#I could get into it and explain why but. The gist of the matter is that. Its really really really good. DELTARUNE IS GOOD...CGUYS.... GUYS .

[callizinc]

Encountering a problem right now wherein I can't listen to a very large majority of the new deltarune ost because the songs are so fucking Good but also so Meaningful that just listening to them is making me Unreasonably Emotional.

[cash-111]

Am I so bad?

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Reader

CW: just some minor hurt-comfort. Friends to lovers. Reader is purely gender neutral except for the fact they have longish hair.

Synopsis: Theo is insecure after you snort at the idea of you being together.

Words: idrk but it’s very short.

A/N: sorry this isn’t very professional or aesthetic, or beta read. It’s my first fic on here, I’ll get the gist eventually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Would it be so bad?”

Having had your interest peeked, you looked up from the book you were so enthralled by. Theodore laid on your bed, his uniform messy and crumpled from the day’s commotion, looking up at your ceiling.

“Hm? What, Theo?”

Your eyes dropped down on the page again, turning it slowly, almost to savor the feeling of the paper on your fingertips.

“Would it be so bad” He repeated “if we… you know, were to date?” His hands rested on his chest, one of his thumbs smoothing the top of the other in a soothing way.

“What’s this about now?” You said, a playful tone in your voice. “You getting desperate, Teddy?”

His face scrunched up in one of his usual sarcasm-filled smiles, before it straightened into a normal one.

“Be serious for a moment, would you?”

“Okay…” you closed your book on your lap and sat up “So what’s this about?”

He rolled around too so he could face you, consequently scooching up with a few huffs. “Well,” he started “you made a really disgusted, wacky sound when those Hufflepuffs mistook us for a couple”

He gestured, a hint of a shrug. “And, you know, I wanted to know what was up”

You set your book on the table, your eyebrows raised.

“Oh my god. The Theodore Nott feels insecure? Check the date, I need to put this on my calendar!” You gasped jokingly, getting up in a hurry. You laughed as Theo caught your thighs and threw you onto the bed with him.

“I’m not insecure.” he reasoned, quite loudly.

“Mhm” you pursed your lips, trying not to let any more laughter slip, but he caught on and started tickling you as ‘his revenge’.

Once you were begging for him to stop, he finally relented, mumbling a satisfied ‘that’s what you get’.

As you caught your breath, a big grin still on your face, Theo turned away from you, his shoulders slacked.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” You came to rest a hand on his shoulder, your voice softer and worried. In turn, his hand shot up to rest on yours.

“Do you truly, actually, find me sickening?” He smiled, but his eyes were sad and his voice carried that hint of melancholy that let you know he was asking sincerely.

“What? Of course not, Theo.” You squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, and your other hand came to smooth over his back. “You’re the most handsome guy I know. I thought you knew that, that’s why I was making irony earlier” you explained.

He turned his head to look into your eyes. “I’m the most handsome guy you know?” His usual grin finally reclaiming his features.

“Psh, don’t flatter yourself.” you pushed him lightly. “But yes” you returned his grin with one of your own.

“So I do have a chance” he propped himself up more to face your body.

“In your dreams, Ted” you gave him a quick peck on the cheek, before patting his head and going to put up your hair.

He tsked and mumbled to himself. “Nei miei sogni facciamo già molto di più, tesoro” In my dreams we do a lot more already, darling (treasure)

“What was that?” You spoke up, busy looking at your image in the mirror.

“Nothing, nothing…”

[fluentmoviequoter]

All That Matters

Requested by anonymous: "Alright, could you write Luca with a younger reader (25-28 yes old). She's super sweet and bubbly, basically just a sunny disposition. People think she's too young for him/he's too old for her, like especially her family. She grew up really seeking their approval, like she has a problem trying to make other people happy even if it leaves her exhausted, sad, or uncomfortable. but she won't compromise her happiness this time for anyone because she really loves Luca. Sorry if that's too much. I really love your writing" AND a request that I lost about Luca meeting his shy/innocent girlfriend on the beach and keeping their relationship private

Pairing: Dominique Luca x younger!fem!reader

Summary: You're sweet, bubbly, and perfect for Luca. When people begin judging your relationship because of the age gap, you decide that you, Luca, and the love between you are all that matters.

Warnings: age gap, fluff, brief angst, parental judgement

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: Thanks for the kind words, anon! And sorry to the other anon whose ask I lost; I hope I remembered the gist of it. :)

“What’d you think of that one, sweetheart?”

Luca looks up from his surfboard when he hears the question. It sounds wrong like the man in the wetsuit is calling someone sweetheart when he shouldn’t be. The word is dripping in condescension, and Luca is prepared to stand up for the woman being addressed with the sarcastic and likely uninvited pet name.

“It was really good!” you reply, smiling brightly.

Immediately, Luca regrets turning his attention away from his board. He’s quickly convinced he can never get it back from you. You playfully shove the surfer, who grips his arm like he’s in incredible pain. At least she’s okay, Luca thinks as he tries to focus on prepping his board for his morning surf.

“Peters was looking at you again,” the man with you complains.

“Why?” you inquire, using your heel to trace a shape in the sand.

With a sigh, he replies, “Don’t worry about it. I’m going back in. Pay attention long enough to give me some honest feedback?”

“You’re always good,” you assure him. “But I’ll try.”

Luca stands and lifts his board while your friend runs into the surf again.

“Good morning,” you greet as he nears you.

“Morning,” Luca replies with a smile. “How’s the surf look today?”

Nodding, you look at the water and say, “Good. Offshore breeze should help, water’s glassier than it was yesterday, and the wave shapes have been nice.”

“You know your stuff.”

You look down at the sand, and Luca decides then he’d love to get to know you.

“I’m Luca,” he says, dropping the end of his board to shake your hand.

“Luca!” your friend calls as he returns from a wave you didn’t witness. “I thought I recognized that board.”

“And I should have recognized the hair,” Luca replies, fist-bumping him.

“How do you two know each other?” you inquire.

They both look pointedly at their boards, and you roll your eyes.

“Better question is, how do you two know each other?” Luca questions.

“He’s my neighbor,” you explain. “He’s trying to ‘get me out of my shell.’ His words.”

“It’s working!” he defends. “You wouldn’t have talked to a stranger on the beach six months ago.”

You lower your voice to confide in Luca, “That’s true.”

“Excuse me,” your neighbor asks, marching toward a surfer you recognize: Peters.

“He doesn’t like Peters looking at you?” Luca deduces.

“I don’t know why,” you say with a shrug. “Good luck surfing. Or have fun, whatever the right phrase is for non-competitive wave riding.”

“Either works. And between you and me, it’s because you deserve better than Peters.”

You look down again, but you’re smiling, so Luca decides to use this opportunity like a perfect wave and ride it for as long as possible.

“Would you like to get dinner with me?” he proposes.

Looking up, you answer, “I’d love to.”

That evening, Luca glances at his watch while Street and Tan argue about which restaurant makes better cheesecake. He needs to leave now, or he’ll be late to your first date, and while you seem incredibly sweet and would probably understand, that isn’t how he wants to start a relationship with you.

“Guys, I’m gonna head out!” he calls, pointing over his shoulder.

“What? Why?” Street inquires. “We’re going to your favorite place!”

“You don’t know what my favorite place is, Streeter. And the waves are going to be perfect in the morning, so I need some rest. Have fun!”

After he leaves his team, he meets you at an oceanside restaurant and takes your hand as you’re led to a table on the deck. The more you talk and open up, Luca realizes that you’re not only sweet, you’re downright bubbly, and possess a sunny disposition about everything in the world. Yes, you’re innocent and can be shy, but you open up to Luca. He knows he was right this morning, and he needs to know everything about you.

Four Months Later

“Pretty dress,” your mother compliments at family dinner.

“Thank you! Luca got it for me,” you reply, holding the skirt as you look down at the dainty details lining the top.

“You’re still with him?” your father inquires. “Sweetheart, I’m glad you’re happy but you are too young for him.”

Your mom lays her hand on his arm as she amends, “He’s quite a bit older than you.”

You swallow harshly, fighting the urge to do something that will regain their approval. You’ve been trying to make them happy your entire life, and when they continuously bring up the age difference between you and Luca, it makes you sad.

“Why don’t you go out with that neighbor of yours?” your mother suggests. “The surfer with the pretty hair?”

Because then you’d complain there’s too much sand in my house. Rather than voicing that opinion, you remind her, “He has a fiancé. And she’s one of my best friends.”

“Maybe I can set you up with a son of one of my buddies,” your father says.

You nod, picking at the appetizer on your plate with no trace of your usual smile. Being aware that you’re a people pleaser doesn’t make dealing with the emotions of disappointing someone any easier.

“I’m happy,” you say softly.

“For now,” your father grumbles.

You decide to change the topic, and as the night goes on, the heaviness in your stomach seems to weigh you down. When you return home, you’re inexplicably exhausted, sad with yourself and your parents, and uncomfortable. You never feel like this with Luca because he accepts you for who you are and doesn’t take advantage of your tendencies to do all you can and more for others. It’s one of the many reasons you love him.

As you lie awake in bed, you make a decision. Your happiness is the only thing that matters. And starting now, you will not compromise your happiness or relationship for anyone. You’ll do it for yourself and for Luca.

“How’d your dinner go?” Luca inquires, brushing a stray hair from your face.

You shrug, and Luca brushes his lips against your temple.

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” you admit. “But I don’t want to put us at risk to do that.”

“Do you care about the age gap?”

“Of course not!”

“Then that’s what’s important. Everything is up to you. I know it’s not easy to hear and even harder to put it into practice but doing what makes you happy is the only way you’ll get what you deserve. You’re sacrificing yourself for others.”

“I just don’t understand why they can’t accept that you make me happy. They don’t care that I love you.”

Luca’s brows raise as he smiles. You realize what you admitted but can’t ask if he’s okay with you saying it before Luca pulls you into a hug that makes all your worries and discomfort disappear.

Luca’s phone buzzes during a sparring match. When he remembers that you are one of the few people who can reach him while he’s at the station, he calls timeout. Ignoring Street’s protests, he lifts his phone and reads the message.

“I gotta go,” he tells his team. “Family thing.”

“You’ve been having a lot of family things,” Deacon says.

“Just tell us what’s going on, man,” Hondo invites. “You know we’re here for you. Don’t have to keep sneakin’ off if you let us help.”

“I…” Luca hesitates, then says, “I don’t know if you can help me get my future in-laws to like me.”

Deacon and Hondo’s jaws drop, and Street snatches Luca’s truck keys out of his hand.

“We’re meeting her right now,” he declares. “Wasn’t a question either, and I can beat you if you try to take these keys back.”

“She’s not feeling great right now,” Luca argues. “Next time.”

Tan pulls Luca’s phone from his hand and taps the message. Luca tries to get his phone back, but Hondo reaches it first. Lifting it to his ear, he raises his hand toward Luca and says, “It’s ringing.”

Luca stops. He’s almost sure you will hang up when you realize it isn’t him calling, but Hondo has a way of disarming people, and you already see the best in everyone you meet.

“Hi,” Hondo greets. “My name is Daniel Harrelson; I work with Luca.” He smiles and holds Luca’s gaze as he says, “Yes, I am Hondo. And Luca is fine. My team and I just wanted to ask if we can finally meet you. Luca hasn’t said a word about you.”

Hondo ends the call a moment later and returns Luca’s phone without a word.

“She said she’ll have coffee and desserts ready when we get there.”

“Watch him,” Deacon warns Luca.

“Alright,” Luca says. He chuckles and shakes his head before inviting his team to follow him to your house. He doesn’t mention that you’re young, sunny, or nearly perfect, but he’s sure they’ll realize quickly. If they disapprove of the relationship, Luca may have to make the hardest decision of his life.

Hondo, Deacon, Street, and Tan watch as you greet Luca at the door. They realize imediately that Luca is in love. Not like the love he’s claimed to be in before, but really, truly, madly in love. What makes Deacon smile is that you are, too. Three of the four men on your walkway don’t notice that you’re younger than Luca, at least not right away. The fourth notices, but only to make well-meaning jokes and take jabs at Luca while they bicker.

“Nice to meet you all,” you say after introductions. “Luca’s told me a lot about you.”

Luca cuts in before Hondo can remind you that they haven’t heard about the relationship.

“We kept the relationship private,” he explains.

“He means he decided to keep me from any possible judgement,” you explain. “I’m getting enough grief from my parents about the age gap without inviting more people to comment on it.”

“I mean I wasn’t going to say anything,” Street begins.

“Then don’t,” Deacon interjects. “He’s kidding.”

Tilting your head, you look at Street, then say, “You’re funny.”

“If you ever get tired of Luca or he throws his back out surfing or something, I’m right here.”

“And you said I’d have to worry about Hondo,” Luca murmurs to Deacon.

“What is that wonderful smell?” Hondo inquires.

“Maybe it’s both of them,” Deacon replies.

“I made some scones, chocolate chip muffins, and brownie bites this morning,” you remember excitedly. “There’s also fresh-brewed coffee. Follow me.”

Luca watches as his team gets to know you. They support the relationship - which they ensure they voice to Luca upon returning to the station - and clearly appreciate your sweet and bright personality. It’s a welcome light in their sometimes dim day-to-day lives.

“So, what are you doing about the parents?” Street inquires as he reaches for another brownie. “If you decide to cut them loose, Deacon and Annie would probably adopt you.”

You look to Deacon, smiling as you expect a deadpanned response that will make you laugh.

“Annie’s going to love you,” he begins. “So, I actually don’t have a response to that because it probably would happen.”

“I think you should just introduce Luca to your parents,” Hondo says, breaking a muffin into smaller pieces. “If we can see how happy the two of you are together, anyone can.”

You look to Luca and decide to do just that. It won’t be an overnight change, but if they see that you love him, they’ll grow to accept him. You and Luca are the only people that matter in your relationship, and you’re happy with him and him alone.

“When’s your birthday?” Tan asks. “We’ll add it to the calendar.”

“What calendar?” you ask.

“The family calendar,” Luca tells you. “I wasn’t kidding when I said if they like you you’re stuck with them.”

Smiling, you ask, “What else is on the calendar?”

“Not your parents’ birthdays!” Street exclaims from the living room, looking at your pictures.

[calling-miya]

Honesty is Policy - Pyeon Sang-wook x Reader

pairing: Pyeon Sang-wook x Reader

summary: You don't speak Korean fluently. Sang-wook doesn't speak English. But there are many ways to communicate without words.

word count: 1,026

warnings: mentioned suicide, suicidal thoughts/ideation

a/n: italics means it's being spoken in Korean.

masterlist

You stood in front of him, hands stuffed in your pockets. Clammy and cold, yet itching to fiddle with something. Your fingers find purchase in the rise of the bottom of your pocket from where it's stitched to your pants.

As if only noticing you then - which had happened to become a strange habit between the two of you - he blinked slowly and moved aside to make room for your to sit.

You took the invitation kindly and sank down next to him, weary with exhaustion. The further you make it in this world, the less chance you have of surviving further. That was made sure of - you witnessed an argument between residents about sharing food.

You rubbed your shoulder, dazed with the events of the day. He noticed you lost in thought.

But before he could ask, you do instead: "Are you okay?"

One of his eyebrows pitched up momentarily. He nodded. "Your Korean is getting better."

All you could make out was Korean and it sounded positive, so you smiled at him. "Thank you," you said. You knew the basics. How to refer to yourself, to others. To women and men. Thank You and Help. But you were essentially a toddler with how you had to point to things. You also didn't know how to read Korean, since nobody spoke English enough to explain the lettering system. It was a lot of repetition. "But you didn't answer my question," you continued in English, frowning. You poked at the ground with your foot.

Even if Sang-wook couldn't understand your words, he could very well read your body language. He frowned. "Are you okay?"

You shrugged. "I'm just tired. Have you ever thought about ending it all?"

He stared at you blankly, ever so intently listening but not understanding.

"Because I do. All the time," you said simply. "And I know that I don't want to turn into one of them. But what if that urge... The urge to die... What if that's what makes me into one of them? I don't want to become one. I don't want to live like that. But I know I can't live like this anymore."

You dropped your head against his shoulder, winded. He tensed.

Slowly, he spoke. "I don't know why you stay around me. We don't understand each other..." He considered for a moment. "But I think your reason is the same as mine. You don't like being around the others. Don't like putting... on a front." It was the most honest he'd been about himself thus far. "We don't lie to each other. Can't lie if we don't get what we're saying."

He angled his head towards yours, still on his shoulder. "You're the most honest person I know."

The sun was setting. His thigh was pressed against yours. His voice was soft. Nothing else mattered.

"Maybe," you started, chuckling to yourself. "Maybe we could teach each other some things." You pointed at yourself - his eyes followed. "Teacher."

He rose an eyebrow. "Teacher? You?"

You turned to him, grinning. "Teacher... I teacher you. We can teach each other."

Sang-wook seemed mildly confused but seemed to get the gist of it. "Oh... You want to teach me how to speak English?"

You recognized a lot of the words. "I think so. Yes."

"So you meant 'teach.'" He smiled slightly. "Alright. I'll bite."

"Like this," you said and pointed. To the orange hues and wrong-flying birds. You repeated it again, looking at him in a once-glance, two. His eyes didn't leave you. "That's the sky. Sky. Sky."

He narrowed his eyes at you before following your gesture. Looked to the sky. "...Sky."

"Yeah," you repeated. Dropped your hand. "That's the sky."

Sang-wook stared out at it for a beat longer. "For me, it's the sky."

You slowly repeated his inflection. A smile poked at the corner of his lips. "Sky," you said. It was strange for a one syllable word to become two. But it was soft and quite fitting for the image. "Sky, sky, sky, sky."

Your eyes stayed stuck on the clouds His eyes stayed stuck on you.

"What about..." You tutted, looking around absentmindedly. "Oh!" You exclaimed and reached for his hand. It rose to meet you like he was being puppeted. "And this is my hand," You flexed his fingers. "Hand." You dragged your own across his palm, his lifelines, a fortune. "Hand."

He exhaled shakily. Then cringed inwardly at how soft he was being. "Ah, that's pathetic of me..."

"Pathetic?" You asked, raising your joined hands together.

"No!" He was quick to deny. "Ah, no. It's 'hand'. Hand, hand." He wiggled his fingers for you. "Hand."

Then, slowly, Sang-wook balled them up into his palms. "... And this.. is a fist."

He stared at it, unmoving. Having a whole conversation in his mind. For the oddest reason, you felt like you understood what he was saying silently more than either English OR Korean.

"Fist..." you repeated thoughtfully. "Fist. I get it."

You got what he was trying to say, even if he didn't. He was grateful.

But then you glided your fingers around his fist, feeling out the ridges of his scraped knuckles and healed scars. You were suddenly intimately aware of your closeness - so you didn't make it an effort to look at him directly. You just kept your eyes and attention on his hand.

He worried that if you looked any closer, you'd see he was shaking slightly. Or shivering. He couldn't tell if he was hot or cold. Not when he was next to you. Next to you it was all of those things, but also none of those things, because all he could focus on was you, of course.

How could you look at him like that? How could you just look at the worst parts of him like that with admiration?

How could he explain any of this to you?

Was there a word for that in your language?

The next day he'd teach you the first three numbers in Korean. Then you'll do the same in English. And soon enough, with enough time, maybe you'd find that word.

[northern-loner]

I found a clip of Bagi's theory on the Watcher and the Codes on the eng-updates account and oh my GOD it's so good!

The gist was that the Watcher is attacking the Codes w/ dark matter for some reason, and that's why the Codes have been so off lately.

It fills in so many holes immediately! Why the Code that Etoiles freed exploded w/ a mixture of dark matter & code blocks, it was being corrupted by the stuff. Why there was a Code at the end of the Eye minion fight yesterday, it was there to try and fight the Eye minions w/ everyone.

It could also explain what the Resistance was talking about when they said the Codes were falling out of line w/ their plans and acting out against them. They're getting attacked by dark matter and it's changing them fundamentally.

[purplecoffee13]

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 1

Summary: “Y/N hates Harry, but fake dating him for a while seems to benefit them both, and she wouldn’t pass an opportunity to torture him, of course. But the lines drawn are blurry, and the tension is high…”

Wc: 3.4k

Tropes: semi-enemies to lovers (she doesn’t like him)

Warnings: jealousy, (slight and mentions of) violence, sexual tension

"Okay, just let me see if I got this right. You want me to be your girlfriend during the wedding of your cousin to get your parents off your back about another girl?"

"Fake girlfriend." Harry corrects me. "But yeah, that's basically the gist of it."

I stare blankly at him before letting out a scoff. This must be one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard, and I've had a guy call me 'daddy' before.

"Why don't you just reject the poor girl? I'm sure that message will get to your parents."

"Do you seriously think I haven't tried that?" He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I was just saying.." I raise my brows. I don't get why he's acting so frustrated, he's the one asking me for help. Which reminds me...

"Also, why me? You don't even like me."

When Harry and I first met, he was dating my old best friend, Marie. One night, he tried to kiss me while we were all out on the town, and I flipped out at him for betraying my best friend like that, and thinking I would ever go along with it.

The next day I told Marie about it, but she accused me of seducing him and we stopped being friends. Ever since then, I've hated Harry Styles. I hate him for creating that mess, for thinking I'd do something like that to my friend and I blame him for losing my best friend.

We never really spoke much to each other after that whole situation —besides the occasional forced conversation or collaboration during a project — so naturally I was surprised when I heard someone knock on my door and it turned out to be him.

"Because I don't want to go through the hazard of leading someone on, and all my other girl friends are taken and Leila's gay." He explains with a shrug.

"You won't lead someone on who's gay." I reason.

"My parents know Leila, so that wouldn't work." He counters, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "So, do you want to do this or do have any other burning questions?"

As a matter of a fact I do, ass.

"What makes you think I would help you?"

Harry clears his throat, shifting on my bed until he's seated with his body towards me. I get a bit nervous with how serious his face expression is.

"I've heard the stories about Malcolm, how he's trying to get you back." My face falters once the sentences leave his mouth. I didn't know it was that obvious. I know that Harry senses my uneasiness, but he goes on anyway. "After what he did, I understand that you don't feel the same as him, and this way we can get him off your back."

I frown, because he's right. It would benefit me too, and I hadn't even realized it until he pointed it out.

I caught Malcolm cheating on our six month anniversary, which was about about two months ago. I immediately broke up with him, and blocked him on everything. Unfortunately, Malcolm had somehow divulged himself into the delusion that he could convince me to get back together and he has been annoying me ever since. And while fake dating Harry seemed like absolute hell, it would be the perfect opportunity to send Malcolm the message that I’d moved on.

Malcolm disliked Harry too. I’ve never known why and I don’t think I ever will, but I didn’t question it at the time because I didn’t think very highly of Harry anyway, and assumed he’d pissed Malcolm off during a project or something.

I let some dramatic silence flow over us that consists of me frowning very deeply as if I'm working everything out in my brain, but I quickly open my mouth to avoid drawing it out too long. I have to say that it sounds like it could be fun, and an opportunity to embarrass Harry in many ways, in front of his parents.

Now that's tempting.

"Fine, I'll do it." I give in, secretly getting more excited as I make up ways to torture him in my head. "Anything I need to be aware of?"

"Wedding's in Italy, so you'll have to fake a stomach flu." He casually remarks, as if it isn't something he should have clearly mentioned before asking this loaded favor.

"What?! I was going to spend spring break at my moms!" — not that I was looking forward to that — "And how in the world am I going to pay a ticket to Italy? You know what, maybe this isn't such a good idea—"

"The ticket has already been paid, you don't have to worry about that. But if you'd prefer to be with your mom instead of a hotel in Italy, that's your call."

Harry's face stays neutral, but I can see in his eyes that he's hoping for me to say yes. I'd be lying if I said I was excited to spend a week at with my mom and her new husband; Italy sounded way more appealing. So, that—along with the whole Malcolm situation—was the only reason I said

"Okay, I'll go."

*****

"Oh my goodness, how romantic! When do I get to meet him?" My mom chirps over the phone. Her voice has raised two octaves since I told her that I'd started dating someone in secret about a month ago, and that it was getting pretty serious and he was now taking me to Italy for his cousin's wedding.

It was a bit weird to lie to my mom, but most of what I was telling was actually the truth, so that made the lie a bit easier to keep up.

"Oh I'm sure you'll meet him soon. Sorry I won't make it during spring break, though." I feel the need to apologize anyway, we hadn't seen each other in quite some time and she'd really forced me to take time off from my life here and work on our relationship.

"Yes, well it would have been good to see you, but you're young and these are the adventures you need to go on!" She encourages me as kindly as she can, and I fake a smile, even though she isn't there to see it.”

"Thanks for understanding mom."

"Of course sweetheart. As long as you take lots of pictures, we're good." She jokes. After that, we just say our goodbyes and I hang up.

I'd been running around so much to try and find outfits for Italy that I'd forgotten Harry and I were launching our fake relationship at a party tonight. We didn't really set that many boundaries yet, but I was quite okay with anything. It had to be believable, and my hatred didn't make me blind. Harry was hot and I knew it, everyone knew it.

He was at my door at nine on the dot, which I hadn't expected. We drove to the party because Harry wasn't in the mood to drink, giving me a free pass to get wasted. However, I made a promise to myself not to get too drunk tonight and accidentally slip out the truth.

By the time we arrive it's around nine thirty and the house is already filled with people. Since I broke up with Malcolm, I haven't really been to a frat party anymore, I've grown to dislike them actually. However, this is the perfect place to be seen, and our friends were going to be here so our 'relationship' would be picked up on soon.

Harry and I agreed on the friends with benefits to lovers story, and that's what I start telling my friends while they look at me as if I have grown a second head.

"But you hate the guy, you just complained about him last week." Zoey, one of my friends, remarks, making my stomach drop.

Fuck, I did talk shit about him last Wednesday.

"Uhm– yeah, that was just to keep up appearances." I quickly manage to make up. They all hum in understanding, which is quite surprising to me. From the looks of it, I know that they're not fully convinced, but I hope they'll just see it as my crazy rebound phase and leave me alone.

"Well, as long as he makes our little Y/N happy, right?" Natalia throws her arm around me, raising her brows at the rest of the girls, and they all agree with her.

"Okay... but if he hurts you I will cut off his testicles, fry them until they're crispy and force them down his throat." Zoey grunts, squinting her eyes at Harry who is standing a few feet behind us. He has his back turned to us because he is talking to his friends, but it's funny nonetheless.

I notice that Zoey's glare quickly disappears and blood starts to rush to her cheeks. Just when I'm about to ask what has gotten into her, I feel someone throwing their arms around me from behind.

By the tattoos on his arm I'm immediately able to tell that it's Harry, and my heart starts racing at the realization that this little act needs to be kept up for a month or two, and it needs to be realistic.

"Hi sugar." Harry greets me sweetly before kissing me on my head. I fight hard to keep myself from vomiting at that hideous nickname, and play along.

"Hey hot stuff." I turn around, and I catch the twitch in his eyelids as the equally, if not more disgusting name leaves my mouth.

"You want to go get a drink?" He asks after letting out a small sigh. I nod, and he intertwines his hand with mine before leading us to the kitchen.

I can see the people staring at us with wide eyes, and I don't blame them. It is a rather weird look, me and Harry. However, I ignore it and focus on the main goal, I can't back out anymore so I might as well make it as fun as possible.

When we get to the kitchen, Harry immediately nominates himself as my bartender.

"What d'ya wanna drink, babe?" He asks, observing the countless bottles on the counter.

"Something strong please." I lean my elbows on the counter, watching in silence as I see him scanning the table before grabbing a rum bottle. He fills almost half of the cup with rum and the rest with coke.

He pushes it into my hands when he's done, a bit of the drink spilling on my fingers as I take the cup from him.

"Hey! Be gentle, boyfriend." I grumble, sucking on each of my fingers to clean the rum and coke off them. Harry's gaze lingers on my mouth and fingers a little bit too long, but he is fast to regain himself. Scoffing, he leans forward until he's inches away from my face.

"I don't do gentle, girlfriend." He mocks me before backing away from me again. "Taste it."

I give him a firm glare, but take a sip of my drink anyway. My eyebrows instantly knit together at the strong taste of the drink.

"You know I asked for a drink, not a horse tranquilizer."

"You said you wanted something strong. 'S not my fault you can't handle a bit of liquor." He says as he pours himself some soda. I roll my eyes at his little jab and continue drinking the strong drink anyway.

There is a bit of silence between us, and when I feel it get awkward, I decide to speak up.

"D'you want to go back to our friends?" I propose, tilting my head a bit as I wait for an answer. Harry's eyes avert from whatever's in front of him and throws me a small smile before nodding his head. I'm about to start walking when Harry suddenly  grabs my waist, turns me around and pulls me into him. My drink nearly spills again.

"Just don't call me 'hot stuff' in front of my friends, it's an awful nickname." He pleads with a small smirk, occasionally breaking eye contact to observe the party.

"Says the one who called me sugar." The corners of my mouth start to lift too, liking this playful part of him. Because I spend most my time that I've known him hating him, I never really got to experience this side.

"At least mine is accurate." He reasons, grabbing my hips and guiding me until I have my back against the kitchen island. My heart beat picks up a bit; I'm not used to him being this close to me and I didn't expect him to be either. I remind myself that it's an act, even though we're not in front of our friends so technically there's no reason for him to get this close to me. But, I allow him, mainly because he smells so good.

"And why is that?" I ask, my eyes landing on the cross necklace dangling as he leans into me a bit. When I meet his eyes again, Harry has a smug look covering his face.

"Because I bet you taste real sweet."

His hoarse voice manages to awaken a tense feeling in my stomach. He closes the distance between us until our noses are touching, and a hitched breath leaves my mouth. He smells very intoxicating and I feel very floaty even though I've only had a couple of sips from my drink.

"You wouldn't mind if I see for myself, would you?" He pushes some strands of hair behind me ear before cupping my jaw with his right hand. I ignore the way my body is reacting. I haven't slept with anyone since Malcolm so this is the first time I've been so close to someone in a few months.

"Knock yourself out, hot stuff." I tease him. My laugh quickly fades away though, when he actually leans forward and kisses me. I didn't think he'd actually do it, I just thought he was purposefully riling me up.

I can't help myself to do anything other than go along as he deepened the kiss with the subtle entrance of his tongue into my mouth, entangling us even more than we already were.

A part of me was surprised to find out how good it felt, but something inside of me already knew. There was just something about Harry that always made me wonder. I mostly think it was because he managed to hit a nerve that nobody else could with his annoying antics and inappropriate actions, and I guess I always wondered if he would be the only one to be able to soothe it too.

This kiss makes me lean towards the idea that he indeed would be the only one to know exactly how to relieve me, just like he knows how to irritate me.

I have to say I'm a bit disappointed by how quickly he pulls away, but the smirk on his face gives me just about the same feeling as that kiss did.

"Let's go back, hmm?" He suggests, peaking his head to the side before planting a kiss on my forehead and putting his arm around me. I nod with a faint smile, my lips still tingling from that kiss and let his tight grip pull me further into him.

My smile immediately fades, though, when I see Malcolm staring daggers at Harry and me from across the room. My heart drops. I had no idea he was going to be at the party. The reason I actually agreed is because when my friends asked me to come initially, they assured me he wouldn't be there. I figured that his friends, who were here, would see us and that he’d find out that way.

There is no choice but to walk past him, and my hope for ignoring him crumbles when Harry decides this is the time to chat with him.

"Oh hey buddy, didn't see you there." He fakes some civility, and the puzzle pieces click together. Of course he wasn't kissing me because he wanted to; He saw Malcolm and wanted to piss him off to satisfy his own personal vendetta against him. I know it's what I agreed to, but it feels kind of weird anyway.

I don't want to be in the middle of whatever feud those boys have, and I definitely don't want to be confronted with Malcolm right now, so I wiggle my way out of Harry's arm and try to walk past the two. But when I do so, Malcolm grabs me by my arm and stops me in my tracks.

"Seriously? Him? Is this to get back at me?" He asks, the seriousness in his tone matching the crease between his eyebrows.

"Don't worry Mal, I'm sure there's a girl out there who'd like to settle for your small dick." Harry remarks, clearly pleased with himself.

"I don't have to explain myself to you." I growl at my ex, clenching my jaw. My second attempt to walk away fails when he tightens his grip even more as he pulls me back, which causes me to stumble backwards.

Before I get the chance to yell at him to let me go, as the painful feeling in my arm had turned into a lingering sting, his hand has disappears. When I look up from checking the fresh scratches on my arm, I see Malcolm pushed against the wall with Harry's hand around his neck.

Louis and Zayn, two of Harry's friends, are suddenly standing behind him ready to fight if necessary. I'm so stressed about how quickly this situation escalated that I don't give myself time to wonder how those two popped up out of fucking nowhere.

"Touch her again and I swear to God you'll never see the light of day." Harry threatens, and I actually find myself being kind of scared by his voice and his demeanor. He backs up, turning around with a frown that fades when he spots my widened eyes.

He pushes Zayn and Louis out of the way, his eyes and hands immediately focusing on my arm that still has a red handprint on it, along with a few scratches from Malcolm's nails.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt?" He tilts his head to see all the way around my arm, his fingers softly hovering over my elbow.

"'M fine." I huff, puzzled by how many sides of Harry I've seen today. "I'm gonna go home."

"I'll take you." He immediately offers, following me as I walk towards the door.

"I'll get a cab." I quickly make up, not wanting to be around him anymore. I walk out the front door at a fast pace, hoping he won't be able to keep up.

"Y/N! Stop!" Harry yells out, running until he's in front of me. "You're not going to take a cab, I'm going to take you home. C'mon, my car's across the street."

"What the hell do you care? You're not my actual boyfriend!" I say the last part a bit more hushed.

"I care because I'm a decent human being." He argues, setting me off more. I thrown my arms over each other.

"No you're not! A decent human being wouldn't use someone for the sake of their own personal vendetta!" I yell at him. Harry stifles out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Isn't that exactly what you're doing?!"

"I'm doing this because this is the only way Malcolm will leave me alone. You kissed me because you wanted to set him off, to make him mad. What if he decides to get back at me when I'm alone one day?"

"He won't. He's too much of a pussy for that." Harry growls, but I can see that he's starting to see the logic in my argument.

"That's not the point, Harry!" I groan, throwing my head back and taking a deep breath. "Look, if we're gonna do this, we've got to set the record straight. I don't mind you kissing me, but it'll only be in public places to keep up the act, not for personal, selfish reasons. Understood?"

After some silence, Harry finally answers me.

"Yeah, okay. 'M sorry." His keys dangle between his fingers that he plays with as a nervous habit. "Can I take you home?"

I nod, throwing my arms over each other to warm myself up from the breeze that just passed over, and we start walking to his car.

Part 2 here

[thewailingbells]

Can I request Bubba Sawyer not really understanding what his female S/O period is. All he knows is that he saw blood on the sheets and thinks there's an emergency. Maybe he gets very protective when Y/N explains the whole thing.

A Bit of Blood

AN: Sorry this took so long! I had a very busy month but everything has finally started to calm down.

Warnings: This entire fic is about periods, so if that grosses you out, don’t read!

The sun is brightly shown through the thin curtains, gently nudging you awake. The persistent morning light became too much to bear. You let out an annoyed groan and rolled over on your side. You sought refuge from the persistent morning sun in your lover’s chest. Today was a rare day in the Sawyer household; it was quiet and calm. From the limited amount of time you had spent with the family, you concluded that they knew very little about those two concepts.

Nubbins was out in town taking photographs for his collection, Drayton was at the gas station working hard to get everything set up for the week, and Chop-Top was still in Vietnam.

That left only you and Bubba at home. He slept soundly in bed beside you. Despite his imposing size, there was a gentle calmness about him as he slept. You couldn't help but admire your big, gentle, manly lover, asleep and vulnerable, whose features softened in repose rather than the stern, concerned look he usually expresses.

Bubba’s eyes fluttered open. A smile appeared on his face when he realized you were right in front of him. He let out a squeal of happiness and pulled you into his chest. You giggled and hugged him back, enjoying his tight embrace. Despite the lovely moment you were having, Bubba was a morning person. Once he woke up, he was filled with energy. Bubba said something you couldn’t quite understand before wiggling out of your grasp. You sighed and rolled over to lay on your stomach.

Bubba began to follow his usual routine. Pull the blankets down, get out of bed, pull the blankets back up to cover you, and give you a kiss. Except this time, he let out an animalistic squeal. You quickly shot up in bed and turned to face him.

“Bubba! What’s wrong? What happened.”

He continued to make concerned noises. Bubba pointed to the bed. You jumped out of the bed to see what was wrong with it. Your heart sank. There was blood. Bubba began to cry. He gently patted the bottom of your butt, and you could only assume there was a blood mark there too.

You looked at him with loving eyes. You grabbed his rough hands with your soft ones. “Bubba, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

He shook his head. You obviously weren’t okay! You are bleeding! That means you are hurt! Bubba started sobbing. “I’m sorry I hurt you I didn’t mean it I want to help you but I don’t know how to do that and I don’t want you to die so please don’t die,” he said. While the words weren’t exactly spoken in proper English, you were able to get the gist of what he was trying to say.

You squeezed his hands. “Listen to me. I am not going to die. This is normal for me. I need you to calm down. Can you do that for me?"

He nodded. You smiled at him and sat down on the bloodstained bed. If you bleed more, it doesn’t matter; the sheets are already ruined. Bubba stayed standing up. He was too concerned to sit.

You used the most gentle tone you could. “Bubba. As you know, I am a woman. That means I have a different body than you. You’ve seen me naked many times. Whether we were showering together, having sex, or you just walked in on me changing, remember how I told you not to cum inside me?"

He nodded. Of course he remembered, but that didn’t explain why you were bleeding! There is no time to waste! If he waits too long to tend to the wound, you could bleed out. Despite his inner thoughts, he stayed put and listened. Bubba played with his bracelet to calm himself.

“There was a reason why I told you that. Bubba. If you cum inside me, I have a baby. Once a month, when I don’t have a baby, I bleed out of my vagina.”

Before you can continue, Bubba is pulling down his pants. You quickly stopped him. “Bubba! That doesn’t mean I want a baby! We’re too young for that.”

He whines. “The baby will stop the bleeding you need a baby now!”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t work like that. Not exactly, at least. The bleeding does hurt, but I would rather bleed than have a baby. Usually I just have cramps, headaches, dizziness, fatigue, mood swings, and a few other things.”

Bubba started crying again. You have to go through all of that? Once a month? He loves you! He doesn’t want you to be in pain. Bubba pats your head gently.

You were about to say something but were interrupted by a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You quickly hunched over and grabbed your stomach.

You felt a pair of strong arms pick you up and place you on the bed. “Bubba. I’m fine, real-“

“Nu uh,” Bubba said. You tried to sit up, but he pushed you down onto your back.

He grabbed the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them off you. He took your top off as well. Bubba looked into your eyes for a brief moment before gently taking off your underwear.

You groaned. “Sweetie, what are you doing? I’m going to bleed on the sheets more than I already have. It’s gonna make a mess.”

Bubba climbed into bed next to you. He made shushing sounds to shut you up. His rough, calloused hand began to gently rub your uterus. He continued to make sad sounds, like those of an injured puppy.

You felt disgusting. Like an animal free bleeding all over the place you slept.

“Bubba, isn’t this gross to you?”

He shook his head. Figures: After chopping up animals and people, blood must start to mean nothing to you.

“I’m going to need feminine products, Bubba. I can’t spend a whole week in bed because I’m bleeding.”

Your love whined. There was something about this that he liked. It was domestic, in an odd sense. You were sprawled out in the bed naked. Yet there were no feelings of sexual desire. Only a desire to nurture.

“Rest,” Bubba said. “I will take care of you. We can get you everything you want later. I love you so much please feel better.”

“Thank you,” you said weakly. This was certainly something you thought you would never do. To anyone else, their girlfriend bleeding all over their bed would make them want to vomit. Not for Bubba though, he loved everything about you, and he would be with you through everything. Everything.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 3 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Mr. Jeon gets your number and offers to drive you to the Modiste but don't really give you an option to say no Paring: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 3.5k~ Warnings: Like one cuss word but thats about it lol a/n: This took longer than I had expected to post but I hope you guys like it! p.s. roughly edited because I wanted to get it out asap lol

"So start from the beginning again. What exactly did he do?" I hear as Jesse's voice comes through the speaker. "He's just trying to intimidate me" I groan, not wanting to relive it again.

"He thinks that that kind of tactic is going to work well enough to make me into a 'lady'. I really don't understand how some of these upper class people think. They're acting like it's the 18th century or something" I complain, walking around my room and putting away the new clothes I bought for this whole charade. 

"I mean they more or less are if they're still concerned about stuff like having a girl go through this whole song and dance just so the rich boys know that they're up for grabs now. It just doesn't make sense" he sympathizes.

"I'm glad you agree" I say, relieved that I don't have to explain myself to him. "Well why don't you just talk to him about it?" he suggests. 

"James? I would but I don't want to make it seem like I'm trying to back out or complain about it. Plus my mother would never let me hear the end of it and she really might convince him to make me get a job instead. 

"No I meant Jungkook, or Mr. Jeon or whatever the hell you call him. He could probably answer your questions if you ask nicely" he taunts at the end. 

"Talk to him? He doesn't bother to initiate any sort of conversation with me, other than when he tells me to do something. Even when he asks questions he expects me to answer with a 'yes' or 'no' and stops me from asking him anything even if I try" I groan, disgusted at the thought of trying to speak to him like I would any other person.

"He would just reprimand me for not doing the homework he gave me since it probably has all the answers I'm looking for" I huff. "Have you done the homework?" Jesse asks, clearly knowing the answer.

"I read the SparkNotes okay" I admit rolling my eyes "So I know gist of it. I showed you how thick those books were right? There was no way I'm going to be able to finish all of them by Monday" I groan, tossing myself onto the bed. 

"Well it's either read or talk and if I were you I would talk to him and get on his good side. It would benefit you more in the long run" he say, stating the obvious that honestly I had not thought of, considering how much he infuriates me.

"At the end of the day though it's up to you babes" he finishes.

We talk for a bit more before he has to go and he doesn't forget to remind me to read some more before I go to bed. Leaving me brushing it off, wrapping up the call to prevent any further nagging.

But before I'm even able to lock my phone after ending the call I get a text from a random number...

Unknown: 'You have a fitting tomorrow so we'll be meeting there instead'.

I frown for a second as I stare at the screen, contemplating if I should answer or not.

Me: 'Mr. Jeon?' I question making certain that my suspicions are correct.

Unknown: 'I see that no one has told you yet. Yes it's Mr. Jeon, I acquired your number from Matthew so as to ease our means of communication'. He finishes matter o' factly.

I stare at the screen again and contemplate how to respond but before I'm able to he sends another message. 

Unknown: 'I hope this hasn't made you uncomfortable. If you would like I can continue to send messages through Matthew instead'. he offers after noticing my hesitation to respond 

Me: 'No this is fine, it would make things more convenient for the both of us'. I answer, feeling almost as if a barrier between us has been broken down with this nonabrasive conversation we're having at the moment.

Unknown: 'Agreed. I just checked and noticed that I pass your college on the way to the modiste so I will pick you up instead'. he sends, telling me more than offering. 

Me: 'You don't have to do that, I'm perfectly capable of getting myself there on my own'. I reply, not appreciating the way he's gone about this.

Unknown: 'The location is quite far, farther than my house so it would be more cost effective for you if you were to simply accept my offer. Although I've already told your father and he said he would send someone over to pick up your car from the University. So unless you would like to walk there I suggest you come with me'. 

There's the Mr. Jeon we all know and hate...we meaning me.

Me: 'Yes Mr. Jeon'. I reply, knowing that I've lost the battle before it has even begun.

Unknown: 'I shall meet you outside the main building at 4:15. Sweet dreams'. he finishes leaving me confused. 

"Sweet dreams? Sweet dreams?" I repeat to myself. That's the first remotely nice thing he's ever said to me. Why would he say that? He could've just ended it at 4:15.

Why Sweet dreams? I shake my head hoping that would in some way get rid of whatever overthinking my brain starts to do but it's no use, especially since I still have it right in front of me. 

I change his name to 'Jungkook' because at least that way I can feel like I'm disrespecting him on a daily basis without his knowledge, assuming he will be sending me unnecessary reminders of stupid things he thinks I'll forget.

Knowing me though I probably would've forgotten it anyways since I kind of black out during our lessons at times. He talks so much that after my already mind numbing classes I can hardly focus on what he's supposed to be teaching me. 

~~~~~~~~

I walk down the front steps and see an all black car waiting right in front, leaving me to assume it's Mr. Jeon. "Get in or we'll be late" he says after rolling down the window. I roll my eyes and open the door, plopping myself down in the back seat.

"What are you doing?" he questions, looking at me through the rear view mirror. "Putting my seatbelt on?" I answer just as confused as he is. He takes a deep breath in and out and starts up the car, driving away before saying anything else. 

"Oh did you expect me to sit up front with you?" I ask now amused at his behavior. "Seeing as I am not your personal driver yes, I did expect you to sit up front" he says tonguing his cheek.

Huh, so he does that when he's irritated. Noted.

"Yet you gave me no choice but to drive me there" I argue back. "I did this as a favor so we would both show up on time. I guess I won't offer next time" he says and I can see how much he's trying to restrain himself. 

"Mr. Jeon did something happen?" I ask, genuinely curious as to why he's acting like this. He's usually upfront and intimidating, but never angry with me. Maybe a little irritated but the feeling is mutual.

"No, now will you please stop being a brat for five seconds? We have a long journey and I would rather we spend it in silence than listening to your insolence" he says raising his voice. 

I decide that it's in both of our best interests if I remain quiet but it takes everything in me to do just that.

'Who does he think he is? Calling me a brat?' I scoff quietly to myself and put in my headphones, not missing the glare he sends me through the rear view again.

I press play and rest my head against the window, deciding to get some rest instead of dealing with whatever attitude that's got him all messed up.

~~~~~~

"Wake up" Jungkook says once we get there.

He looks back and finds me fast asleep with my headphones in, leaving him rolling his eyes and getting out of the car, making sure to slam his door on the way out.

He goes around and opens the door I was lying up against and let's me fall a bit but catches me half way before I actually topple out of the car. 

"Hey!" I whine, now unfortunately being forcefully woken up.

"We're here. Get out and wipe that drool off your face" he says and pushes me back in so I'm sitting upright and makes his way over to the building, not bothering to wait for me.

"What's his issue today?" I groan and reach up to wipe the drool off my face he had spoken about but I find none leaving me even more irritated with the fact that he's not only grumpy but he still has the audacity to try and tease me.

When I finally make my way into the building I'm met with so many different kinds of dresses and fabrics and ribbon and everything that you could possibly imagine that would be in a dress maker's shop. 

"This must be y/n!" an older woman, most likely in her sixties says as she comes up and gives me a little smile.

"Hello" I say shyly, remembering the scolding that Jungkook had given me earlier until I glance over at him and see that he is giving me an even bigger scowl than he had before. 

"I mean it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance" I say giving her a nod. "She's still got a lot to learn" Mr. Jeon says and walk with the dressmaker and talks her through everything that we've planned to do today but I can tell she is already well versed but continues to let him explain all the same.

"Y/n" I hear him call out my name, leaving me bringing my attention back over to him after I had just started to look through the different bolts of fabric that are sitting on the various shelves. 

"Yes?" I say remembering to give him a verbal response.

"Please go ahead and stand up on that stool over there and wait for her to come up and measure you".

I look over at the area he's motioned to to make sure I know exactly where to go so I won't get scolded for not doing as I was told. "Yes Mr. Jeon" I say and make my way over and wait for her.

"Oh you're going to look beautiful in the gowns we're making for you!" the woman says as she happily continues to take my measurements. She notices my reaction and looks around for Jungkook and sees that he's on a phone call in the other room.

"It's okay I won't make them girly and pink". "How did you kno-"

"A woman always knows, especially when I've been in this business for so long. Also don't feel a need to be formal with me love. I don't subscribe to that stuffy nonsense" she says with a chuckle. 

"But you make dresses for them" I say confused with her stance on things. "It's good money dearie, plus I enjoy making them. I started sewing at the age of four believe it or not!" she says looking up at me over the edge of her glasses as she checks to see how long she'll need to make the dresses. 

"Are you clumsy at all?" she asks rather randomly if you ask me. "No not really, why?" I ask tilting my head slightly. "I just wanted to see if I should make the hem a bit shorter so you wouldn't step on it but I think you'll be just fine" she finishes and takes a final look at me and at the measurements she's written down. 

"Perfect! Go ahead and sit down over there and rest your legs a bit while I bring out some dresses that you'll be trying on" she says and turns to make her way over towards the backroom.

"Dresses? There's more than one?" I question and she unfortunately doesn't hear me since she's already out of earshot. 

"You'll be trying on at least five dresses today. Just so we can make sure we choose the right one" Jungkook says right behind me, scaring the shit out of me.

"Sh- I mean, you startled me" I say placing a hand over my chest. "You'll live" he says simply and goes to sit on one of the chairs facing the stool I had been standing on.

"Are you going to just sit there and watch?" I question, seeing as he hasn't made moves to do much else.

"It's one of my tasks of being your tutor" he says and fishes out his phone to respond to what I assume is another message. 

"Your job is to watch me try on pretty dresses?" I question, amused by the situation.

"Yes y/n, it is my duty to make sure that the dresses we choose match the themes of whatever events we are going to. As well as being appropriate to the trends nowadays" he finishes and lowers his voice when he sees the seamstress come back. 

"I heard that" she says while rolling a rack of dresses into the room.

"Do you see one you like?" she asks and motions for me to come closer. I look at the rack and see there are so many dresses of different colors and patterns and styles. I just don't know what to pick.

"Which one do you think I should try on?" I ask turning towards her. "Well why don't we let Mr. Jeon choose, since he so kindly reminded me that my taste is out of date" she says and winks at me, showing me she's teasing while simultaneously giving Jungkook the cold shoulder. 

"I did not mean it as any disrespect. What I was trying to say wa-"

"Oh hush child, just come over here and choose a dress before I really start to get upset with you" she teases and he walks closer to the rack looking through the dresses while he sends a glance my way most likely debating on which one might suit me best.

He takes a second to think after looking through all of them but doesn't seem to find one he's satisfied with. Looking around the room for a second he finds another dress on display and walks over to it to take a closer look. 

"This one" he says almost bored and walks back over to sit in the chair he had been occupying moments ago.

"He's cranky today isn't he?" she whispers to me and I nod my head quickly agreeing. "I'm glad you noticed too" I say and she walks to the back and grabs that exact dress in my size.

"Go ahead and change over there and I'll grab some pins incase we need to alter it" she says and I do as I'm told. 

Coming out of the little dressing room she has I smooth the dress out and watch as her eyes light up.

"This looks incredible on you! I don't even think I'll need to alter it at all!" she says excitedly. I smile at her and thank her silently and see Jungkook walking over to take a closer look. 

He takes in my figure from top to bottom and has me do a slight twirl to see it from all angles. "We'll take this one" he says and starts to walk over to the counter to settle the bill.

"That's it?" I question her, confused as to how we actually managed to finish this all without me having to try on a bunch more.

"I mean he did pick the perfect dress for you" she says walking me up to the full length mirror and I'm shocked at how much I love it as well. 

I twist and turn around a bit more to see the movement of the dress and the more I watch the more I fall in love with it.

"You're right, this one's perfect!" I say and turn my vision towards where Jungkook had gone to and I notice that he's most likely been watching me this entire time.

He clears his throat and fixes his posture to try to cover up for himself but I can see how almost bashful he looks from being caught in the act. 

"Why don't you go change and then we'll have this all settled by the time you're done" she says and ushers me back in the room again.

"By the way, is there something going on between you two?" she questions, catching me off guard. "What do you mean?" I ask turning around to face her.

"I mean I've never seen him look at someone like he just was a few moments ago" she points out, confirming my suspicions. 

"Plus, in all my years of him bringing his students here he has never once put in any effort to pick out a dress, and half the time the student ends up loving the dress while both Jungkook and I disagree but he lets them choose it nonetheless" she says and I take a look at myself in the mirror again, trying to asses if this is the one that I really truly want.

"It just seemed like he knew you and he knew exactly what would look good on you without even having to try" she says giving me a smug smirk. "No ma'am please it's nothing like tha-"

"I'm just kidding child don't worry. I swear no one in your generation can take a joke anymore" she says and walks out of the room laughing at the slight panic I had started to go through.

~~~~

"Thanks for the ride" I say when we pull up to my house, this time having sat in the front seat.

"No problem" he says and looks over at me, this being the first time he truly had this entire trip, or at least the first time I noticed.

"Hey can I ask you a question?" I say, stopping before I reach for the handle to get out. "You just did" he says, this being one of the first times he's tried to make some sort of joke. 

I roll my eyes at him and I see a flash of an almost smile but it's gone as soon as it came, being replaced with his usual stoic expression.

"How did you know what dress to choose for me?" I ask and watch as he gets awkward again just like he had done when we were back at the modiste.

He turns to look out the wind shield, this time giving me a full view of how the tips of his ears have gone a bit red from the question.

"I'm not sure. I think having to go through that process so many times it just seemed like that one was the obvious pick" he says and gets out of the car.

"What are you doing?" I ask following suit and watch as he pulls the garment bag out and starts walking up the steps to the front door.

"I'm making sure the dress stays well taken care of. I'll hand it to one of the staff when they open the door" he says and waits for me at the top of the stairs.

Before I'm even able to reach for my keys I hear the door being unlocked and the face of my mother comes into view. 

"Oh hello, you must be Mr. Jeon" she says sending him a bright smile to which he reciprocates and bows a bit as a sign of respect.

"Hello, I just wanted to make sure that y/n and her dress got back safely" he says and she waves one of the housekeepers over to carry it up to my room for us.It would've been fine by me if I could've just done all of this by myself.

"Well that was very sweet of you. Would you like to stay for dinner? It should be ready soon, plus we would like to show our gratitude to you for making such a long journey there and back for her" she offers. 

"Perhaps another time. I have a business meeting across town tonight but thank you so much for your generosity" he says, politely declining.

"Well thank you again for bringing her home" she reiterates and I start to not so subtly try to usher her back inside.

"Come on mom he said he has to go" I say to her under my breath.

"Well it was so nice to meet you Mr. Jeon. I hope we'll see each other again soon" she says, leaving me having to almost push her inside. 

"Thank you Mr. Jeon have a good night" I say and as I turn to close the door he says the same thing that had me over thinking just last night.

"Good night y/n, sweet dreams" he says with a soft smile and heads to his car, driving off and leaving me with a confused mix of emotions yet again. 

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[lazyneonrabbitt]

Daryl has never been so proud.

After managing to get her into a car, which presented itself to be quite the challenge they had driven out to her last living space and took all the pelts and items she had left behind.

It was clear as day she was terrified of the vehicle but she soldiered through, wrapping herself and her son into their retrieved pelts for some comfort on the way home.

She did it scared.

"Where ya wan' these?" Daryl stepped through the doorway with a stack of pelts in his arms, staring at her pointing up the stairs and walking to show him. He followed suit.

The room she had been using for the last few days was still relatively empty besides a bed and a cabinet, but she wanted the pelts there, and the bed gone aparently.

"So, bed out." Nod.

"Mattress too?" He got a look in return, not really sure what it meant so he kept it up against the wall for now. "So what's next? Wanna check the community stash fer somthin' ta wear?"

Another short moment of quiet before she nodded. She wasn't comfortable around the people yet, had tried to meet some but quickly hid when even one too many came up to her. "Ya got me witya, ain' no one botherin'ya."

And so their first official trip around the community was a fact. Olivia had given them space on Daryl's request and promised to watch her as she dug through the inventory of clothing and fabric items and after having picked out a bunch of stuff and having wrapped herself in a thick, soft flannel Daryl had called Olivia back to check on their selection and went back home again.

It wasn't strange they caught a bunch of stares from original residents, seeing the strange new woman walking around and barely knowing how to function as a human. Even after being explained the situation they still weren't happy with this feral person freely walking around.

Daryl watched her pull the flannel closer to her body, head ducked low as to hide and put an arm around her. "Ignore them. 'M happy yer here so it don' matter what they think." She pressed further into his side, as close as she could while she held her son and Daryl carried their haul.

Another little victory for her.

Back home she quickly went back upstairs again, trying to get help with putting everything away. "Yeah I suck at foldin' this. Ya gotta ask Carol."

He knew she didn't want to. While Carol had offered her things she was still wary. Which he found a little weird with how easily she seemed to have stepped up to the gate and interacted with Rick. Probably adrenaline and the dire need for help.

"I'll come witya, but yer doin' the askin'." A grumble was all he got as reply as she picked up the newborn again and handed him over.

So now the three of them were on their way to two houses over. Her up front with Daryl at the porch steps with his son in his arms, which Carol found an absolutely beautiful picture.

"What brings you here, sweetie?" Carol stared at the scared woman and paid attention to her motions and noises, trying to get at least some gist of what she needed.

"I gotta come with you?" Nod nod. Carol nudded in return and agreed to follow, giving Daryl a look in hopes he'd tell her more but he shook his head. "Ain't helpin' er. She's gotta learn." He only shrugged and continued to play with the little one in his arms.

"You're good at that." She commented on the way he was so calmly handling his child he didn't even know he had a week ago.

Back home upstairs Carol was led to the pile of clothes, watching as she grabbed a shirt, flopping it into a somewhat folded mess and held it out to Carol who now understood why she needed help. "Yeah okay I see. Daryl sucks at folding laundry so you asked me huh." A proud smile made its way into her face as she nodded. She was pleased to be understood by someone else than Daryl.

"Okay so I'll show you and you watch first, okay?" Nod nod.

And so Daryl was seated on top of the nest of pelts with his son, absentmindedly chatting and bonding while the women were working through laundry lessons. "Shirt. Easy." Carol's voice was soft and clear as she talked through the steps of folding different items and watched her steps being repeated in a well enough matter. "You got this! You learn quick." She smiled widely with her compliment. "Now, don't be afraid to come by for more help, okay? I'm a friend."

Daryl said that word a lot. Friend. She knew it was a good one, it held a good feeling from long ago before she lost it all.

"--anh yoo" it felt weird to use her voice, but she knew she had to eventually. But when Daryl shot up at the sound she spooked a little. "Didya just.. talk?" The energy coming off both humans was that of pride and happines. So much it warmed her on the inside. She gloated and happily nodded. "Anhcyoo" she repeated herself and it was clear that she meant 'thank you'.

"Look at ya sayin' yer words." He had a hard time containing his excitement at her progress, and Carol couldn't help but give him a knowing smile.

"'M' so proud o' ya, wolfie."

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: After some time there's a new one!

[Pt.1] [Pt.2]

[bridgetoesoteria]

💓Sunday Special: What lessons are your ancestors tired of you repeating?

In the spirit of Sunday, I wanted to post something that digs deep. What lesson(s) do they see you constantly repeating? Why does it matter? How can you move past it?

This reading is open to anyone who believes in some kind of guiding higher power, you needn't resonate with the term "ancestors." I'll be using terms interchangeably throughout.

As always, piles are left to right and I hope it resonates 😙

~ K

No TL;DRs with this post. Sorry not sorry 💋

Pile 1

Spread: 6 of Swords, The Lovers, King of Wands, Justice. Bottom of deck is The Star.

So this will be your main spread. It is about the lesson they see you repeating the most. When I started shuffling I heard "naive/naivete." I also heard, "you can't heal in the place that you are broken." I don't know if that's exactly how the phrase goes, but the gist is that you can't expect to get better in the same place that is harming you.

Coming back to your spread, for many of you this is pretty cut and clear. You are back and forth with someone. You could be in a constant "healing cycle" because of this person or situation. For some of you this person could be your dad. Maybe you would like to build a healthy relationship with them but it never works out. For others, I think this is some kind of romantic situation.

I've never seen the lovers card in this way but I'm noticing how much smaller the girl looks than the guy. Some of you could deal with toxic men who are older than you or controlling. **TW: Abuse** I clarified and it seems like some of you could be in an abusive situation which could explain the cyclical nature I was picking up on.

Whatever it is clearly breaks you down. You may want to end whatever this is but you don't know if you can trust your intuition and that you will be okay.

To be very clear, I do not believe in any kind of victim blaming. I wasn't expecting this message. So I don't mean "lesson," as way to imply you are doing it to yourself. In this pile its more like what concerning cycle are you repeating.

Why does it matter

I'm using this relationship question deck I bought online. Its not made with the purposes of tarot. The two cards on the left came out together which I think is meaningful.

It matters that you break this cycle because it is important that you build trust in yourself and your spirituality. Whatever higher power(s) you believe in, do you believe they can take you through anything? Do you believe that you will be supported if you take step in the direction you feel guided? This repeating scenario is similar to picking at a scab or poking at a wound. It is hurting you in the same place again and again, so you can never fully heal. For some of you, you may have kids that are watching you repeat this cycle.

Besides that I am finding it hard to pick up on anything else. So I think you are supposed to look over the cards and do some soul searching. It will probably have a different message for everyone.

How can you move past it

Power and Intention (Oracle) + Ease and Grace (Oracle)

I do think its worth noting that Guardian Angel is a the bottom of the deck. More than anything, I am getting to trust your angels (or guides, ancestors... you know what I mean). They don't want you to rush the process or to look to far ahead. Take everything step by step and remain grounded. Reach out to on your spirit team and trust the guidance you receive. Rely on any strong friends you have around you.

For some I am getting a male family member. This person could be older you and pretty serious, but their eyes hold a lot of emotion. Deep down they want to see you do better and will step up if you call on them. This could also be friend or someone that has passed.

Incorporating yoga, meditation, or other forms of mindfulness can help you navigate this situation. It can also help you get clear about your intentions.

Pile 2

Spread: 5 of Cups, Page of Swords, 2 of Pentacles, Ace of Swords. Bottom of deck is The Sun.

In some way, you could be ignoring the truth. Maybe you found out someone lied and you are very disappointed about that. Also, this might not be the first time you have been let down. I usually see the page of swords as a defensive card but usually this energy builds up over time. Like a bunch of small stuff just add up to the point where you are "always ready," with a certain person. So yeah...if you think/know someone is full of shit...they are.

The repeating lesson could very well be you continuing to forgive someone who insists on being a duplicitous ass. For many of you, it could be to the point where you are turning on yourself internally. Not sure what to think or do. I think you do what things to get better but you don't want to get burned.

Why does it matter

I'm using a non tarot, relationship deck for this question.

I see a message I was receiving earlier in these cards. I got a feeling that a few of you could want to study or pursue a career outside of what your family has deemed suitable or worthwhile. There could be certain expectations you are expected to live up to but I don't think you really want to. You are becoming more of a free spirit.

I'm not saying too much for this section in any of the piles. I feel like the messages will all be deeply personal and unique. So just reflect on the cards and see what revelations they hold for you.

How can you move past it

Compassion (Oracle) + Courage and Bravery (Oracle)

Just from looking at the cards I get an energy of bravery. I feel like you are being encouraged to step out on your own. You could resonate with Joan of Arc or the movie Brave. You could know that you have creative energy. So take that empress energy to plan and manifest your dreams.

Some of you need to turn that decadent, abundant energy inward and nurture yourself. For most of you, I think this card is asking you to extend compassion to yourself. It is asking you to find your joy and reasons to be happy in spite of the actions of others.

Your spirit team is asking you to call in reinforcements. They want you to know you don't have to go it alone. Not this time. Allow yourself to have human emotions about the reality of your situation. Don't judge yourself for whatever comes up. Some of you may feel guided to a "cut and clear" or some other kind of releasing/cleansing ritual. Your angels are with you right now. Some of you may want to be more honest and this card supports you speaking the truth.

Pile 3

Spread: 7 of Swords, The Star, The World, 10 of Pentacles. Bottom of deck is 2 of Wands.

So I was hearing "yikes on bikes," before I even drew the first card. Then I got the 7 of swords so yeahh... I am getting that most of you are the villain in this story. No judgement from me. We are just here to discuss the lesson your ancestors have watched you repeat too many times (for their liking anyway).

Some of you could be a little toxic. Maybe you are wishy-washy, up and down with your emotions, and a bit sneaky. I do think some people may have more than one person they are dealing with. You could be prone to emotional outbursts and possessiveness. This may or may not have been recommended to you yet, but you may want to consider speaking to a medical professional about this.

If it isn't you that is back and forth between two people, then you could be on the flipside. You could be on of two people that a particular person is dealing with.

However this resonates, I do think you have opportunities to get out of this but you don't act on them. You could even be making yourself "blind" to them because you are holding out hope.

Why does it matter

These cards are not tarot cards. They are from a relationship question deck I bought online. Please take some time to reflect on them. I believe they hold a unique message for everyone.

So the key to breaking this cycle may lie in your childhood. Maybe you were raised in a controlling or stifling atmosphere. This may make it hard for you to transition to being a full-blown "adult." Deep down you may not acknowledge how much you crave to feel totally uninhibited and it can lead to you being impulsive and somewhat emotionally immature.

Fret not, we do not need to be held back by our childhoods. Just because you are an adult does not mean you have to "get over it" or "grow up." There are plenty of ways to be lighthearted or expressive without upending your life.

There could be a specific support group that you would benefit from.

How can you move past it

Do The Work (Oracle) + Intuition and Downloads (Oracle)

I am using The Angel Guide Oracle for this question.

I think many of you know what needs to be done. You may also have people making recommendations to you. Do The Work makes it clear that there is some serious work that needs to be done to complete this lesson. You may feel tempted to escape this work because it feels challenging but you are being encourages to stick it out.

(Some of you could be struggling with substance abuse or another form of addiction. So this is kind of a mini intervention with your spirit team).

Intuition and Downloads speaks of receiving intuitive messages from your guides. For some of you it could come through in your dreams. You are really being urged to trust the "psychic insights" you are receiving. Trust that you are being led to healing and the best possible outcome.

[hyperpotamianarch]

Well, I can hardly believe I chose this to be my fourth original post, but meh, who cares. Anyway, random note about Howell Jenkins!

Firstly, I'm talking about book Howl, which is why I spelled it Howell - this is his original name, he changed it in Ingary to sound more impressive. He's actually from Wales, which honestly means little to me as someone who never set foot in Britain, but I think I get the general gist of it.

Many things can be said of Howl. He's not really a noble and gentle, if slightly narcissistic, person as you might think after watching the movie. He's mostly a selfish coward, likes to woo ladies but seemingly afraid of commitment, is very bad with money, and... Umm... Yeah, there are other posts that do a better job than I am in characterizing Howl. That's not what I'm here to talk about. Suffice it to say that he's somehow likable in spite of all these flaws.

What I am here to talk about, however, is two common misconceptions about Howl that are somewhat related to the flaws listed above: one is that Howl is running away from student debt and didn't finish his doctorate, and the other is that he invented the titular Moving Castle to evade taxes. While those actions are indeed in character for Howl, they are both contradicted by the book itself (to a degree).

To start with the first one: Howell only talks about his thesis once in the book - when explaining to miss Angorian, an English teacher, why he has a magic spell. Book readers likely know who I'm talking about, and for non book readers, I'm afraid I'll leave the rest of the context to your imagination. Either way, Howell tells miss Angorian that she may have heard that he wrote his doctoral thesis on charms and spells. Notice, "wrote". As in past tense.

To be fair, that doesn't necessarily mean he finished his doctorate. As a matter of fact, it could be a rumor he started in order to explain away why he had spell books. It certainly won't be the first rumor Howl started for his own convenience. But if it tells us anything about him having a doctorate, it tells us he finished it. I don't know much about student loans in UK during the 80's, so that isn't a point I can say anything about, but I am given to understand it was less of a problem.

So, did Howl run away from his doctorate to the magical land if Ingary? No, he didn't. He actually kind of fulfilled every nerd's dream of both doing what he likes most and using it to write his doctoral thesis, killing two birds with one stone. To be honest, what I still don't get is why he kept contact with his old world. I mean, Suliman seems to have cut ties - we never hear of him going back. But Howl, even if we didn't see him use the black door as much at first, seems to keep some contact with his sister and her family, keep a car etc. He might only visit rarely, but he still does.

Anyway, for the second misconception I decided to bring in the big guns: a direct book quote about why the moving castle. Not all quotes on the topic, though, because I'm lazy. Anyway, look here:

This is in chapter four of HMC. It's revealed later in the book that the "someone very powerful" is actually the Witch of the Waste. So, the Moving Castle is there to show everyone what a Horrible and Powerful Wizard Howl is. Also, to avoid attention from the Witch of the Waste.

Sophie herself, in the next paragraph, questions the usefulness of such a tactic. I think it might actually be an explanation of why Howl decided the Castle had to be moving - maybe it's harder to magically detect that way, I don't know. Either way, it's not to avoid taxes - especially considering the fact Howl has an address in Kingsbury, the capital of Ingary, and that this address is known to the local authorities.

I would also like to prematurely dispell an almost plausible headcanon: Sophie's hat-sewing causes so much of the plot, after all. So you might be tempted, when reading that she told a hat that someone should set Howl and the Witch up together, to think that she's responsible for that as well. However, considering the quote presented above, it appears that Howl and the Witch dated before Howl created the Moving Castle, which was the inciting incident for Sophie hearing about him. Thus, Sophie is not guilty whatsoever of getting Howl and the Witch together - just of being oddly on point.

Thank you for reading, and have a good day!

[accio-victuuri]

“big name bxg c-fans earn a lot because cpf give their money to them instead of xz and wyb.” 💀

I wanted to address this comment i saw yesterday but I had to organize my thoughts first as best as i could. I also knew GRA events are gonna take up a lot of my time so i had push it back. However, i want to post about it here even if the topic associated to this didn’t blow up that much (thankfully) cause it irritated me. I’m very used to certain fans having a skewed view of bxgs. I understand that no matter what we say, the prejudice is too heavy to even see reason.

So this is more of to explain to bxgs how this statement is completely wrong and why it shouldn’t even be said in the first place.

Let’s start with the context.

On 11/2, when there was supposed to be an entertainment ban, a few hot search tags popped up. The boys’ name or even BXG was not on it but it sort of involved the fandom. The gist is this person is a former big name BXG account back in 2019 who is now a yxh. They earned a lot from that work and was able to buy “ 8 houses”. That was actually what got on HS, the idea that someone who is working as a yxh can be that rich.

I guess people missed the fact that this person earned the money from yxh “work” and not being a BXG account. Some just saw “bxg” so they made a connection and so the comment i posted above was a common statement. The fact that XZ and WYB are top stars too added to the conversation.

First of all, being a big name account that posts about XZ and WYB back in 2019 isn’t that hard. Untamed was at it’s peak that time and so were the active fans. The drama was airing. They had appearances and were practically everywhere. It would not take that much to get the likes, follows and engagement for 2 people that had a lot of content going on. After that, when 2020 rolled in, I understand how some people on the c-side of things will fall off. They probably had new interests and I think the same goes for that account. They were there at the height of it and learned how being a profitable blog works. So I wanna say that this fan was seasonal. To say that they “represent” all big name bxg blogs is totally unfair.

Next i wanna address the concept of profit and “cpfs giving money to big name accounts”.

The easiest way is engagement to a blogger’s post. It may not be me giving the money in my pocket to them literally but they get earnings from engagement & through ads/ affiliate links. This concept is not new to BXGs. It’s the same as any other influencers out there. So the accusation of spending money to big name accounts instead of supporting the boys — in this case is misleading.

You can argue that a regular person, even so/os fall in this trap when they engage with blatant anti accounts. When they comment and share those posts, they give them the engagement.

Now there are two other ways that bxgs give their actual money to these big name accounts.

1. Fansites. Those that share HQ photos and videos of them during events. How they make money aside from engagement is selling photo-books. What’s important to remember tho is there is an unspoken rule among these sites ( not just bxg ones ) that a huge part of the earnings will be spent on charity and buying endorsements by the boys. they post receipts. Not everyone of them is perfect and some have their own issues and closed down but that’s just how it goes.

2. Fan artists. The concept of fan art & merch have long been alive and is honestly one of the best things about fandom. It gives a chance to artists to make something and earn from it. I have to say that this is the more lucrative one cause the really popular ones have their products ( usually the dolls ) sell out so fast and have months of waiting list. The same fan sites, there is a rule for them to use the money for charity.

Here is a post I made before about some of those charities but that’s a very small list compared to the actual initiatives that were done for years.

As for supporting the boys, these accounts buy endorsements, magazines of them in the cover ( in bulk ), organize LED ads for their birthdays or fandom anniversaries, sponsor peripherals for bxg gatherings, host block screenings for movies etc.

Lastly, however someone spends the money they earned is none of anyone’s business. These people on the internet thinking it’s okay to gloat about how they are the “best fan” out there because of how much they spend on a celebrity is so crass. It’s like giving Yibo a gift and leaving all the tags on cause you want him to know exactly how much you spent on him.

I appreciate fans that do spend. I really do. It helps alot with their brand value and career. I personally buy merch and watch content on paid platforms. However it should not be a way to measure someone’s worth as a fan. There is no need to shame people who want to spend their money elsewhere and not XZ or WYB. This kind of toxic mindset is largely prevalent in c-ent fandoms that some international fans are adapting. If there is something that the CCP and I agree on, it’s that this practice shouldn’t be demanded of fans. The idea of “how dare you spend on something you like” ( whether it’s a product from a big name fan or whatever ) exposes whoever is saying it as that kind of brainwashed fan.

So anyway, participate in the fandom in a way that you are comfortable with. We all have different approaches on how we take part in it and there is really no need to keep receipts. ✌🏼

[shootinwebs]

( content notes: racism, colonialism, enslavement implied )

when i stop to think about it, i can't help but dwell on how freaking lonely alastor must be. i mean yeah he's a horrible little shit lmfao but, i feel, also misunderstood to a degree.

his racial and ethnic background (particularly in new orleans in his time, and the disturbing implications of that for, most likely, his mother) possibly making it tough for him to relate to most of the people around him in hell, even if they're also mixed race or from the same time period. the intersectionality of multiple effects of colonialism have a particular daily heaviness on him (and i mean hell is probably FULL of white nationalists lol) that he doesn't feel he can talk about to just anyone. it's beyond exhausting to have to explain your entire background just for anyone to get the gist of the weight you're carrying.

his vodou practice most likely being viewed as part of his evil powers (when that's not what vodou is), his stereotypical transatlantic radio voice and personality likely being just as fake as his smile probably is, people likely assuming he has no moral code whatsoever, and whatever the hell happened between him and vox, as well as the seven year thing.

it makes me wonder if some of what he does is out of loneliness, and maybe that could be why his intentions seem all over the place at times. like if he has niffty under a deal, but, unlike with husk, he's not cruel to her, he just wants her around.

and, holy shit, his seemingly unconditional friendship towards mimzy, despite how it seems she has betrayed his trust more than once before episode five. maybe he feels he can't bear to lose any friends, no matter how they break his heart.

[affluent-havoc]

Naegami Fluff and/or Shenanigans 8

Sometimes, the two just have those classic movie nights. Not anything super fancy or romantic. Just the two of them chilling while watching a flick. It started off as Makoto's one-off idea before it blossomed. The two aren't even that big into movies but it's something they do together. However, one day, after finding a shit movie neither of them have heard of, the movie night spiraled into something bigger. Basically, the gist of their new and improved movie nights is:

This definitely became something the two never would have guessed to become so chaotic. Cus, every few moments in movies, Byakuya just HAS to pause it and go on a rant on everything wrong with the scene or dialogue while Makoto desperately tries not to laugh too hard. He fails though. Every. Single. Time. I mean, how can he NOT laugh when his boyfriend is absolutely ROASTING and MURDERING the poor movie with expert precision! Like, Byakuya's just stabbing the ever loving shit outta every plot hole imaginable and there is nothing that Makoto can do about it. Not that he'd WANT to... Makoto genuinely loves hearing his boyfriend rant about stuff in general, so this is no exception. Hell. The fact that Byakuya isn't even that big of a movie fan makes it better. Also, the ways that Byakuya explains the movie plots to him also doesn't help due to Byakuya's general sass the whole time. Gets Makoto every damn time.

The initially just watched bad live-action movies like The Room, Sharknado, all Neil Breen movies like Fateful Findings and Twisted Pair. However, after digging around for more bad shit for them to find, they decided to bite the bad and strange animated movies which Byakuya has his own new type of rants for. AKA "Stupid Children's Movie Humor that Moronic American Executives Force to Add into the Movies is Dumb and Stupid" rant. Also, there's also the obvious rant about the animation or animation errors. And that is where they made their best/worst decision ever. Yeah. Makoto nearly died when they watched The Bee Movie because of the unhinged rants Byakuya went on. Tldr; Byakuya absolutely DESPISES Jerry Seinfeld and made that VERY clear. Meanwhile, Makoto barely knows who the fuck Seinfeld is, though that doesn't matter because the boy is literally curled up on his side, on the couch, clutching it for dear life while freaking snort-laughing to death as Byakuya just won't let up. Makoto also leans on Byakuya a bit for SOME semblance of support but it barely helps and the heir's movements just make him laugh and giggle even harder. The whole time, Byakuya's just smirking at him while being amused at Makoto's response. And, gosh. The day after was almost as bad when Byakuya pulled at the cork board to explain even MORE about his hatred of Seinfeld. Makoto shed many tears those days from how hard he was just dying from the whole thing. Also didn't help when Makoto tried to engage himself with the discourse by asking questions. The key word is TRIED. He could only get a few legible words out at that point which Byakuya absolutely teased him for. Like: "Ah, Makoto. This is no laughing matter! I am talking about the heinous deeds of an unfunny comedian! This man is DESPICABLE!" he says, also struggling a bit not to laugh himself. Cus, Makoto has the gift of having a bit of a contagious laugh. Specifically in the sense that hearing it is cute and, if one ever laughed along with him, zero shits would be given about one sounded cus they're too busy trying and failing to keep it together. Also, it's just easy to kinda have fun laughing with the little guy like that. 'Tis hard attempting to not be charmed by he eggy ways though some are obviously immune. Byakuya is not. AHEM

Yeah. Byakuya was SOOO having a fucking blast tearing apart both the movie and Seinfeld both cus he likes ranting but also because, at this point, he knows he just genuinely likes seeing Makoto happy. Makoto's the same way which is why, even during the times he was absolutely crying at that point from how hard he was laughing his ass off, he only sometimes told Byakuya to quit it, which was mostly in a playful and kinda whinny way cus Makoto was still losing it BAAAAD. That is not an understatement. Can also see Byakuya being a bit of a dick here by ruffling Makoto's hair or something which just makes the guy both flustered and even more giggly than before. Having said all of this though, I have a feeling Makoto finds a way the break the bastard back though. I mean, Makoto's been doing a lot of laughing! Might as well get some payback! Also payback for Byakuya freaking poking him, rubbing it in that Makoto sounds like a total loser. Nothing too lethal though. Not that Makoto could BE lethal. Just the boy trying and failing to maybe crack a joke or something but he's bad at it, regardless if he's laughing hysterically or not. The attempt is short lived though as Makoto kinda just tries to get everything back on track regarding the actual PLOT of The Bee Movie. Cus, Byakuya's actual a bit out of breath from all that Seinfeld ranting. It backfires though. They both end up in a weird conversation on how the fuck Vanessa is plowing that bee. AKA, the strangest talk they've had about anything ever up until this point... Like, it starts off as a genuine question before it just devolves into Makoto trying to end it all while covering his face, laughing hysterically while Byakuya's no better. He just keeps trying and failing to actually psycho-analyze the logistics here. Meanwhile, Makoto is lowkey squealing for him to finally quit the bit while Byakuya just keeps going. He may be out of breath from the Seinfeld rant but he is just on a roll today and nothing is stopping him. And, when everything FINALLY starts to calm down a bit, the two reflect a bit on what the fuck just happened. Oddly enough though, they're content about it. Like, the two had fun. Makoto nearly died. All is good in the world. And maybe they just cuddle after. Idk! T-T

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 19: Overtime

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

* Warnings: language, people getting hit by a bull, bar fight

* Word count: 3,560ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! As always feel free to hop in my ask box and scream with me lol.

Stella was seated on the ground outside the bunkhouse. It was Saturday night, after the morning with the bulls, and poker was being played inside like usual. The door hung open to let some fresh air into the house. She pulled her jacket tighter. It was damp out. To her right she heard footsteps. It was Kayce. He was heading out to see Tate.

“Be safe okay? I think it’s gonna rain.” Stella warned. He glanced back at her and nodded. She watched as he pulled off. She hoped this visit would go well for him. Shaking it off, she made her way back into the house.

There was a ruckus going on. Something about all of them being boring coming from Avery. The new day worker, Cowboy, was egging all the guys on. Stella smirked to herself and leaned against the sink as she adjusted her glasses and crossed her arms. She wanted to see how this played out.

“We should play cowboy poker.” Cowboy suggested. Her brother started to protest.

Jimmy asked. “What’s cowboy poker?” Colby tried to intervene and tell him not to worry about it.

Stella interjected. “Oh c’mon you guys! All we ever do is play regular poker. Lord knows y’all won’t go to the bar. Why can’t we live a little?”

Avery, Stella, and Cowboy started making their way outside to the round pen. Some protests followed behind them. They all made quick work of setting up the plastic furniture in the middle of the pen.

Colby, Avery, Stella, Ryan, Jimmy, and Cowboy had taken their betting seats. Cowboy gave everyone a quick run down. The basic gist of the game was to stay seated as long as possible. The bull always goes for the table first, but with so many people seated at the table? Stella wasn’t so sure it would be just the table getting wrecked this time.

Lloyd shut the gate behind them. “Y’all sure about this?!”

Everyone looked back at him. Stella laughed and said, “are we ever sure about anything we do Lloyd?”

“Does someone wanna explain the rules?” Jimmy asked.

Ryan offered a quick explanation. “Last one at the table keeps the pot.” He looked to Colby, offering him the bottle of alcohol he brought with him. “You want some courage?”

Colby snatched the bottle from Ryan. “Fuck yeah I do.” He took a large swig.

“Drink up, dipshits.” Cowboy teased.

Lloyd offered as much guidance to his stupid little ducklings as he could. “Y’all are gettin’ horse traded by this ol’ bastard. Jimmy, stay seated no matter what. Bull always goes for the table first.” Avery and Stella grabbed each other’s hands ready for the shit storm.

Jimmy screamed and waved his hands around. “This is fuckin’ nuts!”

“Yeah, there’s not a lot smart about it.” Ryan started to second guess his decision.

“Here we go ladies!” Avery toasted with the booze.

“Jake! Let it rip!” Lloyd yelled.

Jake went over to let out the bull. He pushed it down the chute and it slowly made its way into the pen. They all braced themselves for potential impact. The bull rushed at them. Stella watched as everyone, Cowboy included, tucked tail and ran. She and Avery squeezed each other’s hand and shut their eyes tight.

The bull got closer and rammed right in between Avery and Stella. The bull’s horns caught both of them on their sides ripping their hands apart. The two women thudded to the ground. Avery was a quick little thing and was able to get up before Stella. The bull whipped back around to charge at Stella on the ground. She scrambled to stand and felt arms under hers pulling her to the outside of the ring to safety.

Stella exclaimed, breathless. “Holy shit! That was wild!” She saw Jimmy to her left. He must have been the one to pull her out. She glanced to her right. Ryan was on his way and looked ready to call Viggo to take her to the hospital for nothing.

“Well I’ll be damned! God! Did ya see that?! Balls of steel!” Cowboy hooted.

“Are they okay?”

Stella breathed out. “Yes, Jimmy we’re fine.”

“Here you’re gonna need this.” Colby handed Stella the liquor. She promptly handed it over to Avery.

“You don’t want any?” Avery looked puzzled.

“I don’t drink, girlfriend.”

“Swore there was plenty to take my money.” Ryan joked.

Avery held out her hand to Lloyd. “Gimme my money.”

Stella lined up next to her. “Run me that money good sir.”

“That’s some cowboy shit, girls.”

Colby was being a sore loser. “They lost their hats, they owe us a six pack.”

“The fuck I do.” Avery defended. “She doesn’t either.”

Rip swung the barn doors open and hollered. “What’re you dipshits doin’?”

“It’s a Saturday,” Jimmy gave a lame answer.

“I know what fuckin’ day it is, Jimmy. Don’t be messin’ with that bull. You all wanna have fun?! Go to the fuckin’ bar! You know better than to mess with these bulls! Get the fuck outta here.” Everyone scattered back to the bunkhouse. He walked up next to Lloyd. “Well Lloyd, who won?”

Lloyd smirked. “It was our girls. Split down the middle. Didn’t flinch a muscle until they got thrown. Tough as nails, I’ll tell ya.”

“Or stupid as hell.”

The gang gathered their wits and they made their way to the bar. They figured a few drinks after all that wouldn’t be so bad. Ryan was in helicopter mom mode. He made sure to keep a close eye on all of them. Stella especially.

“What, dear brother of mine?”

“That shit could have been real bad, you know?”

“And so what? We had fun, didn’t we? You were in there, too. And your drinks are on me anyhow.” Stella turned the chair next to the pool table around and sat on it backwards. She took a sip of her soda and faced the pool table to watch Ryan and Colby play. Jimmy wandered over.

“Hey you okay? That bull hit you guys pretty hard.”

Stella laughed. “Yeah Jimmy. I’m alright. I’ve had worse. Thanks for pulling me out by the way.”

“I know you would do the same for me. It’s the least I could have done.” He tapped her shoulder gently and went to sit with Avery. Stella could tell he was smitten with the woman. She smiled at the pair.

Colby’s voice floated in from her side. “So when are we gonna have to worry about you being in that position?”

Stella barked out a humorless laugh. “My dear Colby, that would require a man to not see me as one of the dudes, or be scared away by y’all heathens.” She scratched her head and looked at him directly. “So probably not any time soon.” She laughed, trying to cover up her embarrassment at the subject. “Not anything serious, anyhow.” She leaned on her elbows against the chair.

“There ain’t no way they see you as one of the dudes.” Colby disagreed.

“Yes they very much do. I blame y’all.” She laughed.

Her laughter was cut short by the sound of yelling from Jimmy’s direction. They heard Avery yell for Ryan and the bar broke out into complete chaos. Ryan stepped to Avery and Jimmy, when the guy who was the problem threw her brother over the bar.

Stella jumped in to defend her brother. “Hey dick head!” She hopped on the guy’s back while Avery and Jimmy took care of his front. The man grabbed Stella’s arms that were around his neck and tossed her onto Jimmy and Avery. The rough landing, plus the hit from the bull earlier, had her groaning on the ground. The wind had gotten knocked out of her. She clambered her way along the floor and got behind the bar.

Ryan started to help her up, but pushed her backwards as a body came flying over the bar top at them. Stella caught herself against the back wall only to be knocked backward by the boots of the random man flying at her and Ryan. The man’s boots caught the underside of her chin. Her teeth snapped shut as she gasped. For a few moments, she saw stars.

Grabbing the wall and corner of the bar she stabilized herself. Stella shook her head. She was dizzy. Seeing two Colby’s open the back door she started weaving and ducking her way to the exit. She gave a hard shove here and there trying to keep people off of her. She didn’t want to get drug into any of the battles going on. Colby pushed her the last few feet through the door. She braced herself on the wall outside and caught her breath. The rest of the wranglers had started to spill into the parking lot.

Colby came over to her. “Stell, you okay?” She nodded and headed to the truck. She wanted to get the hell out of there. Her head was pounding.

When they got back to the bunkhouse, everyone found a seat. Some hung their heads. Some groaned. Lloyd was handing out frozen things from the freezer. He pulled his dad-stance and began to scold them all for going to the bar without him. Ryan was good at keeping the peace, but Lloyd was better.

Lloyd handed her the last bag of peas. According to him, there was a nice bruise on the bottom of her chin. Stella traded the bag to her brother for his cheek. She wanted to find Tylenol. They all would need it.

The bottle rattled in her hand as she returned from the bathroom. She heard the front door shut. She glanced up to see Kayce standing there surveying the damage.

“What happened?” Kayce asked. No one answered. His eyes finally made it to Stella. He could easily see the large bruise on her chin from across the room. A glare took over his face, jaw clenched. They locked eyes and he stalked over to her. She felt like a deer in headlights. “What the fuck happened?” He grabbed her chin to bring it higher to be able to see and she hissed in pain.

She pulled away quickly. “Ouch Kayce! I’m fine!”

Lloyd ratted them out. “Someone worked them over at the bar.”

Kayce pointed at her. “You are not fine.” He turned on his heel and quickly exited the house on a mission.

“Way to fuckin’ go ladies. This is what your fun gets us.” Ryan sassed at them.

Stella shoved at him angrily as she ran past him to catch up with Kayce. “Shut the fuck up. Nows not the time.” She would rather eat her own foot than hear his self righteous ‘I told you so.’

She busted out of the door and sprinted to catch up to him. “Kayce, wait!”

“What? I’m gettin’ Rip. We have to go make this right.”

Stella grabbed his arm. “Hold on, yes we got worked over, but what are you gonna do?”

“We’re gonna go back and beat the shit out of them. They shouldn’t have touched you.” He rephrased. “They shouldn’t have touched any of you.”

Her hand slipped off his arm, remembering her conversation with Jimmy earlier that day. She waved toward the foreman’s lodge in defeat. Kayce turned around and headed up the walkway with Stella behind him. It was like she was hiding herself from the imminent scolding. He knocked on Rip’s door.

It flung open, Rip with no hat and just a shirt. It was always so strange seeing him casual to Stella. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Bunch of the wranglers got worked over.”

“What do you mean “worked over”?”

“Had the hell beat out of them.” Kayce reached behind him to pull Stella forward as an example.

“No, stop!” She fought with his limbs.

“Look at me.” Rip’s voice caused all fight in her to cease. She moved around and held up her chin to light. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but that didn’t help his blood pressure any. Rip grabbed his jacket and hat. “I’ll take care of this.” He closed the door. Kayce trailed behind him. “I said I’ll take care of this.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.” Kayce strode past him back to the bunkhouse.

The trio went inside to round everyone up. They had to go back and make a scene. They wanted to make a point to anyone who was watching. Kayce came over to Stella. He bent slightly at the knees to be more eye level with her and began to look her over.

“How the hell did you get involved?” He questioned her.

Stella tapped his hands away from her. She didn’t want to be touched. “Kayce knock it off. I’m fine. They threw my brother over the bar. Of course I was gonna hop in.”

Ryan squinted his eyes at the physical contact between the two. There was a slow sinking feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on there, but he was afraid he could feel what was coming.

Kayce put his hands down defeated. “If you’re gonna be reckless, can you at least do it when I’m around?”

“No.”

“You not wanting to be saved is really puttin’ a hurtin’ on my chivalry here.”

Stella facetiously put her hand on her forehead and leaned into his chest. “Oh my knight in shining armor. Whatever shall I do?”

Kayce caught her and breathed a laugh. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and ruffled her hair. “Alright you shithead. Let’s go.”

Stella could hear the music from inside the bar. She really didn’t want to be back here, but she understood the point Rip was trying to make. She swung open the door on the left and propped it open with a stool. Making her way over to the bar, she hopped up for the high ground. The people in the room looked at her with befuddled faces.

The bull they had brought with them strolled its way into the bar. All the patrons started to freak out and stumbled and tripped over each other. They tried to make it through the door all at once. She made hup hup noises as she paced back and forth along the bar. Her main goal was to keep the bull moving.

The sight of Kayce and Rip coming into the bar brought her joy. That meant the bull was going to be put up, and the point had been made. Stella carefully hopped off the bar and began to push the bull toward Ryan, Colby, and Jake. Her brother rounded up next to her and took over.

Stella came to stand in front of Kayce by the door, while Rip made his way to the barkeep.

The bartender exclaimed. “What the fuck, Rip?”

“Maybe next time someone puts their hands on someone from the Yellowstone, you'll think to give me a fucking call.” Rip smashed a few bottles with his bat. Stella jumped at the sound. “Or have your bouncers break it up.”

“Or both.” Stella added. She noticed a change in Kayce’s eyes as he caught a glimpse of the bruise on Stella’s chin. She’d only seen that look from herself before.

“Or maybe next time I'll burn it down.” Kayce stated. Stella’s jaw snapped open and her eyebrows raised. She looked Kayce up and down as he walked away. Her cheeks felt hot. There had been something solid and dark in his voice that made it very apparent it wasn’t just a threat. It was a promise.

After they got home, Stella sat outside at the picnic tables when they got back to the ranch. The bunkhouse was too loud. She nursed her headache, enjoying the silence. It had been far too chaotic of an evening. It would be a great story later on, but her head at the moment was saying otherwise. The gravel behind her crunched. Someone cleared their throat. Turning around she saw that it was Rip.

“Jesus Stella-belle. I thought we had a talk about gettin’ into trouble?”

Stella chuckled. “Listen, I like to think that the kind of “trouble” I find myself in, is way better than some of the other kinds I could pick. Plus, this time wasn’t my fault.”

Rip sat on the bench next to her sideways. “How’s your chin?”

“It’s alright. It’s takin’ my mind off my arm and side. That bull got me good.”

Rip leaned forward. “Let me see.” Stella let him lift the side of her shirt. She heard him whistle softly as he took a glance at her side. He poked a few places to gauge whether it was bruised or broken. “Can you breathe okay?” He pulled her shirt back down.

“Yeah. I'm sure I'm just bruised all to hell. Doesn’t feel like anything is broken. I’m surprised I didn’t get my teeth busted though.”

“Are you sure you’re good to drive home? You know you’ve always got a place here.”

“Yeah I should be fine. If not, I’ll steal a bunk.” Stella made eye contact with him. “I promise.”

Rip smiled softly at her as he stood. “Okay. I’m gonna hold you to that.” He started to head out, but stopped. “Oh Kayce’s lookin’ for you by the way.”

“Where’s he at?” Stella started to get up.

“He said you’d know where he went. Whatever that means.”

Stella frowned. ‘I’d know? What the hell?’ She wandered to the barn. The lights were on, but no one was inside that she could see. The first few steps she took into the barn were slow. She didn’t want to throw an unnecessary punch at someone.

Abigail’s stall window wasn’t closed. Stella realized this as her mare’s head poked out. “What is this still doin’ open?” She rubbed the horse’s soft cheek. It wasn’t like Jimmy to forget one stall. Tank’s window was still open too. Looking around, Stella noticed they were only two open. She frowned. Tank was gone. Grabbing a hold of Abigail’s face, she softly asked her to take her to them.

If Kayce and Tank were indeed at the river, it was going to take Stella longer to reach them than normal. She had to keep Abigail at a slow, floaty trot. Her ribs killed her. No they weren’t broken, she was sure, but they damn sure let her know they were unhappy at the abuse from poker.

By the time she reached the river, she scanned along the bank while she tried to catch her breath. There wasn’t any sign of Kayce that she could see. Stella laughed and patted Abigail’s shoulder. “You just wanted to come to the river, didn’t you?”

Stella dismounted as gently as she could. There were sounds of discomfort that escaped her as she swung her leg and dropped down. Making sure she had a hold of her reins she turned around to look for Kayce. Or Tank even.

“What else happened to you from the bar?”

Stella squealed in fright. The scream caught in her throat. She didn’t want to let the whole state of Montana know she was out here. “Good lord Kayce!” Her hand gripped Abigail’s mane. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“It wasn’t just your chin, was it?”

“Actually, it was.”

“Then what’s got you hissing like a rattlesnake every time you move? Why’d you come up here at a slow trot?”

“Before the bar we played cowboy poker.”

“You really can’t resist being reckless when I’m not around, can you?”

“Let me reiterate from earlier.” Stella took a dramatic pause and cleared her throat. “No. And anyway, Avery and I won 50/50. All your boys split when that bull came a-knockin’.” She grinned smugly.

“Where’d you get hit?”

“My side and my arm. Nothin’s broken Kayce. Just bruised. I’ll be just fine.” He moved to come closer to her. It made her very aware that he was in her bubble. “No you can’t see. You won’t be able to see in the dark anyhow.”

Sighing, he gazed down at her. Stella looked up shyly. His sigh sounded disappointed. If this man had any grey hairs, she was probably at the root for a good bit of them. Kayce was reckless, yes. There was a level headedness about his version though. He took calculated risks. Stella just jumped.

“Kace, I’ll be fine. Just need some Tylenol, a shower, and good sleep. Which I should be heading home to do just that.” She moved back toward her mare.

He reached out and grabbed her arm gently enough to not hurt her, but firm enough to stop her. “Oh, no no no you don’t.”

Stella groaned. “I’m tired. I wanna go home. I wanna sleep in my own bed, not a bunk.” Her shoulders dropped in defeat.

“Then I’m takin’ ya.” He left no room for argument. He placed himself next to the bay roan with his hands cupped to give Stella a step up.

She relaxed in her saddle with a sigh. “Then how am I gonna get back here tomorrow?”

“Did I say I was gonna leave once I got there?”

“I mean, yeah, just invite yourself to stay a while, why don’tcha.” Stella sarcastically replied while Kayce got up in his saddle.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn. People say these "offer within 2 weeks" (of full request, not of querying) stories we hear from writers who sign with agents are outliers, not the norm. That offers could still come at 8 weeks or 12 weeks or 6 months or 12 months! Thing is ... those "offer within 2 weeks" of request stories ring true to me and many writers in my group for a reason. I'll try to explain... If an agent is excited, I think they will try to carve out the time to read the manuscript and offer. Maybe not in 2 weeks but like in a 4-6 maybe at least? Now, agents are busy, publishing is slow, life gets in the way ... okay, fair enough. But if weeks and weeks or months and months elapse, how can the agent maintain the level of enthusiasm they had when requesting it all that time later? And won't they be wondering in the back of their minds ... why no one else offered on the manuscript in the interim? Won't they assume it's not that hot if the author hasn't pinged them with an offer? My last manuscript had lots of full requests that dwindled into silence and nothing. My new manuscript - it's going better and I have a full out with an agent who wrote me a literal love letter of praise about the premise, my writing, that they were looking for an author just like me ... heading into 2 months now of silence. I find it hard to believe their enthusiasm hasn't cooled. Or they wouldn't send an email to let me know they still plan to get to it or if they're getting second reads, etc. Sorry for the rant. I suppose I'm just asking - from an agent's point of view, can you keep up the enthusiasm you had when you requested it months ago? Wouldn't you wonder why no one else offered on it? Do you have any stories of offering on things like months and months after you requested where you didn't wonder why no one else had offered or where it was still as great as you thought when you requested? Thanks - love your blog! (And sorry again for the wall of text, typing this has felt cathartic so hoping you skimmed lol.)

in all seriousness, my eyes bounced off this pretty quickly but I think I got the gist, and basically - I'll just answer the bottom questions:

can you keep up the enthusiasm you had when you requested it months ago? Thing is, my "enthusiasm" on a full is more along the lines of "omg this isn't trash! maybe this is great!" -- rather than "oooh, I'm gonna sell this for a million dollars, let me choose what I'm gonna wear to the movie premiere!" -- yea I can keep that level of enthusiasm up.

Wouldn't you wonder why no one else offered on it? I don't give a good gotdam what other agents think or do, if I'm being honest.

Do you have any stories of offering on things like months and months after you requested where you didn't wonder why no one else had offered or where it was still as great as you thought when you requested?

Again, it's not a matter of "still as great as I thought" -- I didn't think it was great? It was just a query! When I request a full it's because I think it has promise. It could potentially be great. I'll find out if it is actually great when I read it -- which might be soon, but probably won't be! If it IS great, I wouldn't wonder why nobody else had offered. If I were to think about other agents at all in that moment, it would at most be to be GLAD that nobody else had offered. They are fools, anyway, I WIN. :-)

I mean, I've said a thousand times that "lots of times it takes a long time to get an offer on a full" -- because lots of times it takes a long time to get an offer on a full. Just like it usually takes a long time for a book to get acquired by a publisher (and you COULD make the exact same arguments that I assume you are making above about that!)

The story about how I sent out a book at 4pm and had a huge offer with multiple people at the publisher having read the book by 9am the next day is quite memorable because it has happened ONCE. No, I don't have stories about "things took a long time and eventually worked out" because that's MOSTLY what happens.

If you and your writing group would prefer to believe something different and more upsetting? . . . OK!