- he just likes to be bright and fun all the time!

[marshallpupfan]

My local Walmart is selling a good amount of PPMM merchandise and I work at one of my Walmarts and I’ve been collecting some Marshall merchandise because of course he’s the best btw what is the oldest Marshall toy you own mine is the talking Marshall plush from 2013 one of the first plushes made

My local store is also finally starting to get stuff in as well, albeit at a slow pace. Sadly, at this point, I've pretty much collected everything I've been looking for, but still better late than never!

(Although, there is one other item I hope to obtain, but I've no idea if it's been released yet, or what section it'll be in. I might have to get it online.)

As for the oldest item in my collection... to be honest, I'm not really sure. I purchased many of these items on sites like Ebay or Amazon, so I don't really know when most of them got released. I might have that same plush as you, but then again, I'm not sure about that, either. I do own some Pup-Fu figurines, and I think those were released around 2014. Maybe those, but again, I'm not 100% sure.

(There was that one of Marshall in his winter outfit with a tree and Chickaletta. I'm sure that's one of the older ones, too, especially since it was quite rare and pricey.)