#I don’t have the drive to really sit down and create characters and side characters

[neon-danger]

Does it ever bother you that you write so much but there are so few readers of us? You deserve so much more praise.

Y’all are gonna make my ego bigger than it already is

[opbackgrounds]

To be somewhat fair to OPLA, I don’t think the issues with the structural and story issues of the season can be entirely chalked up to “execs gonna exec.” A lot of it feels like it’s because the standard formula for live action television just feels fundamentally incompatible with the thing they were adapting. Live action tv’s comfort zone can be summed up as two people sitting in a room commenting on the plot, and then every 10-15 minutes the action (or “action” depending on the genre) happens. Which is a format that has made for some truly great, critically acclaimed television, but is fundamentally at odds with action-adventure/roadtrip format of One Piece. Between the inclusion of Garp and weird structural issues like characters randomly vanishing or plot points being immediately resolved/dropped, it feels like the live action adaptation is dragging its source material kicking and screaming into fitting that structure.

Season 1 was always going to be a little weird because they were going to have to make an overarching narrative where one did not initially exist in the manga. TV shows almost always utilize an A and a B plot story structure, so the marines were slotted into that B story arc role. This worked pretty good for Coby and Helmeppo, with the added bonus of them being able to adapt their cover story, but the Garp material was bad and the pacing of these scenes was also bad. However, I think it’s important to note that characters sitting around in an office set that can be reused for multiple episodes (or a set like Baratie that was already built) is cheaper than the island jumping the Straw Hats were doing. It was an efficient use of the budget for Garp to be the B plot, even if it mangled his character. This is and will continue to be something the live action will have to fight against for as long as it exists, so I would say get used to characters sitting around indoor sets talking. Otherwise an already ridiculously expensive series would just get exponentially more expensive.

TV shows also typically use mid season twists to help drive the narrative towards their second half, and as much as it pains me to say it, revealing Garp is Luffy’s grandpa early makes for a really good mid season twist. It recontextualizes everything that came before it and sets up a compelling drama for the episodes that come after. I’d have no problem with this, except, again, Garp was written really, really poorly.

The Alabasta saga has none of these problems. There is a natural marine B plot with Smoker and Tashigi that already exists in the manga with them spending a lot of time talking in offices (Crocodile also spends a lot of time hiding in an office so bonus points there, although if they are going to CGI some giant bananadiles that’d be expensive). There is an overarching narrative already written where one did not exist in the East Blue. And there is a compelling mid season twist in revealing Vivi is a princess. But by splitting the saga the live action is now going to have to come up with a narrative arc ending for the season where one does not exist in the manga, creating almost the opposite problem of season 1. Wapol as he is in the manga does not make for a compelling end of season villain like Arlong does, and I suspect that they’re going to turn Mr. 3 into that role instead just based on who they cast.

Now, while I think the live action did a good job capturing the Straw Hats, the blistering pace for season 1 meant that very few of the side characters that are so important to the manga got time to breathe, or really even exist (rip Gin), and slowing down the pace will help alleviate that flaw. The giants on Little Garden will have time to shine. Zoro vs 100 Baroque Works agents will have time to exist. The live action onlys will get it cry over a giant whale.

But dammit all, I want to have my cake and eat it too. Give me 10 episode seasons when the material calls for it, and give shorter sagas like Skypiea shorter seasons. Take the time to adapt the story that’s already there in the form that makes the most sense instead of Frankenstein’s Monstering one of the best selling comics of all time into the format a bunch of suits insist upon because of algorithm bullshit. Just let a good story be told well and the people will watch it, just as much as they watched season 1.

The sad thing is that season 1’s success proves to the suits with algorithms that 8 episodes is the way to go. If it had been less popular the solution would have been cancellation instead of fixing the pacing, and that’s why thinking too much about the state of modern TV depresses me.

[cre8inghavoc]

Can't help it...

Part 5

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

You drove around together for another fifteen minutes, the city lights becoming a blur as you got lost in the ride. Finally, he guided the bike to a stop at an outdoor parking garage, driving all the way to the roof. As you arrived, you noticed it was completely empty, the perfect quiet spot. But that wasn’t the reason he brought you here. As you dismounted the bike and looked out, you understood—he wanted to share with you the stunning panoramic view of the city, the skyline glittering like a sea of stars against the dark canvas of the night. It was a sight that took your breath away all over again.

You both took off your helmets, setting them down carefully on the bike before making your way to the ledge, where the roof extended just a bit, creating a safe spot to sit with the floor of the parking garage right beneath you. The cool night air brushed against your faces as you settled down, you sat side by side, legs dangling over the edge. With the city lights twinkling around you, it felt like the world had paused just for the two of you, creating a moment that was as serene as it was unforgettable.

Minutes turned into hours as you found yourself completely engrossed in conversation with Inumaki. The words flowed effortlessly between you, each exchange filled with laughter, deep insights, and a growing sense of genuine connection. The city lights below seemed to dance in time with your dialogue, making the night feel almost magical.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve never been to an amusement park?” Inumaki asked, his eyes wide with disbelief as he leaned a bit closer, clearly amused by your confession.

“Nope, never had the chance,” you replied with a casual shrug, a smile tugging at your lips. “My family wasn’t really into that sort of thing. We were more about quiet weekends at home.”

Inumaki shook his head in mock disappointment. “That’s a tragedy. You have to experience the thrill of a roller coaster at least once. The rush, the fear, the way your stomach drops—it’s unforgettable.”

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest at his enthusiasm. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough for all that. Maybe the carousel is more my speed.”

“Carousel?” he repeated, pretending to be horrified. “No way. We’re going all out. I’m dragging you onto the biggest, scariest ride in the park. You’ll thank me later, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “I’ll consider it. But only if you don’t laugh at me when I scream my head off.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Deal. But I can’t promise I won’t be laughing on the inside.”

The conversation shifted seamlessly from amusement parks to childhood memories.

“Did you have any pets growing up?” he asked, his tone softening.

“Yeah, we had a golden retriever named Max. He was the sweetest dog ever. Always there when I needed a cuddle, especially after a bad day,” you reminisced, the fondness clear in your voice. “What about you?”

Inumaki nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “We had a cat, Momo. She was the queen of the house. Independent, a bit sassy, but she’d curl up on my lap whenever I was upset. It’s like she just knew.”

You nodded, understanding the bond that pets could create. “It’s funny how they can sense when we need them the most, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really is,” he agreed, a thoughtful look crossing his face before he shifted the topic again. “So, what’s the wildest thing on your bucket list?”

You chuckled, slightly embarrassed to reveal it. “Honestly? I’ve always wanted to go skydiving. It’s terrifying, but I feel like it’d be the ultimate rush.”

His eyes lit up with surprise and admiration. “Skydiving? That’s intense! I wouldn’t have pegged you for an adrenaline junkie.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t call myself that. It’s just something I want to do once, you know? Prove to myself that I can face my fears.”

He nodded, clearly impressed. “I get that. It’s like a way of pushing your limits. I’m not sure I’d have the guts to jump out of a plane, though.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased. “You’re dragging me onto roller coasters, but you’re scared of skydiving?”

He chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fair point. Maybe we’ll both conquer our fears together.”

The conversation flowed easily as you talked about dreams for the future, random thoughts that popped into your minds, and even shared some embarrassing stories that had you both laughing until your sides hurt.

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” you said between laughs, recounting a particularly mortifying moment from high school. “But it’s one of those things you look back on and just have to laugh at.”

Inumaki was still laughing, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “That’s priceless. I had a similar moment in middle school when I tried to impress a girl by joining the school talent show. Let’s just say my magic trick didn’t go as planned.”

You gasped, eager to hear more. “What happened?”

“I accidentally revealed the trick’s secret in front of everyone,” he confessed, shaking his head with a smile. “The worst part? The girl I was trying to impress was in the front row. She never let me live it down.”

You both burst into laughter again, the shared stories only deepening the connection between you. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, caught up in the moment.

It wasn’t until you both instinctively glanced down at your phones that you realized how much time had passed. The soft glow of the screens revealed the time—midnight. Startled, you exchanged surprised looks.

“Midnight already?” you murmured, a bit incredulous.

Inumaki smiled softly, a hint of surprise in his voice too. “Guess time really does fly when you’re having fun. Feels like we just got here.”

You nodded in agreement, feeling a bit of disbelief at how quickly the night had flown by, but also a warm contentment in the connection you had shared.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I brought us some chocolate,” you exclaimed, suddenly remembering the treats you had stashed in your bag. You quickly reached in and pulled them out, a grin spreading across your face. “My friends got it for me the other day and insisted I try them. I thought we could maybe try them together.”

Inumaki’s eyes lit up with curiosity, his usual playful demeanor softened by the prospect of sharing something simple but special with you. “Sure, why not?” he replied with a warm smile.

You handed him a piece of chocolate, and he accepted it with a nod of thanks. There was a brief pause as he looked at the treat in his hand, then, with a swift and practiced motion, he lifted his mask just enough to allow the chocolate to pass through, keeping his mouth hidden from view. It was such a small, casual gesture, but something about it felt almost intimate, as if this moment of sharing something sweet had added another layer to the connection you were building.

You popped a piece of chocolate into your own mouth, savoring the rich, velvety taste as it melted on your tongue. The two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a moment, simply enjoying the treat and each other’s company. The night, with its twinkling city lights and cool breeze, felt even more perfect now, with the simple pleasure of sharing something sweet together.

“This is really good,” Inumaki commented, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. “Your friends have good taste.”

“Yeah, they do,” you replied with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours briefly before glancing back out at the city skyline. “It’s the little things like this that make moments like these even better, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t agree more. “Definitely. It’s like…everything just falls into place, you know? The view, the company, the chocolate—it all just fits.”

Inumaki chuckled softly, his gaze still fixed on the city below. “Yeah, it really does.”

“Hey, let’s get going. It’s a school day tomorrow, and we don’t want to be tired,” he says with a laugh, standing up and extending his hand to you.

You giggle softly and take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he helps you to your feet. The butterflies that had settled in your stomach earlier suddenly come alive again as he walks you back to his bike, his hand never leaving yours. It’s such a simple thing, but the way he holds on, the way he doesn’t let go, sends a wave of warmth through you.

When you reach the bike, he grabs your helmet and carefully places it over your head. He’s done this before, and each time, it makes you lose your composure a little more. It feels so intimate, even though it really isn’t, but the way he does it makes you feel weak in the best way possible. It’s a small gesture, sure, but it carries so much weight, making your heart race every time.

After securing your helmet, he puts on his own and then gets on the bike, turning back to you with that familiar, comforting smile. As always, he helps you onto the bike, his hands steadying you as you take your seat behind him. Once you’re settled, you wrap your arms around his waist, and with a gentle rev of the engine, you’re off, the city lights fading behind you as you head back.

Damn… he looked so fucking good earlier… The thought hit you out of nowhere as you replayed the image of him leaning back on his motorcycle, his relaxed posture accentuating his physique in the most distracting way. God, his physique looks ughhhhh… The way the light had played off him, casting shadows that made him seem even more mysterious—and that’s kind of… hot…

Wait, what the fuck am I thinking?

As quickly as the thoughts arose, you shook your head, mentally chastising yourself for letting your mind wander in that direction. What the hell is going on with me? You tried to push the thoughts away, but they lingered stubbornly, leaving you feeling both flustered and confused. You couldn’t quite put a finger on why these feelings were surfacing now, but one thing was clear—you were in deeper than you had realized.

And just as you were wrestling with those thoughts, trying to push them out of your mind, Inumaki moved his hand back onto your leg. The touch was gentle at first, but then he slowly slid his hand up your thigh, sending a shiver through your entire body. He continued down to your knee and then further down to your ankle, his touch almost hypnotic.

The simple act made your heart race even faster, and suddenly, the thoughts you were trying so hard to suppress came rushing back with even more intensity. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your mind spinning with thoughts you wouldn’t normally entertain—thoughts that were wildly out of character for you.

What is happening to me? you wondered, feeling the tension in your body build. His touch was driving you crazy, making it hard to focus on anything but the way his hand felt as it moved up and down your leg. You were more flustered than ever, your mind racing with ideas and desires you never thought you’d have. It was overwhelming, and you had no idea how to handle the sudden rush of feelings that he had unintentionally stirred within you.

Inumaki pulls into your neighborhood, the familiar surroundings slowly grounding you from the whirlwind of emotions. He stops in front of your place, and you hop off the back of his bike, taking your helmet off as you face him. “Thank you, Toge… today was really fun,” you say, feeling a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.

He quickly takes his helmet off and looks into your eyes, concern flickering in his expression. He gently places a hand on your cheek, lifting your head slightly to meet his gaze. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft but serious.

You blink, a bit confused. “Yeah, of course I am… what do you mean?” you respond.

“Your eyes… they’re super red and glossy,” he points out, his brow furrowed with concern.

You laugh, realizing what he’s talking about. “So are yours,” you retort, playfully pointing at him.

He chuckles lightly, but his expression remains thoughtful. “I knew it. I started feeling really weird while riding.”

You nod slightly, feeling a bit relieved to hear it wasn’t just you. “Oh, me too. I started thinking… weird things…”

Inumaki raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Oh yeah? What were you thinking about?”

Caught off guard, you stammer, “Oh… uh… NOTHING!” Your face turns bright red again as you quickly look away, embarrassed by your own thoughts.

He chuckles at your flustered reaction, but his tone shifts back to curiosity as he asks, “Okay… Y/N?”

“Mhm?” you hum, glancing back at him.

“What’s the chocolate brand you gave us?” he asks, his tone now serious.

You think for a moment, trying to recall. “Uhh, I don’t remember…? I think it started with a K… Kiva or something like that? Never heard of it, but it’s super good,” you say happily, oblivious to the significance.

Inumaki just stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “What…?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he says, his tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t quite place.

“Yeah?” you reply, still not understanding where this is going.

“That’s weed chocolate,” he finally says, deadpan.

“Wheat? Oh, are you allergic to wheat?” you ask, genuinely concerned.

He bursts out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, stupid, not wheat. I mean, like, edible.”

“Well… yeah, it is edible. We literally ate it,” you say, confusion evident in your voice.

He just laughs harder, clutching his stomach. “God, you’re so innocent. No, Y/N. It’s cannabis chocolate. We’re high out of our minds.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. “Whaaaaaaaaaaaa?” you exclaim, completely floored by the revelation.

Inumaki just grins at your reaction, clearly enjoying the moment. “Yeah… welcome to the world of edibles,” he says, still laughing as you try to process what just happened.

“Wait, but how—what—” you stammer, still trying to wrap your head around the situation.

Inumaki chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Clearly, your friends bought it for you and wanted you to try it out.”

“Oh god, I’m so stupid,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“This is hilarious, but I’m gonna head home. It’s getting pretty late.”

“Wait, what?! Are you crazy? I’m not letting you drive home high out of your mind, especially on a motorcycle,” you say, your voice rising in concern.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve done it before, and I was fine,” he replies casually, as if it’s no big deal.

You stare at him in disbelief, your worry quickly turning to frustration. “First of all, don’t tell me that because I’ll literally lose my mind! Second, why the hell were you stupid enough to do that? Do you have a death wish? And third, no way under any circumstance am I letting you ride high right now. Especially not because of me. So, get your ass into my apartment.”

Inumaki blinks, taken aback by your sudden fierceness. He opens his mouth to argue but quickly realizes there’s no point. Your tone leaves no room for negotiation, and honestly, he can’t help but admire how serious you’re taking this.

“Alright, alright,” he concedes, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll stay. But just for the record, you’re pretty scary when you’re mad.”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Good. Now come on, let’s get inside before we both do something else stupid.”

As you turn to head inside, Inumaki lingers for a moment, watching you with a slight smirk. He then whispers under his breath, “And pretty hot too.”

You catch the murmur of his voice and glance back at him, puzzled. “Huh? What was that?”

He straightens up quickly, his expression shifting to one of feigned innocence. “Nothing! Lead the way!” he replies, a bit too quickly, trying to hide the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

You narrow your eyes at him for a second, suspicious, but eventually shrug it off and continue leading him into the house, completely unaware of the quiet compliment that just slipped out.

You showed Inumaki around your apartment, pointing out the bathroom, the kitchen, and anything else he might need during his stay. As you finished the tour, he smiled warmly at you. “Your apartment is really cute. I love how the aesthetic matches your vibe,” he said, his compliment making you blush slightly.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit flustered by the praise.

He glanced around the living room before asking, “Quick question… where exactly am I going to sleep?”

You looked around, realizing that your couch was way too small for Inumaki to sleep on comfortably. Your eyes darted to your bedroom behind him, and you felt a sudden wave of nervousness. “I… haven’t thought that far…” you admitted.

Inumaki shrugged casually. “I could still go home, you know,” he suggested, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice.

Before he could finish the thought, you quickly grabbed his hand and led him toward your bedroom. “Don’t be stupid, Toge, you’re sleeping with me tonight.”

Inumaki’s eyes widened, he smirked a bit as his face turning slightly red as he processed what you just said. You paused, suddenly realizing the implication of your words, and quickly let go of his hand. “UH… THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT… I mean, like, sleep in the same bed as me… wait, that still doesn’t sound better!”

You started to panic, fumbling over your words, but before you could continue, Inumaki smirked and placed his thumb over your lips and his hand was on your chin to gently silence you. “Shhh, I get it, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. He chuckled lightly. “We’re sharing the bed, got it.”

He said it so casually, but the ease in his tone only made your face turn an even deeper shade of red. The fact that he noticed your intense blushing didn’t help either; his amused expression made it clear that he found your flustered state endearing.

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Okay, yeah… sharing the bed,” you mumbled, trying to regain some composure.

Inumaki just smiled, the playful glint in his eyes never fading. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

His reassurance was meant to calm you, but it only made the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more.

Inumaki’s reassuring words lingered in the air as you both stood there, the tension between you palpable. You nodded again, trying to shake off the nervous energy that had settled over you. “Right… okay, so, um… let me just grab some extra blankets,” you said, quickly turning away to busy yourself with finding something to do, anything to distract from the situation.

As you rummaged through your closet for blankets, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Inumaki. He seemed completely at ease, which only added to your internal turmoil. How could he be so calm when you felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest?

When you finally managed to find a spare blanket, you turned back to him, forcing a smile. “Here, just in case you get cold.”

He took the blanket from you, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Thanks,” he said with a gentle smile, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than usual.

You cleared your throat, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again. “So, um, I’ll just… I guess I’ll change in the bathroom,” you mumbled, grabbing your pajamas and making a quick exit before you could embarrass yourself further.

Once inside the bathroom, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Get it together, you told yourself. It’s just one night. You can handle this.

You changed into your pajamas, splashed some water on your face, and gave yourself one last pep talk before heading back out. When you returned to the bedroom, Inumaki was already sitting on the edge of the bed, his back turned to you as he adjusted the pillows.

He glanced over his shoulder as you entered, offering you a smile that made your stomach flip. “All set?”

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you crossed the room to join him.

You climbed into bed, feeling a bit awkward as you settled under the covers. The bed was big enough to give you both some space, but the reality of sharing it with Inumaki made the situation feel a lot more intimate than you’d anticipated.

Inumaki slid under the blankets beside you, his movements slow and careful, as if he were mindful of your nerves. He turned to face you, his expression soft and reassuring. “Comfortable?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if “comfortable” was the right word for how you felt. “Yeah, I’m good.”

There was a brief silence as you both adjusted to the situation, and then Inumaki spoke up, his voice low and gentle. “You know, you don’t have to be so nervous. It’s just me.”

His words were meant to be comforting, but they only made your heart race faster. “I’m not nervous,” you lied, though it was clear from your voice that you were anything but calm.

Inumaki chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Okay, maybe a little nervous.”

You laughed despite yourself, the sound easing some of the tension. “Fine, maybe a little.”

He smiled, the warmth in his gaze making you feel a bit more at ease. “Well, don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything weird. We’ll just sleep, and tomorrow we can laugh about how awkward this was.”

You nodded, appreciating his effort to lighten the mood. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Toge.”

He gave you a reassuring nod before rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. You followed suit, lying flat on your back with your hands resting on your stomach, trying to calm the flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sound in the room being the soft rustling of the sheets and your synchronized breathing. The initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a quiet sense of comfort in just being near him.

Finally, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt Inumaki’s hand brush against yours under the covers. It was a light, almost accidental touch, but it sent a small shockwave through your entire body.

You glanced over at him, but his eyes were closed, his breathing steady and calm. It could have been an innocent mistake, but the thought that it might not have been left you with a small, secret smile.

As you lay there in the soft glow of the night, the warmth of the moment surrounding you, your gaze drifted to Inumaki’s face, your eyes lingering on the mask he always wore over his mouth. It had become such a familiar part of him, something you almost never questioned, but in this relaxed, almost dreamlike state, your curiosity got the better of you.

“Toge,” you began softly, your voice a little hesitant, “can I ask you something?”

He turned his head to look at you, his expression calm and open. “Of course.”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to phrase your question. “Why do you always wear that mask? I’ve never seen you without it… not even when we’re alone like this.”

Inumaki hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Finally, he sighed softly and replied, “It’s not really a big deal… just something I’ve gotten used to. I was born with a mark next to my lips—it’s kind of like a birthmark, but it’s more noticeable. When I was a kid, people used to make fun of me for it. They’d call me names, say it looked weird, stuff like that. So, I started wearing the mask to cover it up.”

Your heart ached a little at his words, the idea of him being teased for something so personal tugging at your emotions. “That’s awful, Toge. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal, but you could see the lingering hurt in his eyes. “It’s fine. I got used to it, and now it just feels like a part of me, you know?”

You reached out, your fingers gently brushing against his arm, your touch soft and reassuring. “But it doesn’t have to be,” you said quietly. “Can I… can I see it? The mark?”

Inumaki hesitated again, his gaze searching yours for a moment before he slowly nodded. “Yeah… okay.”

With gentle hands, you reached up and carefully pulled down his mask, revealing the lower half of his face. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes fell on the mark he had mentioned—a unique, almost intricate pattern beside his lips, dark and distinct against his skin. It wasn’t what you expected, but rather than seeing it as something to hide, you found it beautiful, like a hidden piece of him that only a few were allowed to see.

Without thinking, you reached out and lightly traced the pattern with your fingertips, your touch feather-light as you followed the lines. Inumaki tensed for a moment, his breath hitching at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. “I love it. It’s so unique, like a part of you that makes you who you are.”

He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise and something else—something softer, more vulnerable. “You really think so?”

You nodded, a gentle smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, I do. You don’t need to hide it, Toge. It’s a part of you, and it’s special.”

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the weight of the moment settling over you both. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the years of insecurity battling with the acceptance and warmth he saw in yours.

Finally, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Thank you, Y/N. No one’s ever said that to me before.”

You smiled back, feeling a deep connection forming between you. “Well, I’m glad I could be the first.”

With a small, contented sigh, Inumaki reached up and placed his hand over yours, still resting on his cheek. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice light with affection, “but I think you are too.”

Your heart raced as you realized just how close you were to Inumaki. The sudden awareness of the proximity made you lean back slightly, a wave of self-consciousness washing over you. “Oh my god, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to get up in your space like that,” you blurted out, your words tumbling over each other in your haste to apologize.

Before you could retreat any further, Inumaki’s hand gently cupped your face, his touch warm and steady. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying a reassuring tone that sent shivers down your spine.

“I think it’s just the weed taking over me—” you started to explain, trying to brush off your actions as a side effect of the high.

But he shook his head, leaning in just a little closer, his gaze locking onto yours. “No,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “High actions are sober thoughts, you know? You just get the confidence to do things you wouldn’t normally do if it weren’t for your anxiety.”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you with a truth you couldn’t ignore. Your pulse quickened, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you got even more flustered. “You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he added with a soft smile, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

His words only made your heart race faster, your mind struggling to process the mix of emotions flooding through you. The closeness, the warmth of his hand on your face, the way his eyes seemed to see right through you—it was all too much, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Inumaki’s smile widened slightly, his expression soft and understanding. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Just be here, in this moment. That’s enough.”

For a few heartbeats, neither of you moved, the silence filled only by the sound of your breaths mingling in the small space between you. Then, slowly, he leaned in even closer, his eyes never leaving yours, as if asking for permission without words.

Inumaki’s eyes flickered with something intense yet tender, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Every second stretched out, the moment hanging delicately between what was and what could be.

But just as he began to lean in, Inumaki hesitated. His gaze lingered on your lips for a moment longer before he pulled back slightly, his expression softening into something more thoughtful.

“We should sleep now,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was telling you. “Gotta wake up early for school.”

The sudden shift in the atmosphere left you a little breathless, but you understood the unspoken reasons behind his words. He was giving you both space, not wanting to rush into something so significant, especially when the lines between your feelings and the effects of the weed were still blurred.

You nodded, offering him a small, appreciative smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Inumaki returned your smile, his hand still resting lightly on your cheek for a moment before he let it fall away. With that, he turned onto his back, settling into the bed beside you. The closeness was still there, the connection undeniable. You both lay there in the quiet, the earlier tension easing into a comfortable silence.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Inumaki whispered, his voice soft in the stillness of the room.

“Goodnight, Toge,” you replied, a gentle smile tugging at your lips as you closed your eyes.

The room fell into a peaceful silence, the warmth of the shared moment lingering as you both drifted off to sleep, content in the comfort of each other’s presence.

By the time the first light of dawn began to peek through the curtains, your bodies had naturally gravitated toward each other. Your head rested near his shoulder, and one of his arms had unconsciously draped over your waist, as if protecting you even in sleep. The warmth of his presence seeped into your dreams, creating a sense of safety and peace that neither of you could fully comprehend but both embraced nonetheless.

As the first light of morning filtered softly through the curtains, you slowly began to stir from sleep. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the gentle brightness, and as you came to full awareness, you felt the warmth of something—or rather, someone—beside you.

At the same moment, Inumaki shifted, his own eyes fluttering open. The first thing he noticed was how close you were, your head resting near his shoulder, your breaths soft and even against his skin. His arm was draped over your waist, a position that felt so natural and comforting that it took a moment for the realization to fully register.

You both froze, wide-eyed, as the reality of the situation sank in. Your faces were mere inches apart, your bodies comfortably nestled against each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Inumaki’s eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something softer passing between you. For a moment, neither of you said anything, just taking in the closeness, the way your bodies had unconsciously found their way to each other in the night.

“Uh… good morning,” you finally whispered, your voice a little shaky with the mix of emotions swirling inside you.

“Good morning,” Inumaki replied, his voice equally soft. He didn’t move his arm right away, as if he was just as caught off guard by how right it felt to be close to you.

You both shared a small, nervous laugh, the sound breaking the tension in the air.

“Uh… well, that was… cozy,” you said, your cheeks flushed as you tried to break the tension with a small laugh.

Inumaki scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, really cozy,” he agreed, his voice holding a hint of amusement. There was a glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t entirely unhappy about waking up that way. In fact, part of him wanted to stay close, to let the morning laziness keep you wrapped up together just a little longer.

“So, uh, I guess we should probably… get ready for school,” you finally suggested, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Yeah… school,” Inumaki echoed, though he made no move to get up. He seemed almost reluctant to break the moment, as if he was considering staying right where he was, enjoying the closeness a little longer.

You both sat there in that awkward-but-sweet limbo, neither of you really wanting to be the first to get up. Finally, Inumaki let out a small, resigned sigh, breaking the spell. “Alright, I guess we should… you know… start the day.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, though you felt a similar reluctance to move. You both stood up, the atmosphere still tinged with the remnants of the unexpected intimacy. You glanced at each other, exchanging shy, almost guilty smiles, as if you both knew you had just crossed a line but weren’t quite ready to address it yet.

Inumaki reached for his mask on the nightstand, but before he put it on, he paused and looked at you. “Hey… last night was… nice. I mean, not just the sleeping part, but… you know, everything.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth in your chest return. “Yeah, it really was. And, um… about this morning… I didn’t mind it. Like, at all.”

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Good to know,” he said, clearly pleased. He hesitated for a moment, then added, “Maybe we can… do it again sometime. Not the weird part, just… hanging out together.... you know?”

You blushed, but nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Taglist <3

@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001

[fanfictionalraven]

Piece by Piece Pt. 10

Title: Piece By Piece Pt. 10

Summary: The aftermath of being taken by the angels.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, Original Character

Word Count: 2,937

Warnings: Vomitting, angst

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 9 here.

Dean continues to drive through the day, stopping for food and gas. He tells Sam what Zachariah had told him and why they’d created the alternate reality. Later in the afternoon, M.K. falls asleep spread across the front seat between yourself and Dean. Her head is resting on his leg and her legs on yours. Dean’s fingers are running through her curls gently as you run a hand over her calf.

All of a sudden, you feel the nausea start up out of nowhere and groan, laying your head back against the seat. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to fight back the sick feeling. The car was currently flying down a back road in the middle of nowhere, no bathrooms in sight.

“Y/N? You okay?” Dean asks, glancing over at you. You shake your head slowly.

“Pull over,” you tell him, eyes still closed. Your main goal right now was to not throw up all over his car. You can feel the car steadily slow down and you carefully push M.K.’s legs off of your own.

Before the car even comes to a complete stop, you clamber out the door. You manage to get a few feet away before your lunch decides to make its reappearance. You hit your knees, bracing yourself against the ground. Two hands are on you a second later, one holding your hair and the other rubbing soothing circles into your back.

Once your stomach is empty, you sit up. Dean hands you a rag and a bottle of water he’d found in the car and you thank him before wiping at your mouth. You unscrew the lid on the bottle and drink about half of it before sighing. Your eyes meet Dean’s and you find his full of that same concern he’d always had for you.

“Are you really pregnant?” He asks. You nod, watching his face. “Did you know before?”

“I’m three months now. I’ve known for about two,” you confess, your voice raw from your previous heaving. He frowns and shakes his head quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. You sigh and run the rag across your sweat-damp forehead.

“You haven’t been home since Valentine’s Day, Dean. And I wasn’t going to tell you over the phone,” you tell him. His face falls as the realization hits.

“Valentine’s Day. That’s what you were going to tell me,” he says. You nod and he hangs his head with a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Sorry?” You ask, panic rising up in your chest. He looks back at you and his eyes widen.

“No!! Not – not sorry about the baby. I could never – I mean, it’s really terrible timing but – that would be like regretting M.K. or being with you and – there’s no way I could ever do that,” he says, reaching out and brushing his fingers against your cheek. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately. Things have been crazy and when Cas showed up at the house like that – I thought staying away from you would keep you safer. I guess I was wrong.”

“Well it wasn’t exactly like we spent the last three weeks being tortured,” you start. “Penthouse apartment. Fancy private school.”

“Pregnant yoga and no caffeine?” He asks, trying not to laugh. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Yea, that was the torture,” you say. “And don’t go getting any wild ideas.” He laughs now and helps you to your feet.

“So was the nausea this bad with M.K.?” He asks. You shake your head as the two of you make your way back to the car.

“I actually got lucky with M.K. I was never sick. This time around though,” you trail off and sigh. Dean nods and presses a kiss to your temple before opening the passenger side door for you.

“Well it’s your turn to get some rest,” he says. You look into the car and see that M.K. is now laid out across the backseat, curled into Sam’s side. You smile and slide in, Dean closing the door behind you. He comes around and gets back in. “C’mon,” he says, patting the seat between you. You lay across the front seat, your head coming to rest on his leg. He lays his arm across your side. You quickly drift off to sleep as his fingers brush lightly against your stomach.

You wake up sometime later, groggy and confused. You don’t remember moving from the car to a bed yet here you were on a comfortable mattress with a blanket draped over you. Sitting up slowly, you look around. It was an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. Willing yourself to remain calm, you push yourself up from the bed.

The cool air meets your legs and you look down to find them bare. You’re only wearing a grey t-shirt that you immediately recognized as one of Dean’s. A pair of jeans are sitting folded on the dresser across the room. They look brand new you realize as you pull them on quickly. A perfect fit. You sigh, thankful for the familiar denim after three weeks of wearing nothing but dresses and skirts.

Opening the door, you’re greeted by a familiar scent. The smell of fresh cooked bacon wafts up the staircase to you. You can hear M.K. giggling as you slowly make your way down to the rest of the strange house. Following the sound and scent, you find the kitchen. An older man in a vest and baseball cap is standing over the stove, frying up the bacon. M.K. is seated at the table behind him, a wide grin spread across her face.

“Momma!! You’re awake!!” She exclaims. The man looks at you and smiles warmly. “Look!! Grandpa Bobby is real!!” Bobby. Of course. The man who was like a father to Dean and Sam. Any panic you had been feeling quickly subsides. You knew this was a man you could trust even if you’d never actually met him.

“I don’t know why she’s calling me that,” Bobby mumbles, a blush creeping into his cheeks. He turns, setting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her. You hear a door open and a moment later Dean comes into the room, wiping grease from his hands.

“Hey!! Morning, Gorgeous,” he says, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “How you feeling?” He asks. You shrug your shoulders slightly.

“Confused. Hungry,” you tell him. He laughs and pulls you to a chair at the table. You sit down and Bobby sets a plate in front of you as well. “Thank you.” He smiles and nods. Dean’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Well since your actually conscious now,” Dean says, winking down at you. “This is Bobby. Bobby, this is Y/N my…” He stops and you look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Ummm.”

“Girlfriend, Dean. She’s your girlfriend,” Sam says from the adjacent room. You look over and find him sitting at a desk, several books open in front of him. M.K. giggles as she takes a bite of bacon.

“Just girlfriend?” Bobby asks. You look at him quickly and he smiles, glancing at your left hand. Your eyes widen and shoot to the diamond ring and silver band still on your finger.

“You changed my clothes but didn’t take these off?” You ask, looking up at Dean. He rubs the back of his neck and stammers.

“Well — Ummm — I just thought — you might like to keep them,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“If this is a proposal it isn’t a very good one,” you tell him. His eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly.

“No!! I’m not — I mean, not that I wouldn’t — but this isn’t —,” he stops. Sam starts to snigger and Dean shoots a glare at him. You smile and reach over, taking Dean’s hand.

“Calm down. I’m kidding,” you tell him. He smiles now and squeezes your hand.

“Dean,” Sam says, his voice shifting from its early teasing tone. You all look over and find Cas standing in the middle of the room. Dean drops your hand and immediately moves to stand in front of you. Bobby makes his way around the table, shielding M.K.

“The hell do you want? You swore you’d keep them out of this,” Dean says, pointing an accusatory finger at Cas. The angel furrows his brow and shakes his head.

“I did not know of Zachariah’s plan. If I had, I would have warned you. I do not wish harm on any of you. Especially Y/N, Mary Katherine, or your unborn child,” he says. Dean’s hands clench at his sides.

“What do you want, Cas?” He asks.

“I came to apologize to all of you,” he says, glancing at you as well. Dean crosses his arms and shakes his head. “I didn’t know, Dean. I swear. I am sorry.” The room is quiet as you glance at each of the men. M.K. stands from her chair and takes a step around Bobby.

“I forgive you,” she says, starting towards him. Bobby’s hand shoots out, landing on her shoulder. She shrugs him off and takes a few more steps.

“Mary Katherine,” you call to her quickly. She stops dead in her tracks. You very rarely ever use her full name like that and it always gets her attention. But she isn’t looking at you now with the pitiful look she always does when she’s in trouble. She’s almost surprised.

“You always say when someone apologizes and they really mean it that we have to be the bigger person and forgive them even if we don’t want to,” she says. You stare at her as she continues towards Cas. He looks down at her, curiously. “Do you really mean it?”

“I — I do. I’m sorry, Mary Katherine,” he says. She smiles and wraps her arms around his legs.

“M.K. I’m only Mary Katherine when I’m in trouble,” she tells him. You all stare in disbelief as a small smile spreads across the angel’s face. He reaches down and pats her head awkwardly before she lets him go and returns to her breakfast. Dean sighs and shakes his head.

“They’re staying here for now with Bobby. If anything happens to them again, Cas, I swear there isn’t a force on this earth that will stop me from killing every last one of you,” he tells him. Cas nods once then disappears. You look down at your plate. There’s a tense silence before Dean breaks it with a chuckle. “Why’d you have to go and raise her to be such a good person?” Dean asks, looking back at you.

“What do you mean we’re staying here with Bobby?” You ask, ignoring his question as you look up at him. He sighs, as though he’d been dreading this conversation, then kneels down next to you.

“I gotta keep you two — you three safe,” he says, his hand reaching towards your stomach. You swat at his hand quickly and he arches an eyebrow at you.

“For how long?” You ask. He shrugs.

“However long it takes,” he says. You stare at him and shake your head slightly.

“We can’t just stay here, Dean. We’ve got lives to get back to. Lives we’ve already missed three weeks of. I may not even have a job to go back to but she has to go back to school,” you tell him.

“I can’t leave you unprotected. Bobby can keep you safe while I’m out trying to stop all this,” he says, rising to his feet. You frown and look up at him.

“No offense to Bobby but Cas just came and went like it was nothing. You really think an army of angels couldn’t do the same if they wanted us bad enough?” You ask, standing from your chair. Dean crosses his arms over his chest, determined. You glance over at M.K. to find she’s watching you both closely.

Sighing, you leave the kitchen and quickly make your way back up the stairs to the bedroom you’d been in earlier. You close the door and lean against it for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. Your phone is sitting on the table next to the bed. You make your way across the room and grab it, quickly finding Lily’s name in your contacts. It rings twice before your best friend’s voice comes over the line.

“Hey!! Didn’t expect to hear from you. How’s the vacation?” She asks. You stare at the wall in front of you.

“Va – vacation?” You ask, your voice trembling. You hear Lily laugh on the other end.

“Yea? Dean whisked you two away suddenly for a family vacation. You left me a voicemail saying you were gonna be gone for a while,” she says. You fall onto the edge of the bed, your hand over your mouth. “Y/N? You okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m – ummm – just checking in,” you tell her, fighting back tears. After a brief conversation, you set the phone aside again. Laying back on the bed, you run your hands over your face. You hear someone walking up to the door and it opens then closes again. A second later, the bed dips beside you. “I called Lily. Everyone thinks we’re on vacation apparently.” You look over at Dean and he nods slightly. “But we have to get back Dean. She has to get back to school.”

“Your lives are more important, Y/N,” he says. You sigh and sit up.

“The only difference in us staying here is that Bobby is in danger. And I am not going to be the reason he gets killed. I’m not,” you tell him. “We’re going home.”

“Well I don’t know how you’re getting there cause I’m not taking you,” he says. You look at him quickly.

“That’s kidnapping, Dean,” you say. He rolls his eyes, rising from the bed. “Fine. I’ll ask Sam or Bobby to do it.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” he says. You stare at him-, your anger building quickly.

“Then we’ll take the bus because we are not staying,” you tell him defiantly. He shakes his head as he watches you.

“I can’t let you leave,” he says. “That’s my daughter and you’re carrying my baby and you’re my –.” He stops short and you look back at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Your what, Dean? You can’t even say it!! That’s what the real torture was, these past three weeks. Hearing you say that you love me knowing I’ll never hear it again now!! You don’t even tell M.K. that you love her!!” You snap at him. “So don’t try and give me some crap about how you want to keep us safe because you care about us or we’re your family. You want to keep us safe to keep your conscious clear. So, no thank you. We don’t need your protection. We’re leaving.” You turn for the door quickly.

“And the baby?” Dean asks, his voice unnaturally calm. You freeze, your hand on the handle.

“I raised M.K. for 10 years without you. What’s another one?” You ask, your words biting. You pull the door open and march down the stairs. Three pairs of eyes land on you as you step into the kitchen, Sam having joined the other two now. “Would you be willing to take us to the closest bus stop, Sam?” He frowns and looks down at the table. You nod and turn to the other man. “Bobby, please?” He sighs and nods, rising from the table. “M.K. tell Uncle Sam bye. We’re leaving.”

“But Momma,” she starts.

“Mary Katherine,” you snap. She hangs her head and jumps down from the chair. She slowly walks over to Sam and he wraps her up in a tight hug.

“Bye Uncle Sam,” she tells him quietly. He kisses her forehead then lets her go.

“Bye M.K.,” he says. You put your hand on her back, guiding her to the door as Bobby picks up the keys to his truck.

“What about Daddy?” She asks, looking up at you. There’s a sadness in her eyes as though she knows what’s happening.

“I’m right here, Baby girl,” he says. You turn and find Dean standing on the steps about halfway down. She runs up to him and he picks her up in his arms. “Listen to your mom, kid.”

“Aren’t you coming home too?” She asks, her voice thick with tears. You frown and avert your eyes quickly. Dean kisses her hair and sets her down.

“Be good,” he says, avoiding her question. She comes back down the stairs, dejected, and you take her hand. You glance up at Dean and find him staring at the floor. Bobby opens the door and you pull M.K. from the house quickly.

Dean squeezes his eyes closed when the door closes then sits down on the step beneath him. Sam comes into front hall and leans against the door frame, crossing his arms. Dean runs his hands over his face and lets out a sigh.

“That was a stupid plan,” Sam says. Dean shrugs slightly, looking back at his brother.

“Worked didn’t it?” He asks. Sam shakes his head in disbelief.

“How’d you know she’d leave?” He asks. Dean smiles a little and looks at his hands.

“I love her. You think I don’t know what would piss her off enough to make her leave me?” He asks. Sam shakes his head again and goes back into Bobby’s study, leaving Dean sitting on the steps, staring at the silver band that was still on his left hand.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 11 here.

[treyisms]

beauty sleep

trey parker x gn!reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

cw: really sappy, lack of sleep

- you’re falling asleep in your shared bed, or trying to, at least

- it’s 2:30 am and there’s still no sign of trey & you’ve been tossing and turning from having to sleep without his warmth and open mouth snores (as far as he knows, it’s annoying. but to you… nothing could be more endearing)

- that’s not out of the ordinary though, trey has a horrible habit of falling asleep at the office after a grueling 18 hour process to create the newest south park episode

- usually on nights like these, you stay up staring at the ceiling and thinking about him. hoping he’s resting his head in his hand at least, but a part of your belly gnaws at you because you know your boyfriend would never grant himself the gift of rest until the show was perfected

- the house phone starts ringing, and you immediately sit up in bed with a smile, already knowing it was him

- “hey baby! how are you?” and there’s a long, exhausted sigh before he answers :(

- “i’m okay, can you… can you do me a favor honey? i know it’s late..” and you can almost hear the way he drags his hand across his face and rubs at his eyes to wake himself up

- “anything sweetheart, what is it? you okay?” and there’s a slight little hitch in his breath on the other end of the phone and you can tell he’s getting teary :(

- “can you just… can you come sit with me? i’m so tired and everyone went home, i just.. i don’t want to be alone”

- and that is VERY open and vulnerable for trey, and if this wasn’t such a tender moment you would’ve commended him

- you agree and tell him you’re going to drive over now, still in your sweet lil pajamas he bought for you this christmas season, basically flying down the backroads to get to the studio

- once you get inside, you see that all the rooms are darkened, except for one… his big corner office that seems even lonelier than usual

- cracking the door open, you are greeted with the sight of your boyfriend hunched over in his wooden chair, fingers woven through his shaggy hair and his flannel pajama pant clad legs bouncing in nervousness as he looks up at you with wide eyes

- the tenderness and comfort that settles in his eyes when he sees you <333

- “oh, you’re here” “you needed me” “i always do” :’)

- so you spend the next hour cleaning around his office, readying him to go home but respecting his creative process… even if it is detrimental to his beauty sleep

- you sit to his right on the floor, piecing together some of the paper cutouts of the characters and formatting them for the opening scene trey has listed in the script— anything to ease his mind

- he sits, still typing, but turns to look down at you with a soft smile & red eyes. he brings his strong hand down to your hair, pushing it away from your eyes, and getting lost in you for the moment.

- as his hand rests on the side of your head he pulls you in to kiss your forehead, before letting you rest your head on his thigh and stroking your hair

- “only three more pages beautiful, i promise. you can sleep if you want, okay?”

- your eyes start to flutter as you succumb to sleep, yet you feel him staring down at you & you open your eyes to peer up at him

- even exhausted, and even with the food&drink stains on his sweatshirt, his face is the kindest and warmest you’ve ever seen

- “trey?” “hm?” “what’re you thinkin’ about?” “just thinking about you, that’s all”

- he’s still lightly scratching at your hair, lulling you to sleep as you lay your head back on his thigh, falling asleep to the light tapping of his fingers against the keyboard

- it’s safe to say the next morning that matt walks in to find you two curled up & sleeping on the floor of trey’s office (where trey definitely put his sweatshirt over you to keep you warm)

- sidenote trey definitely pulls your back to his chest when he sleeps, his hand balled into a fist as he holds you tightly but gently… always tightly but gently <3

[lovelyrocker]

Poop Girl pt. 9

RPF

Warnings: Pining, Flirting, Language, Drinking, Pining

Characters: Timothee Chalamet, Reader

Pairings: Timothee x Reader

Word Count: 1379

She looked in the mirror, going over her reflection again. She’d changed several times already, trying to decide what to wear. He said nice casual but his nice casual and her nice casual could be two different times of nice casual.

Deciding on a simple black cocktail dress that fell at her knees, she matched it with a set of black shoes and was set. Timothee showed up at her apartment at exactly 8pm just as he said he would. “Well, damn!” She smirked seeing his dark blue button down and black slacks. “You clean up good.”

“Not so bad yourself.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She said, taking a breath. “So, where are we going?” 

Timothee opens the door to his car with a smirk. “Let’s just say I did my research.” He tells her as he shuts the door, going around, climbing into his side of the car. 

“Research?” She asks. “What kind of research?”

“You’ll see.” He winks.

They make playful small talk as they drive across the city and come to a stop in front of a warehouse. She looks over at Timothee with a raised brow skeptical of what was going on. He puts that car in park and says nothing. He goes over to her side of the car and opens the door, holding out a hand. She places her hand in his and is led to the door. 

He opens the door with a key and pushes the door open. “After you.” He holds out an arm. 

She walks in and sees the warehouse is actually an art studio. The walls are adorned with dozens of paintings. Easels  had paintings sitting on them, the whole room was colorful and bright. Lights were strung all over the beams creating a beautiful cozy, romantic atmosphere. In the corner was a table set for two. 

“I know what you’re thinking.” Timothee told her as he walked in, placing a hand on her waist. “What happened to not being fancy and subtle?” He guided her to the table and pulled out a chair. “First off, I don’t do subtle.” He pushed her seat in and took a seat himself. “I show my feelings in big ways.” He tells her, pulling his napkin out and placing it on his lap. “Also, it’s not fancy and I only spent money on the food.” He smirks. “This is my friend's place. An afternoon of elbow work and this is what we get.” He opened the dish in the middle of the table and revealed steaming chicken alfredo. The bread was soft and salted just right. The entire meal was heavenly. 

“Tim, is this Olive Garden?” She asks with a hand over her mouth.

“I told you I did my research.” He nodded. “I asked Sal like a million questions.” He admitted.

“Meaning you ambushed my uncle for infor for a date.”

“If you want to belittle my efforts, yes.” He poured her a glass of wine. “But, yes. I played 20 questions with Sal to get this right.” She sipped her wine looking over at him. “I learned Olive Garden is your favorite restaurant. You love art and used to paint. Your favorite wine is chardonnay. You have a cat named Scooter and you found him in a dumpster the night you moved to LA.”

“Well, Mr. Chalamet, I will admit, I’m impressed. You did your homework.”

“You’re a fun subject to study.” The look in his eye is mischievous, yet sweet. 

“Oh am I?” She sipped her wine. “I always thought I was quite boring.”

“I don’t think you're boring at all.” He sips from his own glass. “You ever thought about going back to painting?” 

“I played with the idea, but never settled back down long enough to really get back into it. I’ve always been busy working to keep myself afloat.”

“I’d love to see some of your work.” He tells her. 

“Maybe.”

He looks behind himself at the studio lightly lit and then back to her. “Want to dance?”

“Dance?” She placed her wine glass down. “You know how to dance?”

“A little.” His smirk was like a school boy and it made her heart flutter. He stood, holding his hand out to her. 

She took his hand and he led her to the middle of the studio. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he pulled her close, taking her hand in his. Her hand rests on his shoulder, looking him in the eye. They gently begin to sway to the music, Timothee trying very hard not to smile from ear to ear.

“What are you grinning at?” She asked with a smile. 

“I’m thinking for our next date, maybe a basketball game.”

“Next date?” She raised her brow. “Feeling sure of yourself, aren’t we?”

“Your smile and that look in your eyes tells me all I need to know.”

“Oh?”

Timothee gives a gentle nod. “Yes.” He clears his throat gently. “So, tell me,” He looks down into her eyes. “You rather LA or New York?”

“In general?” She giggles.

“Yes.” He gives a chuckle. “You’ve lived in both. What do you think?”

“I like L.A. It’s slower paced and more relaxed than New York. Everyone isn’t on top of one another.”

“But?” He raises a brow, knowing there was a but coming.

“I do miss the city. The easiness of it all being right there. The sounds and the people.” She watches Timothee nod as he looks at her while she talks. “You actually listen.”

“Of course I’m listening.” He smirks at her. “Why wouldn’t I be listening?”

Gently shaking her head she glanced away. “Most guys just pretend to listen while they plot their next move.”

“I’m not most.” He lifts his hand and tilts her chin up. “I could listen to you all night.” His thumb caressed her cheek. 

“What’s the catch with you?”

Timothee smirks. “I’m touchy.” He leaned in, touching his lips to hers.

He held the kiss till he needed breath. He pulled away long enough to catch a breath and press his lips back to hers. Unlike before she let him explore her mouth with his tongue. She could feel how needy he was to taste her. She was just as eager as he was and her reserve to hold back was letting up. She let herself melt into him as his hands held her firm against his body. His grip was firm yet gentle on her back. Her hands slid up his neck, her fingers tangling into his hair. 

Her back touched the wall, unaware that she was being backed up till she touched the wall. She gave a giggle into Timothee’s mouth. 

He pulled away with a smile and looked her in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She pulled him back to her mouth. 

He pulled her from the wall as their tongues danced together as they moved across the room. Hands grabbing and lips gliding over skin. They hit a shelf and pulled apart with a gasp as cold paint spilled onto them.

Timothee had bright yellow paint dripping from his nice shirt and hair. She looked at her dress, the vibrant blue completely ruining her dress. “I am so sorry!” Timothee looked over at her, her hands covering her mouth. “I’ll get you something to clean up with!” As he walked past her a sound left her and he turned back. “Did you just snort?” She let out the most adorable laugh Timothee had ever heard as she balled over in a fit of laughter. “Are you laughing?”

“Yes!” She laughed out. “You have paint in your ear.” She reaches, grabbing a towel from the shelf. 

“Your dress just got ruined and you're laughing?” He asked as she wiped his ear. 

She took a deep breath, standing in front of him. “Shut up and kiss me, Mr. Chalamet.” She told him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

Timothee got an earful from his friend for making a mess in the studio, but he didn’t mind. It was worth the slow kisses that lead to a heated make out session on the now ruined black leather couch. 

[mushroom-punk]

the renfield movie review.

After getting rained on, having our first movie theater’s projector break, and having to drive to a different theater, I have finally watched Renfield (2023). ...and it was...fine? The movie’s overall tone is campy and fun, and it never takes itself seriously. It’s writing is horrible, god its so bad - the characters say exactly what they’re thinking at all times, and no emotional arc feels earned or fought for, there are no stakes (haha). But due to how silly the film is, this never makes it hard to watch. Nicholas Hoult truly shines in this movie and makes each scene with him engaging and fun. But god the writing. More thoughts bellow!

I think this movie’s biggest flex is its art direction, with over the top set pieces that create this nasty atmosphere that hangs over the whole film. Its like a grimy combination of The Lost Boys and The Phantom of the Opera. This is all complimented by the score. Without spoiling anything, there’s a moment where Dracula is monologuing and a sinister, orchestral rendition of Swan Lake plays, another reference to the 1931 movie it’s so heavily based off of. Although, it does get points of for the worst use of “na na na na” by MCR I’ve ever seen. It’s second best quality is certainly Nicholas Hoult, who took the shitty script he was given and really made something good with it. There’s a moment when Awkwafina’s character is on the phone, telling another character how fucked up Renfield is - who is sitting in the background cutely drinking some tea. Another detail I really appreciated about Hoult’s performance was the unexpected intensity with which he delivered some lines. On top of keeping Dwight Frye’s iconic laugh, it’s clear Hoult cares deeply for the source material and, if the script was better, I think he could have done a compelling book-accurate Renfield. NICHOLAS CAGE ITS NICK CAGE BABY HE WAS AWESOME ITS NICHOLAS CAGE! His portrayal of Dracula is fun and nasty as hell and might have fucked Ben Schwartz’s mom? The down side to having a movie that uses stylized hyper violence is that any threats of violence Dracula makes don’t really stick. Oh you’re gonna be violent? This is the violence movie! This isn’t an effective threat, you’re not scary! Contrasting this, the few moments where Dracula is simply talking to Renfield, acting like a real-world abuser and not the cartoon villain he is for most of the movie, are eerie and off-putting. Awkwafina’s there. Onto the bad. This film has no stakes, there are few things Renfield can’t slice apart or Awkwafina’s character can’t shoot, and due to the stated hyperviolence, Dracula never feels like a real threat to anyone except the main cast. The characters state what they feel, they experience something, and then state that they feel different in detail.  I’ve mentioned that it’s extremely frustrating that 2023′s Renfield is not written with psychosis in mind, and how this is made worse by its use of pop-psychology terms and the labeling of Dracula as a narcissist - a real condition that doesn’t make the people who have it inherently bad or abusive. This is still true, in fact the frequent references to the 1931 film, while well done, simply reminded me of what Hoult’s performance could have been. The poor writing is this film’s largest downfall, it betrays the heart Hoult brings to his role and its art department. ....however, none of the pop-psychology ever seems to really...do anything effective? Yes, Renfield literally calls Dracula a narcissist and they never really discredit it, but its also shown that calling him all these things and using snappy language doesn’t actually do anything. What does help Renfield the most is finding community and bonding with other people who have experienced abuse. What helps him is talking to people about it and realizing he isn’t alone, which I think is a pretty decent take. I’m going to watch it again when it’s uploaded to my pirating site of choice, but overall it felt more like a criticism of pop-psychology, rather than a celebration of it. Oh and also that the most effective thing you can do to get out of an abusive relationship is to beat the shit out of your abuser with your best friend. 6.5/10.

[brekkie-e]

Horizon Asks

Thanks for the tag @maybirdie I salute you

1. Ride or die ship (your otp): Ereloy. Duh. Not even a question. Brain rot of the most severe nature.

2. Most annoying ship: I stand by the sentiment that we all need to stop with the shipping war drama in this fandom. So before I say anything more, I don’t find any of your ships annoying. I’m putting these down as “scroll past them” ships because they don’t suit my personal taste. Kotaloy and Kotallo/Talanah. His inclusion in these might come off like it’s something against him which is ironic cause he’s actually one of my favorite characters? I think the weak point of them for me is that they both feel like hot jock/hot jock, and apparently I cannot appreciate a ship that doesn’t in some capacity adhere to opposite’s attract. But I can see why it works for other people and if it makes you happy, I support it.

3. Second favorite ship: Abadund/Morlund, and for whatever reason Ourea/Sylens. I love imagining Sylens’ ears absolutely burning while he eavesdrops on her conversation with Aloy about what she had thought of him.

4. Favorite platonic relationship: I am OBSESSED with the dynamic between Kotallo and Alva. Obsessed I say. They are precious to me.

5. Underrated ship: It isn’t a ship, it’s a half built dingy that I am assembling myself but lost the instructions for. Talanah/Ivvira. In a very “enemies to lovers” scenario where Ivvira keeps finding this arrogant Carja traipsing through her lands and tries to kill her, but Talanah keeps defeating her and it’s driving her up a wall.

6. Overrated ship: Honestly I don’t really have opinions about other ships??? Like if it isn’t Ereloy or one of the other’s I’ve listed then genuinely it’s just sitting there, and I don’t care about it. Now if they were to make one end game, and it feels like I’m blindsided by it? Maybe I’ll have an opinion. But atm not so much. Just let me sit in my corner with my ships in peace.

7. One thing I would change in canon: Seconding the “one?” Vibes. There are a lot of nit picky things I would like to alter about how they handled Erend in Forbidden West, but ultimately he did play a good role in some of my favorite scenes. So I think if it came down to choosing the one thing I would change, it’s hands down Varl’s death. It felt like a lot of character development wasted and it’s frustrating to know that we won’t get to see the relationships he was developing grow any deeper. I think if you have to rely on character death to create an interesting story or to traumatize your characters, then youre not being creative.

8. Something canon did right:

Alva.

9. A thing I’m proud of creating for the fandom:

My darlings.

10. A character who is perfect to me: I guess Alva’s already taken so…… hmm. I love Joruf’s vibes ngl. The man is so tired, and I just adore how he and the other vanguard treat Aloy like she’s one of the gang. The energy of Aloy showing up in the Daunt and Joruf acting like his coworker came in mid-shift to help him with a disaster was top tier.

11. The character I relate to most and why: I had to really think about this. I think I’m going with Zo? Mom friend to the core, but also known to cause problems of my own when the need arises. Like’s plant’s and nature and has a creative side. Values her community, but also criticizes the faults she sees in it.

12. Characters I hate the most: I mean the obvious, Faro sucks ass. But boy howdy did the Ceo give me the creeps too. Also I have a complicated relationship with Avad. Like the dude has done incredible stuff for his people, and I think he’s a great guy. But his blunders with Aloy (which i think are more an issue with how his interest in her was written than with the fact he’s interested period) and his dreams of handing off responsibility to his little brother rub me the wrong way. But it’s complicated, I can appreciate him.

13: Something I’ve learned from the fandom: To focus on what makes me happy, and stay in that lane. I think fandom is best enjoyed when you know what you want out of it, so you cater your online experience to that. Mary Kondo your blog. Block tags that don’t work for you. It doesn’t need to be because you absolutely hate something and the people involved. It just ensures that the content you see is catered to what sparks joy for YOU. If youre only dedicating so much time in a day to being online, don’t you want it to be time spent engaging with stuff that makes you happy?

14. Three tags I see out on ao3: hurt/comfort and slow burn? I don’t seek out enough tags lol

15: A song I strongly associate with my otp/favorite pairing: Bloodsport by Raleigh Ritchie, NFWMB by Hozier, Giant by Rag’nBone Man and Saviour by George Ezra. This question made me so happy. I am actually working on an Erend playlist rn that has a bit of an Ereloy spin on it. Oh also She’s Always a Woman by Billie Joel. Still a gem.

Tagging: I think everyone I know in the fandom has already been tagged?? But if that is untrue and you see this, please feel free to jump on board and consider yourself tagged by me!

[amournoir]

Writing Questions Tag Game!

tagged by @fvckinghenrycavill thank you love!

• What is your absolute all-time favourite idea you've ever had?

the general idea that i should write. i had read so many fics and i figured i should try to write one as well. my problem was that i had so many ideas but i couldn’t get them all down fast enough which made me procrastinate but i finished my first ‘series’ and quickly after, i had an idea about another one 😭 i’m not a new writer though, i’ve been writing since i was at least 11, my first ‘public’ story was an OC on quotev which is cringeworthy to read now so i tried brushing it up and posted that on wattpad (ended up making the whole thing private) and then i wrote on tumblr and posted my first ‘fic’.

• Is there a question you've been asked in the past that really stands out to you and you still think about sometimes?

no, at least not on tumblr. when i wrote on quotev, i had other writers who asked to be co-authors on my story which made me feel like i was doing something right.

• What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

the writing part is my favorite especially if my idea easily flows from my head to my fingertips. i love things that look visually appealing so it takes me a bit longer to make the entire fic look pretty. something i would leave would be writer’s block because it’s not about lacking inspiration, it’s about losing the drive/desire to write anything. it’s even worse when i have a great series lined up but the thought of sitting down and writing it physically makes me sick.

also, i’m a perfectionist, i can’t stand the thought of writing anything that is subpar so i tend to put that wip on the side which i then forget to return to later….on the off chance that i do return to it, i hate the fic idea so now i completely won’t write it. i no longer come up with a fic title, i just write my idea down and keep going, i’ll figure out a title or summary at the end. if i don’t it this way, it’ll force me to look at the fic in one way only which stresses me out because i feel like i can’t deviate from the ‘original’ idea if that makes sense.

• What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

1) reading the responses to my fics + reading fics from other authors that i adore. i’ve read my fair share of fics but only a couple have stood out to me. i gravitate more towards writers that have a similar writing style as myself or those who want to tell a story that you can easily follow along with that pulls you in.

2) music. i can create any fic from either a full song or just one lyrical line (must be powerful enough). i dislike music fics though, you know the ones that have lyrics in the fic….yeah not a fan but that’s my opinion. also, playlists are my favorite thing to ever have existed because i create a whole series from a 1hr playlist.

3) booktok. if you’re on tiktok, you know exactly what i’m talking about when i say ‘booktok’. i won’t go in depth explaining this one but just know it’s deriving ideas from existing books.

• What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

writer’s block is different for everyone and you never know when it’ll actually hit you. i’ve never had it in my whole life up until this year and i totally didn’t know how to ‘handle’ it.

• What is your favourite story you've written TO COMPLETION? Link it if you'd like and can!

i wish i could link it! lol it’s the one in my head, i have 2 series and idk when they’ll ever be done or if they will be.

• What is your favourite out-of-the-box quote?

lol i don’t think i have one

• Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

i’m still working on my wips and there are new characters but surprisingly none of them. their mindset might be controversial to some but not me honestly. i like characters that have an ideal or two that can be relatable, i wouldn’t write characters that are fully unhinged because i can’t force myself into that mindset and it’d be uncomfortable to write. *i will revisit this question later on because it’s interesting to me*

• If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

lmao younger me would definitely think i’ve lost my mind with half the ideas i’ve come up with. also, she might be a bit disappointed because i loved writing poetry and there’s this specific piece of writing that i adore, it’s my favorite thing i’ve ever written and i wish i could write like that again. it was a short story for a class and i wholeheartedly love it. other than that, she wouldn’t be too surprised because i haven’t changed that much, i grew up and so did my perspective of how to write stories.

🏷️ tag you’re it: @dreamingwithrafe @delicate-moon-princess @softcoremaybank @fleurfairie + anyone else!

[god-of-dust]

For the Fic Writer Ask:

3, 9, 12, 13, 15 and 20 (sorry for asking so many, but I'm really excited for your answers!)

hey friend, thank you! and don’t worry about asking too many questions, i felt talkative :D

[deep fic writer asks]

3. what fic are you emotionally attached to?

in all honesty, a lot of the fics that i love the most will probably stay forever unfinished in my drafts. as for the fics i actually have finished and posted, i have a soft spot for unscripted, and the reason is that writing it has been fun. readers have praised the character development in it, but it’s something that just happened while i was busy being outrageously self-indulgent with a plot that, to me, was head-empty-just-smut. it reminds me that a story doesn’t have to be that deep to be enjoyable and worth telling.

9. what's your writing process like?

an important part of my process is that appreciation and community-driven deadlines are the main motivators that drive me to actually finish works, which is why shipping weeks are very useful indeed. most of my fics (if not all) are birthed through hyperfixation, which in my case means that i have to squeeze the creative juices on the page before the enthusiasm fades.

on the plot side of things, there are vibes at the wheel rather than a well-thought plan, which is why i usually don’t go for longer stories (though i want to learn to.) i imagine a scene, a concept or a collection of them, and then i string them together until they’re coherent.

thus, when i know that i have a story i want to tell and there’s an audience that makes me excited to sit down and get my fingers on the keyboard, i found out that having a daily word count goal and a timer is the best way for my brain to stop obsessing over every single word and produce instead a repetitive, absurd, unhinged stream of consciousness that i can nonetheless edit later. i put on some background music, open focuswriter with its handy word count options to set my daily goal, start the timer and then i type away until i’m done, even if nothing that comes out makes any lick of sense. all that first draft has to do is exist.

12. What’s your perfect environment to create/write?

for the timed sessions i enjoy sitting at the desk in my room where i usually work. when inspiration strikes me elsewhere i use one of those note-taking apps in my phone and then transfer it to my computer later if i feel like it.

mostly, i want to have time and space to relax and do my thing.

13. Do you take pride in your writing, or does it embarrass you? Why?

interesting question 👀 a bit of both, i think. i do like it at times, but when i go back and read my fics i also feel like my style is kind of immature and the story could have been told better.

15. How do you think your writing as improved over time?

i learned not to judge myself too much during the writing process, so i gained more inspired turn of phrases and emotional depth that i could never have reached if i kept obsessing over good form and not sounding like the ESL speaker that i am. my mother tongue bleeds through my words in many ways and that’s okay.

20. What’s the greatest gift you’ve gotten from your writing?

readers who care about the stories i tell and who leave comments to let me know that they appreciate what i do. it’s humbling and exciting in a way i can’t describe. in the past, it often felt shallow and shameful to think that i create not only for myself but also because i love the validation, but i realize now that it’s true: community is great. sharing my stuff with people who are excited about it is amazing. the more love my creative works receive, the more of them i want to put out in the world.

[bigskydreaming]

Hey, just wanted to write my own appreciation for your lightning crashes fic. like the plotlines are truly mysterious and I love how you make the characters interact with each other, both lightheartedly and serious at times. what i cant understand is how you can skillfully write like more than ten characters with their own motives and backstory and still make them sound interesting and nuanced???

generally with writing you can see how the author zooms in on one favorite character and make the whole world surround them, and by that make the beloved character sound lifeless and uninteresting, and the sidecharacter even more. esp w/ stiles, like imo is someone that literally irks me for how he's being treated by the show and the audience, the perfekt, snarky guy that can do no wrong, and by that the narrative never learns to make stiles apologize and grow. but with your text (2/3)

... i don't see you praising one character and relentlessly bashing the other *teen wolf fandom cough cough* instead meet every character with respect and criticism at the same time and it's amazing and I love it and I'm so happy I could read it.

Okay I just wanted to say I have been sitting on this for like a month and so sorry I didn’t acknowledge it sooner, because it was seriously such a great thing to get - I just wanted to be able to reply when I was able to offer up more of LC because I’d really been hoping to sit down and bang out these next parts for a few weeks but was distracted by trying by us needing to move this month.

But I always love when people mention being as interested in the various side characters’ plots in the fic as they are Scott or Kira or even Malia and the twins. I always love seeing minor characters get expanded on in fanfic so one of the things I really wanted to do with this fic was like....I may not have the space to give them all the same amount of screentime, but like, they all have their own stuff going on when we do check in on them, y’know? Their lives don’t revolve around the main characters’ even if the main characters’ actions do drive the plot and thus massively affect them. 

And honestly I just really love writing the chaos of the McCall pack in this and how their personalities all play off of each other. Over the years I’ve written various ‘outtakes’ in response to asks or random posts, and I’m gonna try and find them all and maybe create a compendium fic/post to link them, or at least make sure they’re all tagged with ‘lightning crashes.’

But thank you again for the long comment, it really made my day when I got it and then revisited it again today, and sorry again for sitting on this for so long!

[universitypenguin]

Okay Alice! So what's your writing style? I just figured out mine. It's controlled panster I know the ending and some plot points of my story but plotting stress me out. I think you'll be a plotter or a planster🤔

You’re spot on! I’m a methodological pantser.

If I do too much outlining, the energy fades away. Knowing the full story just makes me feel like I’m done with it before I’ve written anything. I fall on the edge between plotter and pantser. For an act, I use a rough outline, just to make sure I’m keeping up a good pace and not getting distracted. But beyond knowing the pinch points between acts, my midpoint and the ending, I don’t bother very much.

Also, I never really plot the third act beyond knowing approximately where I’d like to end.

I’m sure of my type, because I definitely revise and edit at the same time I’m writing the first draft. On the continuums, if you assigned the middle as zero and the extreme application of the trait as 100%, I would say I’m 5% a plotter and 95% methodological.

When I do sit down and outline a story, I’ll get one or two results. One - I lose interest. Two - having created the plan, I can now throw away the plan and write from a more creative perspective. Option two works kind of like doing a first draft, but it’s more time efficient.

I’m also totally committed to story structure.

There are so many variations on them that I never get bored learning about structure. I would say I refine my ideas with plotting and then charge in without a firm plan in mind. The tent pole method, where you know the key turning point and you’re always mindful of where you are in the story’s progression is what I rely on. This is probably why most people think I’m a plotter, when I’m really not. For example, with the Princess and the Lawyer I know the midpoint for certain, and I have since the beginning. But I don’t have much more than a concept about how I’m going to do the ending. To accommodate that when I wrote Nguyen’s interrogation scene, I made a list of potential scenarios and lists of clues that would be interesting to write about. I might use them or I might come up with something better once I know more about the story.

For me, plotting is more of an exercise in finding out how not to write the story, if that makes sense. Once I’ve plotted enough that I can tell my ideas are getting better, I start writing and see what comes out. This is always a surprise. I have no idea what I’m going to make the characters say and do once I’m in the zone. After I see it on paper, I can work with my methodological skills and pare it down into something that works. The creative side of me has to come out during the actual process of writing and then the scientific mind evaluates her colleague’s work, and helps with organization and execution.

Another reason I know I’m a methodological pantser is because I always run out of steam. The first 15,000 words of a book usually take me less than a week. Then I slow down a little for the next 15,000 and struggle through the transition into Act 2. Then, I’m down for the count. Discipline and commitment are key to getting through the next three chapters but they can take me months. I’ll set little goals and focus on writing every single day, because you can only fail for so long. Eventually, something works out. What’s helped me lately is expecting that 2nd Act “pit of despair” and reminding myself that I can, in fact, get through it.

I also run out of steam in the middle of Act 3. The fact is, all that freedom comes with a price. Where I planned to end up is never where I actually end up. It was a lie all along. But it’s always just accurate enough to get me to the right spot, where I can figure out the ending. It’s as if I’d planned a road trip from Los Angeles to New York, and once I hit New York, I realize I have to go to Vermont. Then I can look back at my story and see that I was never driving towards New York at all.

However, when I hit the end of a story and I finally see the ending, I go crazy. When I was writing “Restitution” I wrote, edited, and posted the last four chapters inside of a 24 hour window after a full day at work. No joke. I was awake for a full 48 hours, locked into a genuine ADHD hyper focus, while I finished that story. The time stamps on the posts will prove it.

It’s a strange and chaotic writing type, but that’s what makes it fun. 😂

[queenaryastark]

Arya Stark + Feminism

George R. R. Martin created Arya specifically as a feminist character:

I can’t say there’s any one specific model, but a lot of the women I’ve known over the years have had aspects of Arya with them. Especially some of the women I knew when I was a young man back in the ’60s and ’70s, you know — the decade of the sexual revolution and the feminist movement. I knew a lot of young women who weren’t buying into the, “Oh, I have to find a husband and be a housewife.”

That’s certainly part of Arya’s thing. There’s that scene where Ned is telling her, “Well, one day you’ll grow up and you’ll marry a great lord and you’ll be the lady of the castle.” And she says, “No, I won’t. I don’t want that. That’s Sansa, that’s not me.” I knew women who were saying things like that: “I don’t wanna be Mrs. Smith, I wanna be my own person.” -- GRRM, Rolling Stone 2019

This is illustrated in her first chapter where she argues the value of women with Jon and insists she should have the same opportunities to learn as her little brother, Bran:

She watched her little brother whack at Tommen. "I could do just as good as Bran," she said. "He's only seven. I'm nine."

---

"The Lannisters are proud," Jon observed. "You'd think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mother's House equal in honor to the king's." "The woman is important too!" Arya protested. -- Arya I, AGOT

Later in the novel, she asks her father about three different careers she aspires to, all of which involve power and influence in her own right rather than through a husband or male relations:

"Yet someday he may be the lord of a great holdfast and sit on the king's council. He might raise castles like Brandon the Builder, or sail a ship across the Sunset Sea, or enter your mother's Faith and become the High Septon." But he will never run beside his wolf again, he thought with a sadness too deep for words, or lie with a woman, or hold his own son in his arms. Arya cocked her head to one side. "Can I be a king's councillor and build castles and become the High Septon?" -- Eddard V, AGOT

It’s interesting to note that while Arya and Ned are talking about how Bran’s aspirations to be a knight are over and Ned mentions sailing a ship across the Narrow Sea for his son, Arya doesn’t latch onto knighthood or sailing. She focuses on being a king’s councillor, architect, and high septon.

The historical figures Arya admires are progressive and assertive women who led others:

Nymeria nipped eagerly at her hand as Arya untied her. She had yellow eyes. When they caught the sunlight, they gleamed like two golden coins. Arya had named her after the warrior queen of the Rhoyne, who had led her people across the narrow sea. -- Arya I, AGOT

Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs. -- Arya XII, ASOS

In addition to admiring historical women, Arya defends other women by executing two rapists for their crime against another girl she never met, Layna. First she uses one of her death wishes on Chiswyck right after he tells the story of what he did. Raff the Sweetling’s execution was also due to his murder of Lommy, but he admitted to participating in the gang rape. Not only does she trick Raff into repeating Lommy’s last words, she presents herself as a young girl he can rape, only to turn the situation around on him.

Arya also has multiple positive female relationships and helps drive business to the Happy Port:

"The best whores are at the Happy Port, down by where the mummers' Ship is moored." She pointed. Some of the dockside whores were vicious, and sailors fresh from the sea never knew which ones. S'vrone was the worst. Everyone said she had robbed and killed a dozen men, rolling the bodies into the canals to feed the eels. The Drunken Daughter could be sweet when sober, but not with wine in her. And Canker Jeyne was really a man. "Ask for Merry. Meralyn is her true name, but everyone calls her Merry, and she is." Merry bought a dozen oysters every time Cat came by the brothel and shared them with her girls. She had a good heart, everyone agreed. "That, and the biggest pair of teats in all of Braavos," Merry herself was fond of boasting. Her girls were nice as well; Blushing Bethany and the Sailor's Wife, one-eyed Yna who could tell your fortune from a drop of blood, pretty little Lanna, even Assadora, the Ibbenese woman with the mustache. They might not be beautiful, but they were kind to her. "The Happy Port is where all the porters go," Cat assured the men of the Brazen Monkey. "'The boys unload the ships,' Merry says, 'and my girls unload the lads who sail them.'" -- Arya III, AFFC

[chelleztjs18]

Half Love (Ch. 4) - Fitting In The Memories

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader ; Katie McGrath x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n's relationship with Lizzie has been in a rough situation and goes downhill. What should Y/n do when there's no choice left to say and a new future opens up with someone new in it?

Warning: This is a collaboration book with my co-writer / friend @stonemags and it’s an 18+ series. Angst, angst, fluff, smut, and swearing words. I do not own any pictures, GIFs, name, brand, song titles and anything I use in this story.

A/N: Hello! I'm back with this series update! It's time for more angsty Sunday! Mags and I hope you enjoy this Ch. 4! Happy reading!

Series Masterlist

A few days after you and Lizzie met, she can’t stop thinking about you. Night after night, she has been so restless and her nights have been filled with her tossing and turning while trying to sleep. Her mind is occupied by you, the memories you both had, and the recent encounter after a year. All of them mixed together. She misses you, so much that all of her bones ache.

From the small memory she has from the time you met her at the meeting, her brain keeps trying to analyze your body language, your words, and your tone to see how you exactly felt when you saw her. Of course it makes her heart clenches in pain and leaped in joy at the same time. Not just that, since that day, Lizzie keeps checking on her phone. Hoping and wishin that you text or call her. It’s almost driving her crazy, really. Displeasure and regrets sometimes show up, thinking she should’ve just bluntly asked for your number but she doesn’t want to make everything awkward and make you create a wall between both of you. Sometimes she just voluntarily lets everything go with the flow even though she knows deep down she wants to fight to win your heart back.

“Stop biting your nails, Liz.” Scarlett reminds Lizzie who is sitting on the passenger side as they are driving to the set for wardrobe fitting day for the main cast today. The second Lizzie found out the fitting schedule, her heart skipped a beat and her stomach turned into a knot. She dreaded yet waiting for this day to come. She can’t lie to herself, she wants to see you again but she also wants to run away from you at the same time.

“I know that it must be hard for you to face Y/n again after a year but I just want to check up on you, how do you actually feel about working with her?” The blonde asks her as she quickly glances at her then back to the road. “I actually don’t know how I feel, Scar.” Lizzie answers in a very low voice as if she doesn’t have enough air in her lungs from thinking about how it is going to be when she is working with you. She looks down, her hands fidgeting nervously.

“I know I have to keep everything professional. One hand, I’m so happy that I can see her again and talk to her, even work with her but on the other hand I don’t know if I can handle it. No matter how y/n and I try to keep everything professional.” Lizzie swallows hard after struggling to answer Scar’s question.

“I understand. Do you know who she is playing in this movie?” Scar asks. “I don’t. I was too nervous and caught off guard when I saw her at the meeting, I didn’t even think to ask her about it.” Lizzie’s fingers rake through her hair, pulling back her hair from her face as she lets out a vixated exhale.

“Okay, uh– well, in the meeting, I met all the main cast and I know who plays who, except one.” Scarlet slowly explains. “Who?” The brunette asks instantly. “Uh your character’s love interest and… the onlyyy cast I haven’t met or talked to was—” Scarlet adds slowly to anticipate her best friend’s reaction but she is quickly interrupted. “Y/n.” Your name fell out of Lizzie’s lips as she came to realization.

“Y/n plays as my love interest. Fuck me.” She covers her face with both of her hands frustratedly, swearing under her breath. Her chest stuttered from the information she just got. Anxiety swirled around her. A weight settled on her heart.

She barely could control her emotions when she saw you or when she thought about you at night, let alone play as each other’s love interest.

“Liz, relax. I know both of you are professional at work. I’m sure both of you can pull this together.” Scarlett tries to calm her down. “Yeah, you are right. I can do this.” Lizzie tries to agree and clear her mind from everything as she controls her breathing at the same time.

“There you go. I know you can do it. Okay, we are here. Let’s go, Liz.” Scar parks the car and opens her door. Both of them walk to the building. As soon as they get into the building, the staff welcomes them and takes Scarlett to a separate room shortly after telling Lizzie to go to room 56 and someone will be waiting for her. She nods and goes to find the room.

Her conversation with Scarlett earlier makes her mind ponder if you are here today. As she walks through the hallway, her heart beats tripling in speed just from thinking that you might be near her. Her eyes subconsciously search for you, every time she passes a door and another and another, her heart hesitates to beat as it secretly begs to see you. Her nose craves your scents, secretly yet intensely searching for your perfume in the air.

Her stomach feels a weird sensation every time she sees a shadow reflected from inside of a room she passes thinking you will be in her sight. Once she sees the number she was searching on the door, she enters the room.Her breath hitches as she finds you in there, standing in your underwear as you put on a t-shirt, sets of clothes are laying in front of you on a table.

An alarm rings in her head when she sees you there and when parts of your bareskin make its way to be seen by her eyes, it instantly sends a short circuit to her brain. She is frozen, trapped under the door frame and can't help but stare at you.

All the emotions she has in her heart and brain paralyzed her. She doesn't know if she wants to smile or wants to cry at this moment. Her heart feels joy and pain at the same time and it's killing her alive.

Her soft shaky breath floats in between silence and brings your attention to her. You are as surprised as she is. Your brain refuses to work after she is in your sight. All your muscles are on strike to move except your eyes that are looking at her gingerly from head to toe. Your heart jumps up to your throat, you are choked on its strong irregular beats, leaving you speechless.

You notice her green eyes start to gleam and glossy. Her lips make a little movement as if tries to talk but she is as speechless as you are. Lizzie hates the gap between you two. She can't deny herself, she wants to be as close as she possibly could. Awkward silence fills the room and the gap in front of both of you.

All shattered when a sound of an opening door forces its way to be heard and Katie comes out of the bathroom as she walks towards you. "Alright, y/n, I'm heading out. I should be back in twenty minutes tops." The black hair woman talks to you with her soft, lovely voice.

Katie's presence subconsciously makes Lizzie try "to mark her territory" on you as if you are still hers by walking closer. Her steps are stopped, her breath hitches when she sees your hand on her left arm and slides down slowly as you two talk.

It was an innocent friendly physical touch you did to the Irish actress but Lizzie knows you very well. You are a nice, sweet and very friendly person to anybody but you almost never do physical contact with people you just met, unless..unless you enjoy their presence or that person makes you comfortable and she knows it's not easy to occur. 

The stare and her breath hitching pull Katie to turn around only to find Lizzie standing there, lost in the thought of you feeling comfortable enough with Katie or the question she has in mind about what's actually going on between you and the slightly taller woman in front of you. Do you like the actress in front of you? Have you really moved on from her that easy? All those thoughts flicked rapidly in seconds until Katie sweetly greeted her.

"Oh, Sorry I didn't know you were there. Hello Elizabeth. Nice to meet you." Katie offers Lizzie a handshake.

"Hi. Katie. Likewise." Three short words were the only things Lizzie managed to say as she accepted her handshake with a smile that was complicatedly patched across her face.

"So, darling, one cream with no sugar?” Katie asks with a smile after she turns her head back to you. Before you can answer her, Lizzie corrects her. “It’s two creams with one sugar actually.” Her green eyes flick between Katie and you. Katie does the same thing but with a confused look. Silence slowly floats in the room again but you quickly push it away. “No. No. You are actually right. Thank you, Katie. I’ll see you in a bit.” Katie nods and leaves.

Awkward silence slowly makes its comeback in the room. As soon as Lizzie tries to start a conversation, the wardrobe crew comes in and explains to both of you today’s fitting plan. You got the first turn.

Lizzie sits on the chair waiting for her turn. She sees you smiling while texting in the middle of  wardrobe fitting. Oh how she wished that smile was for her. The more she looks at you the more her control over her eyes disappears magically. She is no longer able to pull her stare away from you. Once again as if she is in trance, she is now stunned by the view of your body. Your body that she used to call it hers. The body that always gives her warmth in every hug she gets. Her eyes have their own mind and looks at your legs that reminds her of all of the cuddlings on movie nights you both had. How you always wrapped your legs on her.

She tries to look away but her eyes do the opposite and move up to your back. Her heart beats slower from the pain it feels caused by the memories but beats faster as soon as she remembers how your skin feels every time she runs her fingers on it. 

Her eyes are craving to see you more and she can't help herself. She looks at the crook of your neck. She remembers how your perfume was always there and the smell of it evoked her nose every time she hugged you that gave her a comfort wrapped euphoria. It's one of her favorite things about you. She can't lie that it still gives the same effect to her, the only differences now are that feeling comes with a painful heartbreak and a fact that you are not hers anymore.

You can feel her quite stare and it draws your gaze to her. As soon as you glance at her, she looks away followed by clearing her throat.

Once again, as soon as she tries to talk with you, Katie comes in with cups of coffee on a paper cup holder then sets it on the table. She grabs one and waits for you to be done putting on the outfit.

"Here's your coffee, dear." She hands it to you. "Oh thank you, Katie." You accept it with gratitude. The pet name she called you burns Lizzie's ears. She slightly clenches her fist. Trying hard to tell herself that Katie called you with that pet name just because it's common to use where she is from. She is lost in her thoughts and displeasure until she hears her name called.

She gets back from her daze only to find the Irish actress standing in front of her, stretching her hands out with a cup of coffee. "Elizabeth? Are you okay?" She asks. "Uh y-yeah yeah. Sorry I was thinking about work." The brunette actress answers.

"Oh okay. Here's your coffee. A latte with an extra one espresso shot and almond milk." She offers as she smiles. "Oh Katie, wow uh. You shouldn't have." Lizzie is surprised that she brought a coffee the way she likes and answers awkwardly.

"No, please. I insist. I thought you'd love one so I texted y/n to ask you what you would like." Katie explains. Lizzie accepts the cup of coffee and her gaze jumps between you and Katie as she thanks her. "Oh okay. Thank you. That was nice of both of you." Lizzie smiles awkwardly. Katie answers with a hum and you nod without a word at Lizzie when she glances thanking you then continue doing the fitting. Waves of feelings come to her, flooding her mind.

You didn't ask her if she wants coffee or what coffee she wants. You still know her very well and remember what she likes. That thought alone spreads warmth in her heart but her mind gets overfilled with memories you both had as soon as her coffee brushed her taste buds. Memories of mornings and breakfasts she had with you that she took for granted. Or the coffee dates that in the last year in her relationship with you she no longer came because she thought it was stupid.

It's crazy how a sip of coffee can instantly feel like a hit in her guts and a slap on her face, not to mention makes her feel stupid for doing what she did to you. Regrets definitely wrap her mind and heart. Her heart feels heavy when she sees your smile when you talk with Katie.

Everything she feels right now is suddenly replaced by anger and jealousy when she hears Katie ask you about the scar on your slightly above your lower belly as she touches it then runs her fingers on it. “What happened? How did you get this scar?”

Lizzie is nervous and jealous. “Oh, this.. It was from—” You got interrupted by Claire, one of the wardrobe crew coming into the room then stands in front of you doing what she needs to do to the clothing you are wearing. “Sorry, y/n. I need you to stay still so I can get the perfect size for you.” said the lady who was holding a tape measure. Hearing that, Katie moves away from you to give her some room. She sits next to Lizzie.

“That scar–uh y/n got into an accident at the theater where she used to play. It was an old theater, the stage collapsed when she was doing a rehearsal. Something like a huge metal scratch her pretty deep.When I got there after they called me, she was already all bleeding. I was with her on the ambulance ride. Thank God it was nothing serious though.” Lizzie told the woman next to her.

“Yeah and you end up passing out from the motion sickness after the ride and from seeing my blood. You looked paler than I was.” You chuckle from the memory so does Lizzie with a small smile, looking at you. “Well, can you blame me? I never knew the ambulance ride was gonna be that rough plus you bled quite a lot.” Lizzie replies. “It was embarrassing, I woke up on the emergency bed next to hers.” She turns her head to her left and tells her more about what happened. “Really? I bet after that y/n took her turn and got worried about you?” Katie responds with a smile shortly before you called her to come and see the outfit. Then Lizzie looks away to a random spot trying to stop all the memories of how you always worry about her, how much you cared about her. All voices around her sound muffled.

“Uh Lizzie? It’s your turn now.” Claire’s voice brought Lizzie’s attention back. “Oh yeah, okay.” She answers as she stands up. “Well, I think I’m going to wait outside and maybe look around for a bit.” Katie decided to give Lizzie some privacy. “Wait for me, I’m coming with you, Katie.” You told the older woman as your eyes aimed for your clothes.

“I’m sorry y/n, you still have one more outfit to try.” Claire quickly informs you before you get ready to leave. “Oh okay. I guess I’ll see you when I’m done.” You agree in defeat and give Katie a little wave. “I’ll see you outside.” She replies and winks at you.

You put on your shirt then sit on the couch waiting for your turn. Your eyes keep glancing up to the woman you used to love in front of you. “Uh Liz, this outfit already has bra pads in it so you can take off your bra for this.” Claire explains.

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard what Claire said and Lizzie’s voice agreed to it. You tried to lock your stare onto the floor and it only worked for a minute. Just like a strong pull from a massive magnet, your eyes are dragged up to see her. Your mind tries to command your eyes to look away but it is all in vain. You are glued to the view of Lizzie unclasping her bra. You see her bare back facing you then she slides both straps of her shoulders. You clench both of your hands nervously, your legs start gently but rapidly bouncing on the spot as the result of feeling awkward and there it is, your eyes find their way to the reflection from the full body mirror in front of Lizzie that clearly shows the view of her naked front. You feel heat creeping up all over your face, you look down. Just like that, you gave up. You stand up and walk out in a rush. Lizzie heard the door, and then her eyes quickly searched for you only to be disappointed to find out that you walked out.

As soon as you closed the door, you rested your back on the wall next to the door. You lay your head back on the wall. The view that you just saw brings every single memory in split seconds not just the good ones but also the bad ones. You are so affected by the bad memories, anxiety starts to swirl around you, slowly wrapping you like a cocoon. All the pain and sadness from your relationship with her starts to beat your mind, body, and even crush your soul all over again. You try to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “You are okay, y/n. Remember how far you’ve come since you left that day. This is nothing. You are okay.” You whisper to yourself with your eyes shut.

After five minutes standing outside, you are finally back to your calm state. You take another deep breath before you knock on the door and you slowly walk in as soon as you hear her say "Come in."

"Y/n? Why did you knock? You could've just come in. Where did you go?" She told you right after she saw it was you. "Oh--I uh I just wanted to give you some privacy." You answer and go straight to the couch to avoid looking at her. "Oh.." She doesn't know how to respond to what you said.

After another fifteen minutes, Lizzie is done with her turn. Claire told her that she is good to go but of course she stays for you, for her chance to finally talk with you.

You finally did your last wardrobe fitting. "Okay, y/n, you are done. Everything looks good. I'll see you both soon." Claire bids her farewell and leaves the room.

Lizzie watches your every move as you put on your clothes and collects your belongings. She doesn't know what to say but gathers herself to finally say something. "Your coffee,uh, that 's not how you usually have it. Were you just trying to be nice to her or you just didn't want me to be right about it?" She internally curses herself on how she starts the conversation.

She stands behind you waiting for you to say something. You look at her with disbelief and get confused with her malicious comment. "Things change, Elizabeth." Your answer was flat and cold as you turned your back on her again and got your things. Her heart aches from how you use her first name.

"Just like how you call me by my first name now?" She answers as she tries to ignore her pain. You turn around in annoyance but your heart skitters as you see your promise ring again, hanging between her collarbone and her chest that almost makes you speechless. "Why does it matter, Liz?" You answer her question with another question in exasperation, looking away from the necklace but your eyes are addicted to her. You look up to her green eyes.

You see her eyebrows furrowed in sadness. "It does matter, y/n. Only strangers call me by my first name. You know that. Is this how you try to remind me that we are not together anymore? That we are strangers? Let me tell you, y/n. It doesn't work. We are not strangers. You will never be a stranger to me." She rants, the more she talks the shakier her voice becomes. Her muscles tensed. She quivers with indignation. Sorrow shredded her inside. She looks away for a little bit then locks her gaze back at yours. Her eyes gleamed

You scoffed. "Oh really, Liz? Then how come in the last year of our relationship I felt like we were total strangers?" You answer slowly with gritted teeth. Her breath hitched, your response cut her deep. "Yeah, you heard me. That was exactly how I felt, Liz." You add then end it with calling her nickname with a sarcastic tone to prove her the irony of everything she said. You could hardly move, you gave up on trying to look away from her. You intently look at her.

She swallows hard and blinks a few times without letting you go off her sigh. Her heart wrenches. She knows it was all her fault for letting everything fall apart in the relationship to the point that you left her.

Being a kind and sweet person you are and like it or not, you can't look at her being sad. Your exasperation starts to evaporate. You take a deep breath and talk with a softer tone.

"Look, Liz.." You pause. Lizzie closes her eyes for a few seconds and cherishes your voice calling her name. If she could ask you to say her name over and over again, she would. She opens her eyes again, looking at you.

"I didn't know that you got a role in this movie. All I--" You got interrupted by a question she pitched at you in a low voice. "What would you do--" Before Lizzie can finish her question, you instantly cut her off with your question.. "What would I do what, Liz?"

"What would you do if you knew I got a role in this movie? Would you refuse it because I'm in it?" She asks you in a shaky voice. Anticipating your answer is killing her. You didn't expect her question.

"Whether I knew or not, you already accepted this role and so did I, okay? All I want--" You still try to keep yourself to talk in a calm manner, but she interrupts you one more time.

"So you would?" She asks you, despair written all over her face.

"Oh my God, Liz. I don't know, okay?! Would you??" You shook your head as you answered. Your annoyance flares, your tone slips and slightly rises but not that loud for people to hear it from outside of the room.

Lizzie flinches from your question at the end of your answer. Her heart slowly beats in agony because of it. She bites the inside of her cheeks. Both her brain and her heart force her tongue to not answer you and it hurts her. She knows her own answer will hurt her.

You stand there, you intently lock your gaze with her and she helplessly lets her gaze caught by you. You subconsciously wait for her answer. Silence dominates everything at this point. It’s undeniably deafening. Her brows drew together. Sorrow and torment scream silently when she slightly opens her lips to say something but once again, she is betrayed by her own body, no words make its way out of her lips. You are fighting the urge to ask her again because you know you don’t need her answer, at least that’s what your brain is secretly trying to convince your heart about.

You know she is trying to hold back her tears. She swallows the despair away but it quickly floats to her heart. It stings, it hurts and this is all too much for her to bear on the second time she sees you after a while . In one blink she did, a drop of tear escaped her eyes as her head slowly facing down. You see her fidgeting with her promise ring in her finger and of course it reminds you that she wears yours close to her heart. It cracks your heart that you've been trying to mend its pieces in the past one and a half years. You always hated it when she cried, surprisingly you still hate it today. Should you be surprised about it? You don’t know anymore.

You take one deep heavy breath to regain your heart foundation. You awkwardly take a step closer to her and start to speak softly. “Look, Liz. Like I said earlier, it doesn’t matter what the answer is. You took the role in this movie, so did I. I just want us to be focused on it, NOT our past, as we should. I’m sure that you know that’s what we are supposed to do now…” You pause and swallow the lump in the back of your throat to internally convince yourself that it’s okay to say the next thing you are going to say.

“And if you can do it, we can get coffee after this. Maybe to discuss work or our scripts.” You cleared your throat. She wipes her tears off her cheeks before she lifts her head up slowly so it won’t be too obvious that it actually catches her attention. She is actually surprised that you invited her for a coffee after this small argument both of you just had.

She slides both of her hands in her back pocket and stands nervously. Her feet start to shift randomly. “Uh, y-yeah. Sure.” If she can be honest to you right now, she doesn’t even know what to feel now. Her glance starts to jump to one random spot then to another but back to you. She feels like she is on a roller coaster ride but she can’t scream no matter how much she wants to.

“But Liz..” She hears your voice and it stops her pondering mind as she looks at you confused with what are you going to say. “Huh?”

“Just don’t leave me hanging like last time.” You smirk, knowing that she for sure gets what you meant, she is embarrassed of what she did to you that night. She doesn’t even have a chance to answer your remarks, you walk out of the room. She can barely move for a moment, her knees weakened. She slowly sits down, head hangs down and her hands cover her face. Then she whispers to herself the answer to her own question that she didn’t say earlier. “I would refuse the role if I knew, y/n.” She takes a deep breath then quickly stands up and walks out to see you outside.

Her eyes search for you as soon as she gets outside. She finds you smoking and talking to Katie. She doesn’t mind that you talk to her but as soon as she sees her touch your arms and lean on you, jealousy thunders through her. Her hand squeezes into a fist. Her blood rushed faster instantly as the result of her heart beating faster.

You take notice that Lizzie is starring and you tell Katie that you will see her tomorrow. She sweetly agrees and bids you farewell. She softly kisses your cheeks before she says bye to Lizzie. All Lizzie manages to do is just patching a forced half smile and a small wave to Katie but her glare never stops following her as she leaves until you break the staring contest between her and Katie’s back.

“So, where are you taking me now, Liz?” You tease her and get her caught off guard, not having any idea where to take you. “Oh– Um.. I–I” She stuttered.

“I’m just joking with you, I know a nice place. So, come on.” You gesture your head to the direction you want her to walk to. Lizzie lets out an awkward laugh, gently hits the back of her hand to your arm then shifts her steps to follow you to the car. Her heart is pounding, she feels heat spreads all over her body but mainly she is nervous.

Ch. 5 - Unspoken Questions

A/N: Well, that's it for today's daily dose of angst, folks! Let me know what you think. Your reblog and comments are appreciated. Follow us for more! See you in next!

Cheerio!

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[etherealeeknow]

the fwb rules

• rated m for mature

• pairing: fwb!hyunjin x fem!reader

• wc: 4.559

• tw: explicit language, light characterization of an insecure reader, unprotected piv sex (stay safe, lovelies!), fingering & oral (f), nipple play, cream pie— i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: last time i said long fic isn’t my forte and this time i’ll still say the same hahahahaha. but still, i hope i don’t disappoint 🥺 please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes. feedbacks are always appreciated because i’d love to grow! thank you for waiting and enjoy 💞 pretty banner made by my bestie!! ilysm 😽😽😽

• tag list: @charlieshelves @es-kay-zee @formidxble @oh-my-sparkle @bobateastay @http-hyxnjxn @lyralurexrattle @hyunsluvv @healinghyunjin @sailorhyunjinz

—

what happened to the rules?

it didn’t start off like this. you can’t remember when exactly you started wondering about the five word question. all you know is that you were one bite away from gobbling a spoonful of jisung’s ice cream when it struck you: since when did you and hyunjin stop going by the rules? he’s been occasionally texting you out of the blue lately just to know what you’re up to, and today he even asked you to stay the night at his, and as much as you want to believe they’re all normal, again, it didn’t start off like this. from the beginning, you and hyunjin have come up with three rules so your relationship can work: one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking. but look at you now, lying naked and out of breath under his blanket while facing his ceiling, driving yourself insane over the haunted question. you have to get it off your chest somehow, but how? 

“hey, why so serious?” asks the culprit behind your overthinking, causing you to jump slightly over his sudden appearance and your hands instinctively pull up the blanket to cover your naked chest, which as a result, makes him chuckle. cute. “here. it’s my cousin’s,” adds the topless man as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you a white shirt that even under the dim light, you can already tell won’t fit you.

“your cousin? the model? hyunjin, she’s tiny,” you utter, hands still gripping onto the blanket. “i’m—“

“you,” he cuts you off, placing a hand on top of yours while carefully glancing at you to make sure you there aren’t any signs of discomfort. “are fine, y/n. now hurry up. i’m sleepy,” he adds before letting go, leaving behind a lingering warmth on your knuckles.

nodding, you turn your back on him to change, and the room falls silent, causing you to hear how fast your heart is thumping even more than it should have. is it because you had too much coffee this morning? or it can probably be because the shirt is too tight that it’s cutting off your air circulation, right? right, of course. you tell yourself because as much as you dislike both reasons, they are still far better than having hyunjin as the cause.

once you’re done, hyunjin already has his back lying against the bedhead, his head tilting slightly to the side, avoiding the light coming from the night lamp on the bedside table, while his eyes bore deeply into yours. unbothered that he’s been caught staring, he averts his gaze downwards till they reach your chest and spot how your nipples are sticking out through the thin fabric.

“see? it fits you just fine,” he says, turning his vision back to your face as he opens his arms and motions them at you, only to have you remain in the same position with your increasing heartbeat.

“aren’t you gonna, uh, wear something?”

instead of a proper answer, all you get is his laugh—hyunjin’s contagious laugh that usually always succeeds in making you laugh too. but today hits differently. has his laugh always sounded this lighthearted before? no matter what the answer is, one thing for sure is that despite how sweet hwang hyunjin and his laugh are, they have never made your cheeks burn like this before, and this is forbidden. it’s against the rules.

“an hour ago we were naked while sucking each other’s face, y/n,” he finally answers after a while. “besides, i always sleep like this. now, come on,” he adds, repeating the same gesture, except this time his hands are open wider, eager to have you near him again because the space around him is starting to make him feel lonely.

complying with him, you fall into his embrace and hyunjin immediately lets his hands travel to the exact places of where they want to be—one around your head and the other around your waist. despite the room turning less cold with his warmth directly passing onto you, your heart and cheeks conditions remain the same especially since you can hear how hyunjin’s heartbeats are beating just as fast as yours when he lets you lay your head on his chest.

“hyunjin,” you call out, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt.

“y/n,” he replies, replacing the collar with his fingers instead, intertwining them with yours.

what happened to the rules?

“do... do fwb do these?” you ask, the bravery in you finally decide to show up, even just for a little.

“do this?” he asks back while squeezing your hand with all his might, as if he’s nervous.

no. not ‘this’, but ‘these’. not only the hand grabbing, but also the fact that he asked you to stay the night, that he’s cuddling you to sleep, and that you’ve been getting unusual symptoms over them until this very moment.

“yes, this,” you nod and hyunjin becomes muted, but his heartbeats are growing louder, and his grip on you has become tighter.

after what feels like forever, he whispers, voice slightly cracking, and hands getting a little colder, “yes. yes, they do.”

then the two of you become muted, but both heartbeats keep growing louder, and everything stays that way until sleep eventually takes over.

—

as a homebody, you’ve always against the idea of sleepovers. you believe home is the sweetest place and your own bed is the comfiest even when your mattress is older than a decade and your favorite plushie has had too many holes here and there. but waking up in hyunjin’s bed has broken your stigma—never in your whole life that you’d have thought someone else’s bed can provide you twice the comfort.

“looks like someone had a good sleep,” chirps jisung as he sits beside you, causing you to wipe off the smile on your face before going back to your laptop.

“wow suddenly my best friend’s a psychic?”

“hey, that’d actually make a great drama title!” he exclaims and you roll your eyes. “please do spill the tea though. what happened?” he adds.

“what happened?” you ask back, eyes still on the screen, but the corner of your lips are on the verge of breaking into the smile, knowing full well he’ll complain—which he does by lamely calling you a meanie.

laughing, you tell him nothing happened, but the way he rolls his eyes is a sign he’s not taking any of your bullshit. you are telling the truth though. besides spending the night with each other, nothing really happened, right? it was just another casual fucking session. yes, it was amazing, but that’s no news for jisung. the guy’s practically your wingman—setting you up with hyunjin was his idea because he believes you should, “live your life. have that dreamy college sex orelse you’ll regret it like my old man changbin!”

right on cue, a notification popped out on your big screen, and the sender’s name makes your heart pop too.

“aha, see!” jisung points at it. “y/n, where are you?” he reads out loud, earning yourselves all the eyes from every other student in class.

“oh my god, jisung. shut up!” right when you’re about to log out from the chat app, hyunjin sends another one.

“can i call you?” jisung reads once more and you’re only one second away from smacking his head, but your vibrating phone holds you back.

shooting jisung a glare, you make sure to close your laptop before leaving the class, answering hyunjin’s call even when you’re still half way through the door. right when you’re about to greet him hello, hyunjin beats you to it—his voice a bit raspy, but the softness in his tone still lies within, and it creates endless questions in your mind.

has he just woken up? so is this how he sounds in the morning? why is he calling?

and the list goes on because this isn’t like hyunjin at all. sure, he’s not validating the rules, but he’s breaking his character despite already alarming you to anticipate morning booty calls from him at times. he’s never actually done that though. 

“hi,” you reply, startling yourself with how small your voice came out.

“you left,” says hyunjin and you can hear him sighing from the other line, which somehow causes a slight pang in your heart, wondering if perhaps he is disappointed. “can you come back? wait, actually, let me go to you instead.” he says and you can hear the rustling sounds coming from his side.

“hyunjin, i have class. that’s why i left. i—” should you apologize? but why should you? casual, no strings attached, and no fucks given, remember? “i’m sorry.”

“oh.” hyunjin stops on his track before plopping back down onto the bed, smiling. “i’ll pick you up after class then. when will you finish?”

unconsciously, a smile creeps up your face too, but the realization hits you right after, then followed by the five word question, and you know—you know this is your guts telling you that now’s the time to ask him about it, but your heart hates confrontation. plus, wouldn’t it be rude to reply to someone else’s question with a question? “hyunjin, are you, uh, horny?”

just like yesterday, hyunjin laughs, and with the raspiness in his voice still present, he doesn’t fail to make you laugh along, but at the same time waking the butterflies in your stomach and makes you rethink your decision. mayhaps, you should’ve left him a note or told him that you’ll leave early in the morning; or even, you should’ve ditched classes today and stayed so when he wakes up, you can get him a glass of water, not leaving the boy uncared for like this. but who are you to do so? 

“isn’t it normal for a guy to have a morning wood?” he jokes before quickly adding that he’s not horny. “i just want to see you so let me go get you.”

pressing your lips together, you contemplate on whether you should let him. if you do, won’t you be turning whatever the two of you have right now into something far more complicated? but it’s only until hyunjin adds a desperate “please?” that all of your dilemma disappears, as if you’re being cast into his spell—“okay.”

—

while heading to the gate, you have the biggest urge to book a massage appointment. dodging jisung’s questions and running away from him after the first period was draining, but having to spend the day running back and forth between two buildings because thinking that volunteering as the lecturers’ teaching assistant was draining on a whole new level. other than feeling like your legs are gonna come off, your mind also feels like it’s gonna blow off—you can’t stop recalling all the things you need to start working on as soon as possible, but stepping into hyunjin’s car turns everything to 180 degrees.

you’d like to think that it’s because of the faint lavender aroma coming from his car freshener along with the heavenly cool air conditioner, but no. you know full well it’s because of the way hyunjin’s smile lit up, his eyes disappear into two small crescent moons, and his blonde hair which is becoming one with the warm orange sky that brings peace to your heart.

“hi,” he breathes out the moment you close the door, and you do the same except for looking at him, which causes hyunjin to furrow his eyebrows while speeding away.

the way home is silent, just the way you like it, but you know full well that it’s not hyunjin’s cup of tea. he doesn’t need to say it, his action is showing it all as he’s been fidgeting non stop, wiping his sweaty palm along his jeans while occasionally licking his plump lips. hyunjin’s a very vocal person. he’s talkative and loud—including in bed. you press your warm cheeks over the realization of your own thoughts, embarrassed. you can’t possibly suspect hyunjin for being horny in the morning when you yourself are being like this in the afternoon. it’s uncalled for.

noticing you from the corner of his eye, hyunjin calls out, asking you if there’s anything wrong, totally catching you off guard. what should you say? lying is not your forte, but being honest clearly isn’t the best option right now, at least, not before you shower and appear presentable in front of him—but wait, since when did that matter so much? a few months ago, you even fucked after you ran a marathon.

“y/n?” calls hyunjin for the second time.

“look, hyunjin, really, it’s okay if you’re horny. you can pull over and i can, uh, relieve you and i can just take the bus home after,” you spit out shamelessly while looking at him straight in the eyes, eager to get far away from hyunjin as fast as possible before you go out of your mind.

just like the night before, hyunjin laughs. and just like the night before, his laugh hits differently and it does nothing other than burning your already burnt cheeks for the worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, i’m not horny. i genuinely want to take you home. nothing more,” explains hyunjin, head straight at the road but eyes repeatedly stealing glances at you. “and nothing less,” he adds, voice barely audible but you caught it.

“o— oh.” is all you manage to respond before the ride quickly turns quiet and hyunjin’s hands begin fidgeting again, all the while you’re trying to decode what he has just said—what does he mean by genuinely wanting to take you home? do fwb do this too? what happened to no fucks given?—and it goes on until hyunjin hits the break in front of your old apartment building.

“we’re here,” says hyunjin, breaking the silence by unlocking the car door.

“we’re here,” you repeat after him, already opening the door and setting a foot out. “uh, thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” hyunjin shoots you his signature smile the moment you lower yourself to meet his eye level from outside the car; this time, you have no choice but to fall under his spell.

“hey, uh, you wanna come in?” you ask, biting your lower lip as a way to punish yourself for being so indecisive. one second you want to run away from him and the next second you want to be near him. come on, get a grip.

as if the punishment isn’t enough, hyunjin declines your offer, all while chuckling with his head thrown back. “for the third time, y/n. i’m not horny. go in and rest up.” 

“if you say so.” you shrug, giving him a small smile before turning around, making sure not to look back, only to fail when you hear the engine driving away.

—

you can’t quite tell—no, you can’t tell. you don’t get it. there’s an unexplainable empty space in your heart that is caused by hyunjin’s rejection. is it because you’re just not used to see him without having to fuck him? or is it because you’re hurt over the fact that he’s not in the mood to touch you? is it because of last night? is he finally sick of your flaws? things would probably be different if you had retouched your makeup or at least combed your hair before seeing him, would they? either way, you’re fully aware you shouldn’t be torn over your friend with benefits, yet your aching heart says otherwise.

and so when the doorbell rings only a few seconds after you get in and the figure you see through the peephole is no other than the man in question, you spare no time to swing the door open. hyunjin, in return, spares no time to lock his lips with yours right after he utters a brief apology. just like the way hyunjin sneaks his playful hands down your ass, you sneak your tongue in his mouth, and your action makes him smile into the kiss as he leads you back into the room and kicks the door shut with his long legs.

the way to your bedroom is actually pretty short, but with your tongues moving in sync, bodies pressing—glued, even, and eyes continuously closing in pleasure, the short way to your bedroom consists of endless stumbling, tripping, and bumping the door. once inside, you break the kiss and are about to undress yourself when hyunjin beats you to it, settling you down on the bed as he begins taking off your attire one by one ever so effortlessly. and in just a matter of seconds, his lips are back on yours again, floral scented hair falling and brushing against your cheeks, leaving you no time to wonder over the fact that it’s the first time hyunjin has ever undressed you. 

as the kiss continues, you can feel yourself gushing more and more that you start grinding on him mindlessly, needing to feel more than just his bulge poking you. your hands leave his blonde strands to tug on his hoodie, only to have him stop you—one hand around your grip and the other rests on your hip.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“need you. need to feel you,” you mumble, desperation so visible through your cracked voice. 

“what happened to the girl who was all flustered to sleep with me last night just because i was shirtless?”

autumn nights aren’t supposed to be hot, but hyunjin has proven he has the power to make the impossible happen just with his words and mocking smirk. but the rising heat on your cheeks is nothing compared to the emptiness you feel below, clenching around nothing surely isn’t the best feeling.

“please, jinnie,” you whine, tugging on his hoodie once more, hips moving against his hold.

“fuck.” is all he manages to say before getting off the bed to disrobe himself—hoodie and track pants thrown across the room, now showcasing his toned body and thighs altogether as he hovers over you.

“please take this off too. it looks suffocating,” you say, index finger running faintly through the bulge forming from his tight boxer, making it stand up even more and hyunjin has no choice but to obey you. “put your hair up too please,” you add just when he’s about to dive right back in, and again, your wish is his command.

biting to pull off his hair tie from his wrist, hyunjin smoothly ties his hair back and you’re only given a few seconds to admire his feature before his plump lips coming in contact with your hardened nipple while he toys with the other using his fingers—rubbing and pinching, making your breath hitch over the sensation, fingers digging into his bare shoulders because you don’t want to mess up his hair, and hyunjin’s low grunts pretty much indicate he’s loving it.

“more, please. give me m—”

hyunjin retreats his hand and tongue away from your breast, moving them to your naked pussy,  drawing circles on your outer labia with his middle finger. he teases you just enough and quickly slides in his digit and at the same time sucks on your clit right before you’re about to complain, making you tingle from head to toe.

“you hear that?” he asks, voice muffled, the effect of being too tongue tied from licking every part of your heat, but finger working its magic perfectly, creating loud wet noises from your fluid. “drenched. my pretty y/n is drenched,” says hyunjin, and as much as you want to comment on him for the pet name, you’re too caught up on how his lips vibrate against you the moment he starts palming himself with his unoccupied hand. if he keeps it up, you know you would come undone there and then, and you don’t want that—not yet. so you ask him to stop and he instantly does as told.

“what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” there’s fear written across his expression and heard from his tone, but you’d like to believe your eyes and lips are just playing tricks on you.

“n— no. i just,” you pause to avoid his gazes, but something within you pulls your attention back on him. “i wanna cum with you inside me,” you confess, voice barely audible due to embarrassment; all this time, it’s always been hyunjin to say such things, but perhaps, all the strange tension lately has finally gotten the best of you. you hear him mutter a low “fuck” while his pupils shakes for a brief moment before they somehow appear a shade darker. licking his lower lip, hyunjin pulls you by your legs and rests them on his shoulders, and proceeds to align his tip with your entrance, once again teasing your throbbing core.

the moment you whine is the moment hyunjin pushes himself inside ever so gently, but the stretching still has you throwing your head back, while hyunjin letting our airy moans upon your walls clenching around him. none of you can tell how it’s possible for your vagina to remain so tight after all the countless fucking session for the past half year, but hyunjin doesn’t find that troubling. in fact, he lives for that and it shows from the way his eyes roll to the back of his head as he begins thrusting in and out of you—slowly but steady, veiny hands secured on your hips, vision goes back and forth from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

hyunjin leans down to kiss you for a couple of seconds, and when he lets go, he quickens his pace—leaning down once more so his length can go deeper in you, hitting your g-spot. at that very moment, you mentally praise yourself for placing the bedroom mirror right across the bed. it presents you with the magnificent view of hyunjin’s rounded, firm ass bouncing rhythmically whenever he snaps his hips, and placing your hands around them, squeezing them, nearly makes you drool over the sight. with hyunjin constant thrusts, the familiar knot in your abdomen starts to bubble up.

“oh my god,” the two of you whimper in unison as hyunjin begins to lose his tempo, moves also grow sloppy, but never once misses your spot.

“y/n, i— ah— i’m so close. fuck,” he breathes out, sweat forming on his forehead, wetting his baby hair down to his neck and chest, and you can only drool helplessly at the sight.

“me too. please cum inside me, cum with me, hyunjin, please, please,” you beg, voice a pitch higher, almost sounds like you strain your throat, and it stays the same. when you feel hyunjin twitch inside you, your hands automatically reach for the bed sheet again, but it only lasts for a second before they’re being taken by hyunjin’s own hands—he has never done this. while intertwining your fingers, his cock twitches again and his eyes roll to the back of his head, jaw falls open as he calls out your name—you naturally do the same, fingers pressing flat against his white knuckles

“hyu—”

“cum, baby,” he cuts you off, averting his hazy eyes on you, and that’s all it takes for you to break—your orgasm washes over you like waves and you cum undone around hyunjin, shaking and mewling altogether while feel the wet coldness around your inner thigh. hyunjin follows right after, shooting his hot cement inside of you; the man can no longer keep his eyes open as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, his choked moans bring music right to your ear all a while his hot breaths bring goosebumps to your unrecovered body.

after riding out your highs, none of you move. hyunjin stays on top of you, his chest rises and falls according to your hard breathing. somehow, it’s calming you down, but it shouldn’t.

“hyunjin, you’re heavy.”

“oh, sorry,” he chuckles and even without looking, you can tell his eyes are smiling too. with his remaining strength, hyunjin pushes himself up and rests on your thighs to pull his dick out of you, momentarily admiring the mixture of his juice and yours dripping down your cunt before fixing his eyes on you to study your face—also something he has never done before. 

“i’m sorry,” he mutters a few moments later, eyes now on you.

tilting your head, you sit up, resting your upper body with your hands on the bed. “all of a sudden? i came? you always make me feel good.”

“that’s what i’m sorry about. i— i didn’t mean to— i mean, i—”

you reach out to him, gently patting his thigh. “hyunjin, calm down. this isn’t like you,” you whisper the last sentence, knowing that perhaps, now’s the time to talk things out, to stop whatever is going on, and go back to how things are used to be, maybe? your heart’s just been restless for too long and apparently, hyunjin seems to be in a similar situation too.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to keep using you like this. i genuinely meant what i said. i only wanted to take you home, but we ended up here and—”

“isn’t that what fwb do?” you pull your hand off his thigh, and a frown painted across his face as if he’s questioning your question. “that’s what we agreed on. we have our fwb rules, remember?”

“one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking,” says hyunjin, proving he has memorized every words to the back of his mind.

nodding, you carefully bring back your hand to his thigh, repeating the same movement you did before. “exactly. so you don’t have to be sorry. don’t worry, i’m not feeling used at all.” you end it with a smile.

hyunjin mirrors you, he smiles too; his eyes fall to where your hand is. “but what if i’m breaking them? the rules,” asks the boy whose cold hand is now on top of your warm one. “what if i like you?” his eyes find their way back to you, and that’s when you know. the difference between your temperatures; the difference between your smile and his—the sadness that lies within.

that’s when you understand. everything finally makes sense; every one of hyunjin’s unusual acts. the constant texts and calls, the undressing, the pet names, the facial expression, the hand holding.

what happened to the rules? feelings. that’s what happened. to hyunjin, it’s his feelings over the rules.

but you, what about you? the butterflies, the irregular increasing heartbeats, the flushing cheeks, the overthinking, the disappointment at some point.

“y/n,” hyunjin calls out and you don’t get to get back to him because he’s already an inch away from you, momentarily eyeing your lips before he closes the distance. once again, his blonde hair falls down, brushing against his cheek before meeting yours and it tickles you, but not in the same way as how his kiss tickles your heart; giddy.

what happened to the rules? unwanted feelings. that’s what happened. to you, it’s the unwanted feelings against the rules. and for now, the unwanted feelings are too strong for you to push him away, so you pull him close instead. for now.

—

gen’s masterlist

repeating this!! special note: HUGE THANK YOU for my awesome bestie for the banner 🥺💞💞 ily, bish!! thank you for being my beta reader too 😽😽😽

[yandere-sins]

One More

Genshin makes my imagination vibrate pleasantly. I just want to give Kaeya a reason to make me go “Oh?” cause he’s not even my one of my favs. But the sheer sex appeal coming from that man is dangerous.

Characters: Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact) x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Groping, Innuendos, Alcohol, Aphrodisiacs, Insults

»»———————— ♡ ————————««        

“Hey there, Sweetheart. What’s bringing you to the tavern so late at night?”

You had barely entered Angel’s Share and sat down at the bar before hearing the ever-so chipper voice of the cavalry captain drawing closer. There was nothing strange about meeting Kaeya here after a long day of work, but you and Charles exchanged a glance, the bartender sighing deeply. “I’ve only served him two drinks so far,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but think that was already one too many. 

But who were you to say no to the Kaeya?

Perhaps better than anyone, Kaeya knew about the little game you two were playing. The always so icy shoulder you gave him as he continued to pressure you with his flirts was only making him want you so much more. You couldn’t count the number of times he had stopped you in the headquarters, pinned you between him and the wall - in broad daylight nonetheless - asking how you’re doing and if you need help with anything. You. Were. Sick of it! If he wanted a child to play father for, he could ask Klee to hang out with him! You, on the other hand, were a remarkable knight, trusted enough with complicated orders that - luckily! - kept you out of the city for a prolonged time so you could avoid him. 

It only was hard when you weren’t on duty. Or in the city. Or close to him. 

That’s when he became frisky, rather needy too.

Kaeya brushed his face from the left side of your head to the right, taking a deep breath. If it wasn’t known that you two reached back all the way to your training days, anyone would have raised an eyebrow. But most of the other guards were able to brush off his weirdness for affectionate friendship. It was almost like only you could see behind the farce, and perhaps his estranged brother. Not like Diluc had been any help to you, though, aside from breaking Kaeya off you once or twice when he was around and noticing your discomfort.

Taking up the stool beside you, there was no prior question if the seat was taken. A rather empty keg arrived with Kaeya at the bar, and he briefly tapped the rim until Charles fished for another bottle of alcohol to fill it up with. One could say Kaeya and a drink were a good mix, but to you, they were a terrible combination. Drinking made him bold. Unrestrained even. 

Even though he offered his keg to you, you merely looked away, sipping at your own glass, one you much rather preferred to the brew he drank his night away with. Grinning, he instead took a hearty sip, leaning against the counter leisurely as he watched the bards perform near the entrance, but you didn’t miss even a single glance he sent your way every few seconds. 

It was very unfortunate that you liked Angel’s Share for its drinks best; otherwise, you’d have had a good reason to avoid the establishment. But at the same time, you couldn’t let Kaeya direct all of your life. It was no state that you shouldn’t do what you enjoyed just because he could be there, and yet, you considered it. 

“So, how was your mission? I’ve been missing your skills at training.”

“It was fine,” you answered curtly, uninterested in the conversation he initiated. There weren’t many people you talked to when you came back to Mondstadt. Somehow… it had always been hard for you to make friends with the other knights. Part of you suspected Kaeya being a reason why no one seemed to want to hang around, forcing you to spend most of your training with him since no one was willing to spar with you. Then again, you never had any evidence to confirm your suspicion, just like with many other phenomena you experienced over the years.

More than once had there been instances where your orders had been withdrawn just when you came close to solving the problems, often with the excuses that you were still too inexperienced or needed somewhere else. It had been so hard to raise in the ranks while Kaeya seemed to make leaps forward without a worry, but at least, you managed to secure your place now--one far away from the cavalry captain.

Sighing, Kaeya turned around to face the counter again, plopping his arm around your shoulders. Uncomfortably, you rolled your joints, but he instead pulled you closer to him, the smell of alcohol drafting off his lips as he spoke. “No need to play coy. You know you can tell me the truth. Didn’t you miss being home? I’m sure cleaning up those camps must have been exhausting!”

Missed being with me? seemed to be the words he wanted to say, but he packaged them in a way he knew they’d actually affect you. Kaeya had always been clever enough to poke the places that hurt. Of course, you missed home. You’d miss it more if not for him, but you had your family here, your siblings and parents that you’d like to see more often. But there was no chance with how much Kaeya liked to interfere in it. As if he was already part of your family, inviting himself and always showing up unannounced to hang out.

“‘Twas okay,” you replied after a moment of thought. 

“Well, I missed you,” he chuckled before taking another sip of his keg. “I missed you sooo much!”

That was enough for you, brushing his arm off roughly before turning on your stool to leave. You knew even finding another space to sit wouldn’t spare you from him, and if you ended up in a less crowded area, you didn’t want to imagine what he’d do. “Aw, come on,” you heard behind you as he gripped your arm, making you stop. “I get it, I get it, you’re tired. But you can’t be tired enough not to drink one more with your old pal, right?”

With his voice rising in volume, you two finally gained some attention, and you instantly felt a rush of embarrassment as you stared into quite a few pairs of perplex eyes. Kaeya might have been eccentric, but he was well-liked nonetheless. Causing a scene had never worked well for you, and since you were already deemed an outsider, you’d only catapult yourself more into the shadows if any rumors spread after you left. 

Clicking your tongue, you tore yourself out of his grip before sitting back on your chair again, holding up your finger. “One more. Only one more.”

“Of course,” Kaeya grinned, getting his will once again. “Only one.”

»»————— ♡

Hot lips brushing against each other, you had no better way to describe your state of being other than burning. For someone so cool and with an icy skill, Kaeya was not even close to being cold and reserved when it came to touching you. With a smile displayed on his mouth whenever he wasn’t using it to tease you, you could barely remember how you two ended up making out in one of the backstreets of Mondstadt. His hands were seemingly everywhere, and at the same time, lingered at the spots that created an audible cue from you when he squeezed them. 

“You’re so sensitive,” he noted as you hung in his arms, hands currently squeezing your ass from your thighs upwards. “That’s good, I like that.”

“Fucker,” you merely cursed back. “You only said one more drink! I feel like shit! What the hell was that?”

“On the contrary, you feel amazing,” he ignored your questions, pushing his leg between yours as he pressed you closer to the cold stone wall behind you. A welcome sensation, giving you back some of your senses as the chill helped to calm your heated body. “I fucking hate you, Kaeya,” you confessed drunkenly, but the time was as good as any to say it.

“Ouch,” he brushed it off with a chuckle. “Are you sure? Your body grinding against mine is giving me very different vibes, Darling.”

Next thing, he was back in your mouth, his tongue roaming and keeping yours busy as you slung your arms around him. “You’re so stupid and mean, always testing everyone. You’re probably the reason everyone is avoiding me too, and you don’t let off no matter how much I tell you to leave me alone!”

“Mhm,” he hummed as his lips wandered down your neck, making you stretch it out for him so he could reach better. “And now... I don’t even know! You drugged me?!” 

A soft laugh escaped him before you felt a suck at your collarbone, followed by the wet sensation of a tongue tasting your skin. “Bingo, Baby. Lisa really wanted to know what would happen if someone drank this potion and you were all too eager to get it down your throat-”

“To get away from you!” you interrupted him.

“Whatever.”

Finally, Kaeya came up on eye level again, the two of you staring at each other for a moment in silence. 

“Whatever?” you questioned, confused by his reaction. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think kissing you made me swallow at least, hm... half of it too. Even if we wanted to, we wouldn’t be able to stop now, don’t you think?” 

One of the most disgusting grins you had ever seen on the face of a person played around his lips as he pressed up to you, uniting you two in another kiss. Of course, you could stop it! You could, and you would right now. After all, you had allowed it to go on for far too long now! Pressing your hands into his shoulders, Kaeya let out a soft sigh against your lips, his uncovered eye closed as he enjoyed the affection. “One more,” he mumbled as he kissed you again and again, feverishly and impatiently. “I’ve been waiting forever to do this.”

With the excitement of a teenage boy, his hands roamed your body, pulling out the shirt from your trousers to lodge themselves beneath it. Skillful fingertips drew patterns over your skin, up your spine, and down your sides until you were gasping and shivering in his grasp. “Good,” he sighed against your lips, unbothered by you still trying to push him away, only ever flinching as he groped you. “Don’t you already know it? How much you drive me crazy? It’s only fair I drive you crazy too.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about--” you tried to contradict him. But Kaeya was quick to muffle your voice with another deep kiss. Intentionally or not, he met one of your sensitive spots as he explored you, causing a hitched moan to escape you, followed by a satisfied grunt from him. “I’ve been waiting for so long, I can’t have you take it from me now,” he breathed out huskily. 

“I’ll scream!” you threatened him. “Let me go now, Kaeya!”

“Ah-ah,” he rebuked you, one of his hands being freed of groping-duty to cover your mouth. “No one’s going to take you away from me now either. Come one, be good, okay?”

Waiting for the right moment, Kaeya couldn’t endure your angry stare for very long before falling into soft laughter. “All right, all right,” he chuckled before leaning forward brushing his lips against his hand. “One more kiss, okay? I will leave you alone after that.”

Furrowing your brows even more, he interpreted you shaking your head as a ‘no’, letting out a long, “Aww…” 

“Only one more, pretty please?” 

You had to give it to him: persistency was something he didn’t lack. It felt like shooting into your own foot, but part of you just wanted it to be over. You two had kissed so much up till now; how much worse would one more be? And if he let you go afterwards, you could definitely endure it. Lifting up your hand to yank his from your mouth, Kaeya didn’t expect you to take the initiative, looking at you perplexed as you leaned forward to kiss him. No one ever taught you how to kiss, and without his directions, you weren’t actually sure on how any of it worked, but he didn’t seem to mind, humming a pleased tune before returning your awkward smooches.

When was a kiss one kiss? When the lips parted? After the first initial touch? Kaeya’s definition was two minutes of continuous connection between you two, only briefly drawing back for air but never without upholding the contact by biting and pulling on your lip or having your tongue following his out of your mouth into the cold night. He gripped your head tightly in his palms, not allowing you to get away. Only when he let go did you fall back hard against the wall as you two finally broke apart, and you hadn’t noticed how much he had held you up. 

The rich flavor of alcohol on your tongue and his scent in your nose didn’t help with getting a clear mind, but nothing about you made sense anymore. Now that he had let you fall back and away from him, you felt even hotter than before, your body clearly bothered by the lack of stimulation. What part of ‘I wanted none of this’ did you not understand yourself? At least by the throbbing in your abdomen, you could tell that whatever kind of potion he had given to you definitely wasn’t a fun experience, but all the more potent. 

“Hurts, huh?” he laughed across from you. “Oh, fuck off,” you mustered to say, but the pain was obvious by your expression. You were barely able to keep yourself up properly.

“I’d offer my help, but you made it clear you didn’t want it.” The situation must have been really funny to him, only agitating you more. If it at least hadn’t been Kaeya, you might have accepted help, but you knew you’d have to get yourself home now all by yourself in a state of constant heat with no way to resolve it. 

“You caused all of this! You should at least take responsibility without taking advantage of the situation!”

Pushing yourself away from the wall, you decided it was time to step away. There was no use in talking with Kaeya, but the moment your support dwindled, you noticed how wobbly your legs felt, barely capable of holding you up. What had you trained all these years for if a mere potion could make you so incredibly weak? Before you could get back to the wall, one knee gave away, making you sink to the ground where you could barely catch yourself with your hands. 

“It’s really working you hard, isn’t it?” you heard him speak down from above. Squatting to your level, you felt his hand slide through your hair before gripping and lifting your head to face him. “Tell you what: If you ask nicely, I’ll help you. Can’t promise you’ll wake up in your bed tomorrow morning, but a bed nonetheless, wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Fuck you,” you hissed back, and he shook his head, disappointed. 

“Try again.”

What choices did you have? Risk the little bit of reputation you still had by being found in the morning, disheveled and drunk from the night before? The knights absolutely hated anything that would ruin their pristine prestige, so much even you knew. You had worked so hard to get where you were, could you really risk all of it? “... please,” escaped you before you could think it through further. 

“What was that?” he teased you, and you wondered why he could still be so clear even after drinking much more than you did and having had a taste of the potion from your lips. “Please help me get home.”

This time, he laughed out loud, obviously amused by how pitiful you had to behave to please him. “One more time. Say it one more time, and say it nice.”

Frustrated, you wished you could have punched him in the face, but you only bit your lip, taking a deep breath before complying. “Please, Kaeya. I need your help to get home. Please help me home!”

Embarrassment was all you could think about as he conditioned you to do as he wanted, but finally, after you did what Kaeya demanded, he petted your head, leaning forward to kiss your forehead before reaching under your arms to pull you up. “Look at you, all cute and begging me for help.”

Quickly being lifted from the ground, you found your new halt by gripping into his shoulders tightly and wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you in front of him. “You’re so adorable!” he chuckled as you clung to him much more in fear of him letting you fall than because you wanted it. He seemed to have similar thoughts, giving you a bit of a scare as he let go of you, having you hang from him by only your own strength, which you didn’t trust anymore. But just as quickly, your horrified expression made him laugh, and he gave your rear a teasing slap. Lucky for you, Kaeya didn’t make you fear any longer, embracing you back and allowing you to sink against him more as he started to make his way through the streets of Mondstadt. From an onlooker’s point of view, it might have seemed like you jumped him out of joy, but really, you clung on as if your life depended on it while Kaeya seemingly enjoyed the hug.

“Just get me home, you Asshole,” you grumbled, but your insults didn’t do any damage to his good mood. “Sure, I’ll get you home,” he replied chipper, but you already had bad thoughts as you heard that.

“At least, the place I call ‘home’,” he confirmed your suspicion, and inwardly, you already admitted defeat even as you punched your fist into his shoulder. 

“You know how it is,” he brushed it off lightly, patting your backside while he climbed the stairs towards the headquarters with seemingly no effort. 

“I can never refuse you or leave you be. I adore you way too much.”