#I get too nervous to romance her because I be thinking to myself: oh my god what if I hurt her the way Shar did

[magicwithered]

Shadowheart is so traumatized in like a Catholic Way and it speaks to me on a fundamental level

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

pspspspspsps here kitty kitty kitty (Joking,... now you laugh) ....

Italian, Fem!Reader, that had traveled briefly to the village, to sell some books, movies, and whatnot -- just to grant the vilagers some sense of like.. the outside world? If that makes sense?

Reader, having already timed their escape, decides to go to that peculiar house up on the hill, across the bridge, before their departure, -- maybe the residents, who, Reader thought, was an old couple, or a very wealthy woman, .. maybe even one of those trust-fund families.. yes! Reader BET that the inhabitant of a place so grand would spend a pretty penny on some foreign knowledge.. maybe, Reader could even upsell. Yes! That would be enough to pay off Readers risky carriage fees.. (nervous laughter)

Reader, ignoring all darkness, all red flags and blatant signs of danger, because, well, Reader is very oblivious, and very optimistic, -- and, well, they barely know English, so, .. how would Reader know what the villagers say about the owner of said.. Oh-so large mansion? Pfft. As if.

'Oh.. its getting dark. Jeez, the trees sure do make this place gloomy!' 'Uhhhh.. why do i have a blaring sense of discomfort, nausea, unease, and a will of fright that makes my stomach churn with instinct to yeet myself the opposite direction? Oh, man, i knew i shouldnt have eaten that un-refrigerated fruit!'

Angie, if i remember that dollies name correctly, answers .. takes one look at Reader, in all of their 'Italian-beauty-standard-fitting', 'italian-book-carrying', 'Donna-language-speaking' glory (Donna language speaking because.. Italian. That was also a joke. Plz laugh), and immidiately, with that screechy voice calls Donna over

Donna fucking FAAAWNNNSSS over everything Reader has, buys their entire stock, then, out of pure gushy-ness, of how nostalgic, and amazing, and flavourful (meaning, how much stuff that Donna was desperately searching for, Reader has in stock) Readers 'for-sales' are, that she, spur-in-the-moment, ushurs Reader inside, makes them tea and whatnot,

well.. so much for Readers plan of escape. Poor bus-maid Reader hired, they thought, as they sat awkwardly beside the lady in black, veiled thickly, who was talking in Italian, since, well, Reader has little to no knowledge of english. Atleast shes also Italian. Thats nice. Wait.. why does Reader feel their cheeks heating up? Gosh, darn it, Reader has read (aha) far too many romance books.

Make it so that, since Reader, who, now, cant escape the Village, since their little plans of flight had been SPOILEDD!! (reference. Chuckles) they stay with Donna, then, after awhile, after teaching Donna everything they know about Italy, and get really comftorable with her, and sees her without her veil on accident, and cooks traditionally, does fucking .. house chores, because, well, they're an unpaying guest in a strangers home, they both start catchin' feelsies and all that sweet stuff. I'll leave the deciding of when and how to you! How generous of me!

(No smut, please. Aroace look'enne for sum intimate, not-so-intimate love. Aha. Joke again. Just a little giggle, please 😨)

Hope ya have an amazing day!! Yes, i know im too descriptive, im just awesome like that. Much apreesh, Anon. 💗

(p.s, thank u blusy 🫂🫂🫂 virtual hugs from italy. ciao bbg.. or.. bbb.. i dont .. i dunno)

Yesss!!!! Well, that was quite long request, but it was funny to write!!! Thank you for sending it and for your funny words!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language(s) mistakes!!!!

Foreign Business

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Italian! Reader

Warnings: fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,585

Summary: Should you leave that gloomy village?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!!

“17:30, do you hear me?” the young woman driving the small bus said.

You rolled your eyes and nodded, picking up your stuff.

“I don't think it will… How do you say… take long,” you murmured with an innocent smile, taking out your suitcase as best you could, letting it fall into the snow.

“Hey, stranger,” the girl said, with a gloomy look. “You have to pay me now.”

“Cosa? No, I'll pay you when I get back,” you said with a frown, crossing your arms.

“I'm leaving,” the girl whispered, starting the vehicle again.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey! No, no, no…” you said comically running towards the small bus. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Look stranger, it's clear that you have no idea of what’s going on in this place, right?” the driver asked, with a raised eyebrow. You shook your head and smiled innocently.

“Hey, I was invited,” you protested confused, giving up and taking out your wallet.

“Who has invited you?” she wanted to know.

“I have a relative in this country who is also a businessman,” you explained, putting on your coat because of the cold. “He says he is known as… The Duke.”

The girl looked at you curiously, but finally shook her head.

“No idea…” she murmured. “Besides, that doesn’t matter to me. My job is to bring you here and take you back to Bucharest. If for… Well, for whatever reason you don’t come back, I’ll be left without my money, do you understand?”

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” you asked nervously, looking down the hill, where the old village stood in a frozen mist. “I'm just going to sell my stuff and…”

“You bore me,” the driver sighed, with a mocking laugh that made you burn with rage. “Just pay me now, spaghetti.”

“Mm, politeness is not your best virtue, is it?” you murmured, wishing to say other things, other not-so-elegant words.

After all, that stupid girl was your only transportation in that place in the middle of nowhere… You should control your desire to insult her with all your might.

“I'd rather be rude than stupid,” the young woman laughed, extending her hand for you to give her the money you were holding, squeezing it tightly.

“Ugh, here, your money,” you grumbled, getting a satisfied look from the driver, who turned off the engine, reclining her seat and picking up a magazine.

“A pleasure doing business with you, spaghetti...” she sighed with a sinister laugh.

You, without her seeing you, made fun of her, angrily picking up your suitcase and walking towards the path where you had met with the Duke.

“Stupida...” you hissed, shaking your head, observing the landscape around you.

The trip had been exhausting. Dodging the mountains, those snowy landscapes had taken you too much time, but, that seemingly remote place had a special charm that made it worth it.

You were always a saleswoman, descendant of a family of merchants that expanded throughout old Europe decades ago. Sell, buy, repeat… That was your way of life. Trading in the villages of your country, Italy, was something simple for you, perhaps too simple.

The lack of interest of people in the modern world for something as simple as books, films, or any element of culture, had caused your business to falter, and you had no more than four clients in your area.

You always believed in tradition, in following the family legacy, even when circumstances were not in your favour. You could say that you were also a bit stubborn. Your family branched out to all possible places, places like France, Germany, Spain…

They all seemed to be haunted by the same curse, the same lack of interest in a good book, in knowledge itself.

But there was one place, a place where the tentacles of your family had arrived to stay for a long time, a place where the past lived, where present and future seemed not to exist at all.

A distant relative, the Duke, was for you the luckiest member of the family. Not even your parents knew how long that man had been in that village, in Romania. There were even rumors that he never came, that he never left, he had always existed.

Nonsense and legends in your opinion.

What you did know was that in that place, there were some business opportunities.

You had heard many things about the Duke, about the place where he worked. Apart from old superstitions and legends of witches and vampires, things you didn't believe in, you had heard that the people of the place lived completely oblivious to the outside world.

A unique opportunity. How much would a person pay to know what the world around them was like?

You didn't really care much about the reasons, those strange rumors. You didn't even wonder why that village seemed to be frozen in time. The only thing you thought about when you got on that plane was business.

“Qui...” you sighed when you reached that meeting point the Duke marked.

Without having anything else to do but wait, you sorted your merchandise while you studied the snowy forest that surrounded you, trying to decipher the old wooden signs that indicated illegible directions.

“Re-Reser-Reservoir...” you stammered, removing the snow from one of those signs, looking around. “Un bacino idrico?” you asked, scratching your head. “Mm, interessante...”

Yes, maybe if you finished soon you could do some sightseeing and, above all, you could see the enormous castle that seemed to guard the village.

The minutes passed, you couldn't tell if quickly or slowly. Nothing, there was no sign of the Duke. You might not have known what he looked like, but… In reality, you hadn't seen anyone pass by that path.

The cold began to mix with impatience, making you shiver.

“Ah!” you shrieked when, out of nowhere, a flock of black crows appeared, passing over you, close, too close.

Those black birds seemed like an evil omen, but you were too eager to know that place to realize it. Simply, with a proud cough, you stood up from your crouched position, shaking the snow off your dress.

“Uccelli…” you growled furiously, watching how that flock of crows moved away with sinister sounds.

Checking that your merchandise was still intact, you closed your suitcase, crossing your arms, slowly losing patience.

As you sighed for the umpteenth time, you realized that maybe you were in the wrong place. Asking wouldn't do any good, and besides, there was no one you could ask.

“Mm?” you muttered when you noticed something different among your stuff, a sealed envelope that you could swear wasn't there before.

Looking around confused, thinking no way those crows left that envelope, you slowly picked it up, opening it with a frown. As you began to read, you looked nervously at that forest again. It was a letter for you, in the middle of nowhere.

Dear (Y/N)

I'm afraid something unexpected has come up. It prevents me from attending to you, even though I was certainly looking forward for us to meet. I suppose that, since you are my family, to trade in the village on your own won't be a problem for you.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

PS: A word of advice, listen to what the villagers tell you, I wouldn't want the wolves to devour you, or anything worse. Please take care of yourself.

Duke

There was no doubt about it, that letter had arrived there by magic. The idea of ​​messenger crows seemed less and less crazy. But the reality was overwhelming: you were alone in that unknown place.

You had two options: You could take your suitcase, walk back in your tracks and go to the bus, writing yet another failure in your diary, a very expensive one. On the other hand, you could ignore those chills, that feeling of being where you shouldn't be and do what you had come to do.

I wouldn't want the wolves to devour you, or anything worse…

That warning seemed like an irony, a little joke that was surely common to all outsiders like you. Well, it's not like it was a place where there could be wolves but… That wasn't the disturbing thing. What could be worse than being savagely devoured by those beasts?

Curiosity or cowardice, that was your dilemma.

With a thoughtful sigh, you looked at those two possible paths, imagining that, under each of them, there was a line of text that told you which page to go to, like those adventure books that offered several possibilities, some of them fatal ones.

You always fantasized too much thanks to those books. Maybe if you had been as rational as the protagonists of those great adventures, you would have considered your possibilities better.

Shrugging, not wanting to have wasted your money on a fruitless trip, you didn’t listen to the Duke's letter. After all, your job was to talk to people, you didn't need his help, or so you thought.

The castle was increasingly imposing as you approached. It was fascinating, a place from a novel, full of possibilities. Surely when you returned home and read one of those books, you would imagine that gloomy and mysterious landscape.

The glances traveled to your eyes passively. These villagers were definitely strange, they seemed to either fear you, or wish you away, you weren't sure.

Unfortunately, your eagerness to offer knowledge to these poor souls was unsuccessful.

Muttering things you didn't quite understand, in an English that was practically incomprehensible to you, which, on the other hand, was bad luck, since you didn't fully master the language either, each one of the doors of those old cabins closed in your face.

“Hey, I haven't even said my name!” you protested after the tenth disinterested grunt from one of the inhabitants of that place. “Cazzo…”

The door opened again and a young woman with an apologetic look appeared.

“Forgive my father. He doesn't trust outsiders,” the young woman said. Well, at least she spoke to you. “My name is Elena.”

“Sono (Y/N),” you said politely, shaking your hand with the young woman's, who frowned upon hearing you speak that way.

“It's clear that you're not a villager,” the girl joked, closing the door.

“No, I'm Italian,” you said, with a business smile that you had already rehearsed.

The young Elena nodded curiously, glancing at your suitcase.

“Are you a merchant?” she asked, pointing at your merchandise.

You nodded slowly.

“Yes, I've come on behalf of a relative... His name is, or he calls himself... Duke,” you explained with a trembling voice. Your nerves couldn't fail you. At least you had managed to talk to someone.

“The Duke?” the girl asked, with a surprised look. “Wow, I didn't know he had a family.”

“Yes, but he seems to be the only one who is successful,” you murmured jokingly, pronouncing the words in the best way possible. “Well... Elena, right? Are you interested in something?”

“No, I'm sorry. I'm afraid we have everything we need,” she said, shaking her head with a kind smile. “My father says that books are a waste of time.”

“Sciocchezze,” you sighed with a mischievous smile, showing her a vinyl record. “What about music? It's the sound of the soul.”

“No, no, I... I'm afraid we don't need anything like that,” Elena shook her head again.

“Oh, great,” you said, letting your smile fade at the thought that you couldn't even get enough money to recoup the investment of the trip.

“Don't be offended, just…” the young woman said, gesturing with her hands to emphasize her apology. “… We just work to live, that's, that's all we do, anything else would be entertainment.”

“Oh,” you said curiously, arching your eyebrows.

“But, um…” the girl said, looking around. “Maybe, maybe I know someone who might be interested.”

“Do you?” you asked.

Elena nodded, briefly pointing to a large house that stood out from the orchards.

“Luiza has always been a very cultured woman, and she is very kind. Maybe she would want to listen to you,” the young woman explained, in a kind tone. You blinked, looking at the indicated place, and smiled. “She lives up there, in the orchards.”

“Elena!” A loud voice was heard inside the cabin and the girl shuddered.

“I'm coming, father!” Elena shrieked, with another apologetic look. “Sorry, (Y/N), but…”

“Oh, of course, there is no… Pro-problem,” you said nervous about the impatience of that unpleasant man. “Luiza… Okay. Ciao!”

At least that girl helped you not to lose hope.

Elena wasn't lying, that Luiza seemed a bit different from the rest of the villagers, kinder, smarter, with an understandable English... It seems that you interested her enough to invite you into her house.

“Wait there, I'll make tea,” she said kindly, indicating that you sit at a table where a man seemed to be sharpening a knife with a distrustful look. After a few tense seconds, the man left his task, looking at you with distrust.

“So you're a merchant...” he whispered, tilting his head and crossing his arms.

“Yes,” you answered, with that well-rehearsed smile.

“And an outsider...” he whispered, with a sinister smile. “Luiza says you are related to the Duke...”

“That's right,” you said, without losing your merchant composure.

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Wow, I didn't know the fat man had a family,” the man said, with the same surprise in his voice as the young woman before. “Where are you from?”

“Italy,” you said proudly, ignoring those dark eyes, which hardened when they heard you answer.

“Italy, you say?” he asked, leaning a little towards you, narrowing his eyes. “You say you're related to the Duke?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, confused by that change in attitude.

“Mm, are you sure you're related to the merchant?” he asked suspiciously, making you nervous. “Hey, maybe by any chance you know...”

“Ahem,” Luiza interrupted, serving you the cup of tea. “Marcus.”

“What? I'm just asking, the girl says she's Italian,” the man, her husband, apparently, protested. “You and I know who…”

“Marcus,” Luiza said, with a firmer tone. The man shook his head, sighing in defeat. “Don't scare the poor girl.”

“Bah, if she's not scared yet, she must be brave, or stupid,” Marcus commented, laughing amused. You made an effort to smile at that little joke, smelling the delicious aroma of tea.

“Okay, (Y/N), unlike my husband, I’m interested in those foreign items… Do you have any opera records?”

“Oh, sure, sure,” you said, as if coming out of a confused thought, opening your suitcase and putting on a display of everything you had.

Well, you did manage to sell a few things. You would always be grateful to that woman, the only kind woman in that place, apart from the young girl, of course. But even with that partial success, you didn't have enough to feel like you had succeeded.

If that woman had bought you something, nobody was telling you that there couldn't be more Luizas in that place. You just had to find them.

You were ready to leave that house, when a small book caught your attention. It looked like a book full of old photographs of the village. You approached it with curiosity while Luiza kindly opened the door for you.

“Um, sorry, but... Can I take a look?” you asked, pointing at the book. The woman looked at her husband and he shrugged, making a vague gesture of farewell.

“Of course...” the woman sighed, faking a smile. You returned it gratefully, starting to turn the pages of that album. “This village is an old one.”

“I see,” you commented nodding, turning pages and pages full of snowy landscapes. “My family had told me about this place, but... Well, not much. What is this?” you asked, pointing to a kind of square guarded by four large statues.

“Those are the… The four founders of the village,” Luiza explained. “The Dimitrescu family, owner of the castle; the Moreau family, owner of the lake lands; the Heisenberg family who owned a metal factory on the outskirts of the village, and the… The Beneviento family, the doll makers.”

“Oh,” you sighed interested, not even hearing the names very well, you were more attentive to those old photographs. “Does anyone live in the castle? I'd like to visit it.”

“Um, no, I…” the woman stammered, making you frown. “I don't think you should go near it, (Y/N).”

“Isn't it open to the public? What a pity,” you said with a disappointed voice.

Luiza made a strange gesture, shaking her head.

“Young lady, take some advice from me,” the woman said, speaking in a very low tone, approaching you with a hand on your shoulder. “You must leave this place.”

“Why?” you asked, confused, looking away at another of the photographs, one with a beautiful mansion, guarded by a waterfall.

It quickly caught your attention, even making you ignore the kind woman's warning words.

“Because…” Luiza sighed, with a broken tone, as if she were afraid of something. “It's not the best place for an outsider.”

“Oh, yeah, well,” you said, amused, gesturing with your hand. “I have people skills. That's not a problem. Tell me, is this house in the village?”

“Oh, that house…” Luiza murmured, looking at the same photograph.

“It's impressive,” you said curious. “Does anyone live there?” you insisted, running your hand over the drawing of what looked like a symbol, one with a moon and a sun.

“It's, it's far from here,” the woman commented, closing the album and subtly pushing you towards the exit. “Listen to me, don't go near that place. It's very dangerous.”

You shook your head with wide eyes, pulling your suitcase.

“Everything here seems very dangerous,” you commented with a low voice and a frown. The woman put on a sad look, caressing your cheek in a strange way.

“Go away, (Y/N), go away before the shadows invade you,” Luiza whispered, turning her back on you and closing the door softly, leaving you petrified on the floor.

“Cosa diavolo non va?” you asked yourself with a strange grimace, slowly moving away from the house.

Ignoring these strange warnings, you walked aimlessly through the village, looking for someone who wasn't afraid of your presence, or who wouldn't bow their head, ignoring your greeting.

Tired from your erratic walk, you decided to lean against a stone sculpture, in the middle of another snowy square. Failure loomed in your thoughts, in your mind, wondering if perhaps with the Duke present, things would have been different.

You looked at your watch and sighed, it was still early to leave, and even more so when you had barely sold four things. You had to make an effort, either that, or try another nearby village.

The crows flew above you like a bad omen that you couldn't interpret. The sky was dark, gloomy.

Don't let the shadows invade you...

Luiza's words echoed in your ears, words you didn't know how to interpret, or rather, that you didn't want to interpret. You were in a different country, in a different culture, lost in that snowy, sinister village. Even though you believed that nothing could go wrong, a bad feeling began to haunt you.

Yes, maybe it was time to leave.

You stood up with a defeated gasp, shaking your head, depressed by your ridiculous failure. But, you had barely taken two steps when something caught your attention.

In front of you was a wooden door, a kind of fence that separated a private property. Above the frame, there was a symbol, one that you remembered having seen before: that moon and that sun.

Your mind was left thinking. Yes, surely that would be the way to the waterfall house. It had to be. Luiza warned you to not get too close but… Curiosity was calling you.

Okay, it wasn't a huge castle but… Still, that mansion couldn't belong to just any villager. The curious relationship of wealth, bigger houses and kindness that you found in the village made you think that maybe someone rich lived there, a person or family with enough money to think about leisure or wisdom.

“Mm,” you murmured curiously, approaching that place, looking at that symbol closely. The door was open. You almost thought you heard whispers that encouraged you to enter that dark path.

You swallowed when a cold breeze came out of that darkness. Your body trembled for no reason, but your mind was blinded by greed. You couldn't miss that opportunity to know what or who was on the other side, who lived in that place.

The sunlight illuminated the path you had to follow with increasingly less intense rays. Slowly, you followed that luminous advice, entering through the wooden door, walking towards the unknown.

It didn't seem like a very strange place, or so you thought. The trees seemed sad, that place seemed devoured by time. Strange objects hung from the almost rotten branches, which you passed by without flinching.

You simply kept your mind busy, like a danger blocking mechanism that seemed to alert your subconscious. Instead of worrying, when you saw that those things hanging from the trees were dolls, you simply whistled, making your way through the branches with a slow walk.

You passed an old wooden bridge, one that said: go away in all possible languages. You were never good at interpreting those words, those screams from your mind that demanded your attention.

The sunlight diminished as you walked, it was getting dark. The branches of the trees drew disturbing shadows that surrounded a pair of ruined cabins.

“Brr,” you shivered when you saw those wooden claws stalking you.

The smile never left your face, but your body began to notice the symptoms of that inner fear; a dizziness, a feeling of heaviness in your stomach... All of these were physical signs that seemed to want to stop you in your tracks.

You even thought that the tea or the fruit you ate at Luiza's had upset your stomach. No, you didn't see the danger in any way, or rather, you didn't want to see it.

Finally you reached a clearing, where a mound showed a sinister grave you didn't want to approach. Your stupidity and your desire for wealth were so strong that you thought it was perhaps a simple decoration.

“Un ascensore...” you murmured when you reached a red door, surely the entrance to that curious mansion.

Biting your lip, you rubbed your hands entering those metal bars. Of course, whoever lived in that place had to have a lot of money, and, above all, a great desire to spend it. You fantasized about what you were going to find: a rich family? A widow, perhaps? A wealthy man? Maybe one of the founders of the village’s descendants? It didn't matter who it was, but you could smell money from miles away.

When you got out of the elevator, the sight in front of you forced you to stop. There was that house, that huge house with a beautiful waterfall next to it.

“If this doesn't work, I'm leaving the business,” you said, rehearsing in your head the phrases to say to the inhabitant of that place, greetings, smiles, all your charms.

The sound of the falling water relaxed you, although you didn't know why you were even nervous. The word danger whispered in your mind like a premonition or intuition, but you let the waterfall completely eclipse it. The beauty of that place couldn't entail any danger, you were convinced.

You cleared your throat as you approached the door, slowly climbing the steps. At the moment, there was nothing that matched Luiza's warnings, nothing, until, before you could knock on the door, it opened with an ominous creak.

“Um, hello?” you asked, seeing how, in front of you, there was nothing but a beautiful wooden room, with a rocking chair that moved by itself. “Ciao...” you repeated in a lower voice.

There didn't seem to be anyone in that place and you sighed, relaxing your shoulders and looking around.

“Oh!” you squealed in fear when you looked down, where, what looked like a ventriloquist's doll was standing looking at you. “Oh... Cazzo... What...” you said upset. “Good... Good trick...”

Smiling, thinking that, like the gravestones in the clearing, this was just a joke, you crouched down curiously, looking at that puppet.

“Hello?” you repeated, standing up again and ignoring the doll, which, perhaps because of the accumulated fatigue, you thought was following you with its gaze.

“Down here, stupid!” a high-pitched screech scared you again, making you fall backwards, tripping and crashing your body against the hard stone of the porch.

But neither the pain of the fall nor the fright were the worst. Yes, you were not dreaming, if it was a joke, it was the best one you had ever seen.

That doll, that damn doll moved, moved its articulated mouth, laughing out loud.

“Who are you?” the puppet asked, approaching your collapsed body. You backed away scared, crawling until you reached those small steps.

“Ahhh! Una bambola parlante!” you shrieked in fear, standing up as quickly as possible with your hands in front of your body.

“Who are you calling a talking doll, you silly, silly?” the puppet asked.

No, there was no doubt. There were no strings, no ventriloquist, it was alive.

“Ah, io, io… What?” you stammered nervously, shaking your head, blinking hard to make what was undoubtedly a hallucination go away. It didn’t.

“Wait, wait, wait, can you repeat that?” the doll said, approaching with a comical step. “What did you just say?”

“Cosa?” you asked, grabbing your suitcase, ready to run away. “Sorry, I… No, no… What?”

“You called me a talking doll,” it said, crossing its arms.

 You nodded confused.

“I'm, I'm, I'm sorry... No, no...” you stammered, still shocked and scared by the impossibility of that old toy. It couldn't move, it just couldn't.

“Who are you?” it asked again. “Why do you know Italian?”

“I-I-I'm Italian,” you stammered, shaking your head.

The doll tilted its head curiously, looking you up and down.

“You're a long way from home, you silly Italian,” the doll commented in a mocking tone.

You blinked again, scratching the back of your neck, searching all over the doll for the mechanism that was supposed to make it behave like that. You didn't find it.

“I-I'm a merchant,” you said with a broken voice. The doll nodded, walking towards you quickly, climbing up your dress. It was too close, you couldn't move.

“Merchant?” it asked again, looking at you as if it was reading your soul. “What do you sell?”

“I sell… I sell… Books and… Vinyl and… Movies…” you explained when the doll finally got off your body, without taking those cold eyes off you.

“Books and movies?” the puppet asked.

You, nervous, still scared, nodded erratically.

“Do you have Italian stuff?”

“S-Sure I have,” you whispered in a small voice.

“Mm,” the doll murmured turning around, but looking at you several times before disappearing into the darkness of the mansion. “Donna, Donna! You have to see this, come, come!”

“Donna?” you asked yourself, gathering enough courage to walk back to the door, where, after a few seconds, the sound of heels approached.

In front of you was a woman, a woman dressed completely in black, with a veil covering her face. She had a stoic pose, she emanated danger, and even more so when you saw that she was holding the doll in her arms.

Even if she was the most experienced ventriloquist in the world, she could never have done that, it was simply impossible.

“She's pretty, huh, Donna?” the doll said, nudging the lady, who sighed tiredly. “An Italian beauty knocking on your door, not even in your dreams could you imagine something like that.”

“Angie…” A hoarse, dark voice came out of that black veil while the woman lowered the doll to the floor. It laughed amusedly, staring at you again.

“Um, well…” you murmured confused, with your gaze fixed on that black veil, on those invisible eyes that you knew were watching you. “H-Hello…”

There was no answer. The lady didn't even seem to be bothered by your words.

“Um… I'm… I'm (Y/N),” you said, putting fear aside and politely extending your hand towards her, who looked at it briefly, without returning your greeting. “No? Okay… Well…”

“I'm Angie!” the doll shrieked, grabbing your hand instead of its owner and shaking it roughly. “Nice to scare you!”

“H-Hello… Suppongo…” you whispered, still confused but, mysteriously, more relaxed.

“Forgive her, she doesn’t like to talk,” the doll explained, pointing at its owner in a mocking way. “Shall I tell you a secret? She's Italian too.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, looking at the lady, who nodded briefly. “Che strana coincidenza…”

“Perché strana?” that hoarse voice asked again, the voice of that mysterious lady.

“Oh, well…” you said embarrassed, of course, that doll hadn't lied to you. “No, it's nothing…”

“Che vuoi?” the lady in black asked again, her tone lighter, but reflected impatience.

“I'm, I'm a merchant,” you said again, trying to smile, making a superhuman effort to make that strange situation stop being so strange.

After all, she was the inhabitant of that place, and she was also Italian. The business seemed to call you…

“She sells a lot of things, Donna!” the doll shrieked, pointing at you. “Things you like!”

“Mm,” the woman in black murmured, looking over your shoulder at the merchandise. “Me li può mostrare?”

“Oh, sure, sure…” you said nervously, heading towards your suitcase and opening it on the floor, closely followed by that strange doll, which didn't seem to want to leave you alone.

“Look, Donna, your favorite record!” the doll squealed, rummaging through the merchandise without any kind of hesitation, under your watchful gaze, and hers.

The lady took that vinyl, observing it carefully. You almost thought you heard a slight laugh coming out of that veil.

“È, it's a special edition,” you murmured when you saw how interested she seemed to be. “You, you know… Come prima… Più di prima…” you sang in a timid and horrible way.

The veiled lady looked up with a sigh.

“Are you also a singer?” she asked with a weak, whispering voice.

You laughed nervously shaking your head, with your cheeks slightly blushed.

“No… The truth is, I’m not… Although, although they've always told me that I have a beautiful voice,” you said timidly, looking sideways as Angie rummaged through the books.

“Mm,” the lady murmured with disinterest, looking at the vinyl again.

“Donna, Donna! Nonna's favorite book!” the doll squealed, handing her one of your books in perfect condition. “Look, look, this one isn't broken!”

“I have that one on sale… If, if you're interested… Donna, right?” you said with your voice cracked by nerves, playing with your sweaty hands.

“Donna? Lady Beneviento for you, silly!” the doll snapped at you, in a haughty tone.

“Beneviento?” you asked involuntarily, knowing that you had heard that name somewhere.

Of course you heard it. Like a whisper of help, your mind recalled Luiza's words, those that explained to you the families who had founded the village. Of course, that Donna Beneviento was an important person in that place. Despite everything strange, your greed took precedence, she seemed truly interested in what you were selling.

The mysterious woman nodded slowly, leafing through that book with curiosity.

“I’m sorry, Lady Beneviento,” you said elegantly, lowering your head. You knew she was not an ordinary villager and therefore, you could not treat her as such.

“Vieni,” she whispered, gesturing for you to enter the house.

You nodded nervously, closing your suitcase and pulling it into the mansion, with an extra weight. That living doll had climbed on top of it, swinging its legs in a playful way.

“Hey, do you mind?” you said nervously. The doll, obviously, shook her head.

You groaned, still in disbelief, and when you looked again you saw something strange.

There was a portrait, a portrait hanging on the wall of the stairs. On it, there was a woman, a really beautiful, gorgeous woman with a pale face, serious eyes and black hair. Next to her, there was that puppet, the Angie doll. Would she be the lady?

Lady Beneviento cleared her throat, getting your attention, letting you know through her non-verbal language, that she didn't want you to look at that portrait. You decided to be good and obey.

“Sit down, I'll make some tea and we'll talk business,” the woman whispered, pointing to a cozy corner of that house.

“Sure... Yes, um... Thank you,” you said with a kind smile.

The woman in black looked at you for an almost awkward moment and then turned around, walking slowly towards a hallway. You followed her with your eyes until she disappeared.

It was a strange situation indeed. Perhaps you should have listened better to your survival instincts.

After what seemed like an eternity, the lady returned, serving you a cup of tea with an elegant gesture and sitting in front of you.

“Grazie…” you whispered with a grateful smile, blowing on the steaming liquid. “Truth be told, I didn't expect to find someone who spoke my language… I've never been good with English.”

“You seem to speak it quite well,” she commented, with a regal pose, barely moving, not letting anyone see for a moment what that black veil was hiding.

“I have no choice, I guess,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Do you trade all over Europe?” she asked curiously as you opened your suitcase again, your hands shaking.

You weren’t there to chat. You had gone to do business. You couldn’t forget that.

“No, I… Well, I used to trade only in Italy,” you explained with a sad smile.

“Where in Italy are you from?” she asked again as Angie, with the suitcase open again, rubbed her wooden hands, rummaging through your stuff with an evil laugh.

You looked back at the lady, a bit confused.

“Da che parte d’Italia vieni?” the lady repeated with a slightly darker voice. “Nord, sud…?”

“Oh, yes, Well… I was born in the city of… This may seem like a joke to you but… I’m from the city of Benevento,” you said with a shy smile.

 You didn’t want her to think you were laughing at her. It was just a stupid coincidence.

“Mm, why would I think it's a joke?” she asked, with a tired sigh.

“Well, because of your… Your last name… It's quite similar, isn't it?” you said with a fake smile. “Are you from around there?”

“No,” the lady answered dryly, without bothering to shake her head. “I was born here.”

“Oh, okay…” you murmured, glancing at the doll, who was shuffling through your books. “Hey, um… be careful…” you said to the doll, who made a mocking gesture, imitating your voice in an unpleasant way. “Hey, la, la bambola…”

“Angie”

“Yes, Angie…” you repeated with a frown. “Why is she alive?”

“That's none of your business,” she said, with a cold voice, one that ran through your nerves, putting them on alert again.

“O-Okay, sorry,” you murmured, looking down.

“Do you have Italian movies?” she asked after a tense moment, one that you took advantage of to hide your embarrassment in the teacup. “Film.”

“Oh, yes, yes of course…” you said nervously, reaching for the suitcase, rummaging through your messy things due to the Angie doll, who protested with a grunt at your hand. “I have a lot of these.”

“Mm?” the lady murmured, looking at the cover confused, opening it and taking out the disc. “What is this?”

“A, a movie,” you said, clearing your throat. “A DVD.”

“DVD…” she whispered, looking at her reflection in that shiny disc, visibly confused. You couldn't believe she didn't know it. That village was definitely stopped in time. “I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand you.”

“Um, well…” you said, scratching the back of your neck, wondering how you were going to explain that to this mysterious woman. She didn't seem to be joking, at all.

“Hey, it's like a mirror!” Angie squealed, climbing onto her owner's lap and comically looking at herself in the disc, turning it curiously. “I want one, Donna, I want one!”

“Ugh, va bene…” the lady whispered, putting the DVD back in its place and handing it to the doll, who jumped victoriously. “It's still not what I'm looking for.”

“What… What are you looking for?” you asked, flashing your fake saleswoman smile again.

“Don't you have any 28mm rolls?” the woman wanted to know.

You nodded confused.

“Yes… But, but they are, they are special, I mean, I mean… They are… They are molto costose, you know… They are, they are almost museum relics,” you said, taking a metal box out of the suitcase and opening it, displaying its contents.

“Fine, I want them,” she murmured, nodding and snatching the box from your hands. “Money is not a problem.”

Well, that phrase fostered a more sincere smile on your face.

“Va bene… It is…” you said nervously, taking out a notebook in which you wrote down your sales.

“I'm not finished,” she interrupted you, leaving the box on the floor. “I also want those books.”

“Those? Which ones?” you asked confused by her vague description.

“All of them,” the lady said abruptly, leaving you glued to the seat. “I've been asking the Duke for that classic novel collection for a long time.”

“The Duke? Oh, well, I'm related to him,” you said smiling, taking the books out of the suitcase and leaving them on the table.

“You?!” Angie asked in a shrill voice, getting too close to you again. “Come on! You don't look like that fat greasy guy!”

“Fat greasy guy?” you asked amused. “Well, I don't really know him, but it seems that in this village you do it quite well.”

“Oh, yes, he's a scammer!” Angie shrieked laughing amused. “Isn't he, Donna?”

“Mm…” the lady nodded, distracted by the books.

That scared you.

“Oh, I… I'm not like him. I'm always fair with prices and… Cazzo, don't think I'm trying to rip you off or anything like that… Cazzo.”

“Do you mind stopping talking like that? I don't like rude girls,” Donna snapped at you, with a dangerous, annoyed tone.

“I'm, I'm sorry, it's just that... Well, I'm not used to being understood,” you explained with a different blush, one that was accentuated when a shy laugh came out of her veil.

“It was just a joke,” she said amused, more relaxed, surely fascinated by that collection of books she was looking for so much. “Do you want some more tea?”

“Oh, yes, per favore,” you said, extending your cup towards the teapot, with a calm smile.

“I still don't know what a girl like you is doing in a place like this...” she whispered after a moment of calm silence, one that served to, little by little, get you used to that sinister atmosphere, and that doll.

“It's a long story...” you sighed, leaning back on the old sofa.

“I have time,” she said, with the same tone as you. “I'm sure you'll appreciate having a chat in your native language, right?”

“S-Sure…”

As if you had suddenly forgotten what you were doing there, or how much time you had left to leave, you began to chat calmly with that strange woman.

At first she seemed gloomy, reluctant to hold any kind of conversation but… As you explained everything that led you to the village, your concerns, your goals… Well, her attitude relaxed quite a bit.

The short, dry sentences turned into a soft voice, into shy laughs from time to time. It seemed that she had gained some confidence with you, or so that living doll hinted. After your hectic trip through Romania, a chat in your language effectively lifted your spirits, it was almost like feeling at home.

On the other hand, that erratic behavior of the lady in black never ceased to surprise you. Like the rest of the villagers, she seemed not to understand or comprehend very well the outside world, the time in which you lived.

To your surprise, she had never even set foot on Italy. Yes, her family came from there, but, incredibly, Donna had never been there. But that was not the only thing that was curious, so were the words that claimed she had never left the village.

It might seem that this woman, with money, with power, from an important family, had little or no interest in traveling, in leaving this sinister time capsule.

But that was not the case. Her words were full of sadness, her sighs, that nostalgia with which she listened attentively to your words... It seemed as if deep down she wanted to leave, as if, for some reason, her stay in the village was some kind of condemnation for her.

The mansion grew darker as time went by as you talked, sharing impressions, tastes, hobbies… It was almost as if you had just met a friend, a friend with an interesting voice, with a beautiful body, with a subtle but intoxicating lavender perfume…

Your cheeks betrayed those erratic thoughts about the lady in black and you shook your head several times.

You, a cultured girl, a fan of romance novels, always tended to idealize that kind of situations. You didn't want to believe in love at first sight, but you certainly didn't know what it felt like, if it was even possible.

No, no, no, no… You couldn't think about that, despite how attractive Lady Beneviento was to you. Everything had an end, and sooner than you would have liked, yours came.

Sighing, finishing your last cup of tea, you looked at the clock and almost choked.

“Oh, cazzo!” you said hurriedly, getting up from the sofa. “5 o'clock, if I don't hurry…”

“What's wrong?” the lady in black asked, getting up too, playing nervously with her hands.

“I'd love to stay and chat but… If I don't make it to that stupida’s bus, she will leave without me and…” you explained, gathering that was left in your suitcase. Donna had bought almost everything without thinking about it.

“Are you going to leave?” she asked in a whisper, with a voice that, at least to you, seemed sad.

You looked at her and nodded with a polite smile, extending your hand towards her, a hand that, this time, she shook briefly.

Damn, her hands were very soft…

“It's been nice meeting you, Donna,” you said kindly, turning around to walk towards the hall.

“Are you going to let her just leave? Silly Donna…” you heard the doll whisper in an indiscreet manner.

“W-Wait, wait a moment,” the nervous lady said, running to meet you, making her veil move, inducing your mischievous eyes to look at what was underneath. “D-Do you really have to go?”

“Yes,” you said with a confused look, totally innocent.

“W-Wait, I… I…” she murmured, approaching slowly. “It's dangerous to go out at night.”

“Hey, can someone explain to me what it is that scares you so much about this place? And why are there living dolls?” you asked with an impatient tone, remembering each of the villagers' warnings.

“I'll explain everything to you, but, but only if you stay with me a little longer, just a little longer,” the lady said, in a tone that sounded curiously desperate. “Per favore…”

“Please, please!” the doll repeated in a shrill tone.

“Um…” you stammered, unable to find an answer, a desire to stay that you knew existed. But that village had already given you so much trouble, you wanted to leave, but at the same time, you didn't.

Damn senseless crush… How can you even know if you really liked that woman?

“Okay,” you said, letting your words speak for themselves, sighing as you looked at your wristwatch, knowing that, even if you ran, you wouldn't make it to the bus on time. “Hai un telefono?”

The lady nodded, pointing to a small table.

You walked slowly past her, checking how, in a disturbing way, the doll and owner followed you with their gaze.

“Irina?” you asked when someone finally answered, after a few tense moments.

“Oh spaghetti, it's you!” the driver of the bus screamed. She seemed agitated, as if she was running away from something, or so you sensed, there was too much interference. “You have to… Help me! Wolves… Monsters…! Call the… Lice!”

“Cosa? I don't understand you, are you okay?” you asked with a frown, that stupid girl seemed to be in danger.

“No…! No…! Mother Miranda!”

After those screams, the call was interrupted, leaving you disoriented. Seeing you like that, Donna approached, taking the phone from your hand and hanging it slowly, as if somehow those screams hadn't surprised her.

“It seems that there are some connection problems,” Angie mocked, laughing, but stopping when the lady suddenly looked at her, as if she had said something she shouldn't. “Oops…”

“I think she wanted me to call the police… Who is Mother Miranda?” you asked confused, with your heart racing.

“She’s the leader of this village,” Donna murmured, with a somber voice. “But don't worry, she won't hurt you, I won't allow it.”

“Hurt? Um, hey, Donna, I think, I think Irina was in trouble,” you said nervously, focused on finding out what had happened.

“You'll be in trouble if you go out at night, silly! You have to stay here!” Angie yelled at you, pointing comically at the floor.

“Oh, no, no, I don't want to disturb you,” you said with a trembling voice.

Your intuition wasn't wrong at all, but... In that house, you didn't seem to be in danger.

“You're not disturbing me, I like your company,” Donna said, with her hands in front of her body, with an elegant posture, unfazed by what seemed to be the death of the bus girl. “Do you want...? Do you want to cook something for dinner?”

“Oh, um, yes, dinner... Um...” you said confused, nodding without really knowing why. “Va...Va bene...”

As if you had forgotten what had happened, as if that call hadn't taken place, you went down to that dark basement with the lady in black and started cooking. It was a fun, entertaining time.

You both shared your own recipes, your special ways of doing things. Your mind had forgotten about going home, it had forgotten where you wanted to go, why you wanted to leave. The only thing you knew was that you wanted to stay with that dark Italian Lady. You wanted to talk to her, laugh with her.

Yes, you started to believe in love at first sight, you had no doubt that it existed, you were experiencing it.

Day and night began to dance before your eyes, the sun and the moon. How long had you been there? You didn't know. Had it been days, weeks, months? You weren't sure.

Cooking, reading, watching those movies… Any excuse was good enough to forget about your problems, to forget you had a place to go back to.

 Maybe darkness had invaded you but… You had become addicted to her, to Donna Beneviento, to that strange woman and her doll, to her voice, her words, her laughter… To the lavender of her perfume…

“Sale,” Donna said, extending her hand so you could give her the jar she needed while, like so many days, like so many times, you cooked with her.

A curious routine, cooking, cleaning, sewing… Something that your own conscience used as payment for being a guest who didn't pay for her stay but… Were you really a guest? What were you?

“I've never seen anyone making pasta,” you said curiously, leaning your elbow on the counter. Donna laughed amused, shaking her head. “Well, my grandmother usually…”

“You say I'm like your grandmother?” she joked, kneading calmly.

“No, not at all,” you said, amused, looking hypnotically at that curious dough. “I buy it ready-made, it's easier and faster that way.”

“Chi va piano…”

“Va lontano…” you finished, smiling again, with that damn blush on your cheeks. “It's true, you're right, Donna.”

She glanced at you briefly, giving you another of her beautiful laughs. You were so dazed that nothing mattered anymore, only waking up in that guest room again, only going downstairs to share moments with her, only her, only Donna mattered to you.

“Wait, let me help you,” you said, picking up one of the flour sacks and putting it on the counter with a loud thud, raising a thick cloud of white dust. “Cazzo! Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

The lady coughed, brushing the flour away with her hand, clearing her vision. It could be a comedian or a dangerous one, you didn't quite know. Her little apron was unable to stop all the flour, which landed on Lady Beneviento, including her veil.

“Tutto bene?” you asked timidly, brushing the dust out of your hair.

“Sì,” the woman in black murmured, accidentally removing her veil, shaking it in front of your wide-open eyes.

When she realized the mistake she had made, the mistake of showing you her face, she gasped nervously, shaking her head.

You stood petrified, admiring every inch of her beauty, a hidden one, one that you only sensed and you had just confirmed. No, a stupid scar couldn't be that important, it wasn't capable of hiding anything, of overcoming her beauty.

“Non… Non…” she whispered, turning around and covering her face with her hands. “Non guardami!”

“Donna, wait, wait…” you said nervously, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t, don't cover yourself, You are… Sei bellisima…”

“No, no, no…” she repeated, nervously, pushing away your comforting hand. “Sei una bugiarda!”

“I'm not lying, Donna, really, I…” you said, trying to reason with those incipient sobs, with the trembling of her body.

“Now you'll want to leave… You'll make me hurt you!” she shrieked, completely out of control. You shook your head, ignoring that dangerous last sentence.

“Shh,” you whispered softly, turning her around, taking advantage of a slight moment of weakness. “I won't leave, I like being here.”

“No… Non é vero…” she said, moving away from your gaze.

You snatched the veil from her so she couldn't put it back on and, without thinking, you launched yourself at her lips, kissing them fiercely, just as you had wanted to do for a long time, you didn't know how long.

“Donna…” you sighed when you pulled away from the kiss, a messy kiss that she had a hard time joining.

Finally she did, caressing your cheeks, mouth agape by that sudden reaction, one that she was apparently also waiting for.

“You have come into my life like a savior, like a light that has passed through the darkness…” she whispered, kissing you again, losing that fear, that cowardice, the fear of being discovered, of you seeing her wounded face.

What Lady Beneviento didn’t expect, is that you would feel something for her.

“Per favore…Non partire…Rimani con me…Per sempre…” she murmured while your lips caressed each other, while the warmth of that unexpected love slowly passed through your body, until it reached your heart.

“Per sempre…”

[sarahreesbrennan]

sorry if you have already answered this, but are we getting any queer rep in Long Live Evil? 💕 i am super excited to see what you've cooked up for us either way!

I came back after I'd gone off on one, seeing the post had struck a chord and being thankful but fearful of my inbox. Let me say with delighted surprise that all the asks are very kind.

Thank you for this one, sweet anon. I am so excited and so nervous about my best beloved, Long Live Evil, and about coming back with a new book of my own after so long, when I believed for a long time it was hopeless.

I'm really grateful to find readers waiting for me. But I know readers are naturally more invested in characters they know: I extremely appreciate you taking an interest in the future.

So, short answer: YEAH you are!

Long answer: Long Live Evil wouldn't exist without its queer narratives.

C.S. Pacat and I were talking in our virtual Brookline Booksmith event recently about our favourite Disney villains. C.S. Pacat picked Maleficent, a fine choice. I picked Snow White's Evil Queen. We agreed we loved most of them.

Here's the relevant excerpt I was quoting in my last post from Carmen Maria Machado's In The Dream House, saying 'I think a lot about queer villains, the problem and pleasure and audacity of them.' Well... me too.

I think many of us have experienced feeling made wrong in some way - for not wanting what society said we should or being what we were expected to be - and that one step along that journey of discovery is going 'Okay, if it's wicked, I'll just BE wicked.' And that's part of why those characters appeal - because they seem free, and free of pain.

But modern storytelling isn't confined to coding, and audiences can now feel free to expect, not the certainty, but the possibility characters who aren't introduced as such still might actually turn out to be LGBT+. The essays I've read about Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Sherlock, Ted Lasso, Fox 9-1-1... I think the latest argued Jaime Lannister was bisexual. (Pretty persuasive.)

I remember reading the Raven Cycle going 'oh? OH.' I remember being at a writing retreat in 2013 and running through the halls screaming about Nico diAngelo. Ten years later we got a Nico diAngelo book co-written by Rick Riordan and the amazing Mark Oshiro. I watched Red, White and Royal Blue with a friend and she said 'honestly I hope the guys get together, but...' and I (having read the book) silenced myself with a herculean effort and watched her hopes come true. I didn't know about The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and almost dropped the book in a swimming pool. But I've also read and watched many things thinking, just maybe... oh, no. Still that hope existing is meaningful, the thought that if the story had gone differently, if this revelation had happened, if this realisation had happened, if, if, if...

Long Live Evil is a story about the story going differently and asking yourself questions about your own nature, and the escape to fiction of those who really need escape. The book is based on that 'if,' and the 'if' itself is joyous, and brings me back to the idea of gleefully transgressing the narrative that much villain love is based on.

It's also an ensemble story with a rogue's gallery of characters and multiple PoVs. (I was much inspired by the Six of Crows ensemble.) So it isn't about any one character's romance, and by the book's nature there exist many possibilities. A critique partner read and said 'I didn't know you were going THERE' and I responded 'Should I?'

I've never been one to confirm where stories are going, and I won't do so now. I'm not talking about any one character or telling you a direction.

I'm just saying yes to rep. It's baked in.

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Twelve

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut !!! (Oral / Very suggestive language) mild anxiety, fluff, alcohol/drinking (it’s a bar, we know this) VERY brief themes with grief, silly banter, flirting, and Come On Eileen mentions.

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: Charlotte thinks herself into a little spiral, landing her at the bar. Josh must have made her drink strong tonight, because she definitely made a choice!

Author's Note: Oh babies, I have been vibrating with excitement to post this chapter. We’ve made it through the dry-spell!! 🫡🫦 have fun!!

Talk (Unreleased) - Harry Styles "Don't ask me to talk about, I don't wanna talk at all."

“Maybe she was right. Maybe they were both right. I should just live a little,” I mutter to myself as I pace the house. You deserve to be happy; just let it happen. 

Daydreaming about the precious long-haired boy who has my stomach in knots. The way I still can’t believe we kissed more than once. It was hard to deny how sweet he was. Always made sure I didn’t walk to my car alone at night. Asking me to text him when I make it home. Checking that it’s okay that he kissed me, even though I went for him first. 

I’ve never met someone who had me so smitten so quickly. It would be a lie to say I’m not a little nervous, but I’m trying to do right by Cassie. She told me to stop thinking myself out of happiness and so .. I’m trying not to think too hard. 

I wish I needed to be there today. 

Mindlessly tidying up to try and keep myself distracted, I look through the handful of books sitting on the coffee table. For transparency’s sake, they are all romances. Maybe it’s because I just don’t have anything non-fiction on my to-be-read list or the fact that I feel like I’ve seemingly met a man written by a woman; the world will never know. 

Flipping one of them over to read the summary on the back, in italics, reads ‘friends with benefits.’ It stops me in my tracks, metaphorically. ..That’s a bad idea.. Right? I shake my head, trying to rid the idea entirely. Tossing it back on the coffee table and staring at it like it just insulted me personally. 

I pick up my phone, seeing the time, 4:03 pm, with an unread message from him.

Jacob: someone keeps queuing up the same song on the jukebox and I cant stop laughing

Jacob: idk how many times you can listen to Come On Eileen before you lose your mind but I have to be close to it 

I laugh at the idea of him losing it while behind the bar, especially with how calm his demeanor is. I can’t picture him being distraught. What if I just went and got a drink? That wouldn’t be weird, right?  

Me: Too many ‘too loo rye ay’s for you huh?

I mean, we are basically friends at this point and we’ve made out twice.. I don’t think me going to the bar for a drink would be .. wrong?  Staring at my leggings and fuzzy socks, I get up and quickly walk into my bedroom. I stare at myself in the full-length mirror; my hair is still fairly curled from last night. 

I pull out my olive cigarette pants, toss them onto my bed, and start digging through my closet. Finding an off-white sweater hiding in the back, I think I can make this cute. Changing into those and standing in front of the mirror, I tuck the bottom of the sweater up into the band on my bra, cropping it slightly. 

“That feels better, I think,” I mumbled to myself. I slide my belt through the loops, pulling things together even more. Adjusting my necklace to sit on top of the sweater, moving the clasp back to it’s rightful place. 

I grab my phone from the bed, take a picture in the mirror, pulling up the group chat; 

The Laid-Ease 🤩

Me: [sends photo] is this cute? 

Quinn: YES YES YES

Willa: very!!

Mel: Oooooo! Yes 😍

I smile at their responses, feeling a little more confident in my impulse decision. I sit in front of my mirror with all my makeup next to me. I take my time, making sure everything looks how I want it. I typically stick with natural-looking makeup because I’ve always liked my freckles and don’t want to hide them. The least I can do is feel cute if I’m going to go sit at the bar, you know, just in case.  

Sufficiently killing enough time so that I didn’t get to the bar too early. Finding a parking spot proved to be a little more difficult tonight. But being further away, I was able to sit here for a minute before walking over. 

Is this a dumb idea? No Char- you need to just go inside and get a drink. Josh is probably bartending anyway, so he’ll probably just talk to you. 

Forcing myself out of the car, I slowly walk over to the bar, taking deeper breaths as I do, trying not to let anxiety win. I'm doing this for you, Cass.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Luckily for me, I found a seat at the bar, and Josh is an angel. Bringing me a drink quickly and chatting with me for a few minutes before checking in on other customers. 

I slide my book from my bag, making myself comfortable as I sip on my drink for a while. My thoughts get louder as the alcohol slowly hits me. Rereading the same page a few times before actually processing it. 

You know he’s here–just go say hi. Shaking my head as I swallow the last sip of my drink. It’s very unlike me to let anything like this even remotely happen. 

You’ve never caved in a work situation, it’s honestly shocking. Unprofessional if you ask me. Okay but to be fair– none of the people I've had to work with look like him. You really can’t blame me for having eyes. 

Flipping the page of my book, I try to refocus. I wonder what he’s wearing today. Does he have his button up that he hardly buttons on? Jesus, what did Josh put in this drink? 

Forcing myself to read a few more pages before moving my bookmark into its new home. 

“Is Jacob in his office?” I ask Josh as he’s lingering close to where I’m sitting.

He nods quickly, “Where else would he be?” His eyebrows raise as he looks over at me, “I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”

I slide out of my barstool, adjusting my pants quickly. His office isn’t far down the hall; as I round the corner into the door frame, I take him in for a second. He’s so pretty. 

I gently knock to get his attention, watching his eyes light up as he sees me makes my stomach turn. Just go for it.

His sweet voice lingers in the room as he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

I swallow my nerves and whisper, “I know.” Stepping further into the small space, pushing the door shut behind me. Everything feels like slow motion again.

Turning to him, I’m barely taller than him while he’s sitting; I grab the sides of his face as I lean in. The feeling of his lips against mine makes my heart beat harder. I have kissed my fair share of men in my life, but none compare to him. The way his lips are so soft and how he goes for my bottom lip makes me wonder if he would ever sink his teeth into it. 

“Well, it’s nice to see you too,” he whispers through a small giggle, which makes me laugh with him. His hands gently rest on my waist. The way he looks at me, this man is going to be the death of me. 

I lean back in; this time, I can’t stop how desperate I feel. My hands find the back of his neck; my fingertips pressed into him like I’m afraid he’s going to run away. His grip on me tightens, pulling me closer. My legs bump into his knees; well, there’s only one way to solve this. 

Before I have time to think, I’m straddling his lap, his arms wrapped around me, my hands sliding up into his hair. Oh my god. My breath hitches as he lightly dances his tongue against my lip, and who would I be to deny him that? Goosebumps flood my body as he deepens the kiss, his grip on my shirt getting tighter, pulling me against him harder. I let my teeth grab his bottom lip, barely enough pressure to gently pull it back, when the sweetest little moan escapes him. 

The sound alone was enough to get a girl wet, but then he smiled. And dear god– isn’t his smile gorgeous? A little pink staining his cheeks, we quietly laughed together as I tucked my face into his neck. I breathed him in for a moment, feeling his hands slide up and down my sides. I felt him shift a bit before he pressed a kiss into the base of my neck, sending chills through my body.

He continues to litter slow kisses up my neck and under my jaw as I sit back up. He takes his time, barely lifting up when he moves so I can feel his breath as he inches his way up. Nobody had ever taken the time he had with me; it felt like he was savoring every kiss. 

My hands timidly moved from his neck down to his chest. If we weren’t here, I would be pulling this shirt off of him. Thankfully, his button-up shirts didn’t leave much to the imagination; I gently tugged on one side, revealing his collarbone that I let my fingertips graze. 

He hums against my skin before moving to press a kiss just under my ear. 

“Mmm,” he rasps quietly, “I could stay here all night.” His low voice sends shivers down my spine and makes my heart throb. I need him.

I stand up, grabbing his hands from my waist. 

“Stand up for me?” I ask quietly, and he doesn’t hesitate to follow through. He leans against his desk as I lean into him. It’s my turn to have some fun. 

I kiss down his jawline as my hands find his hips. Tracing along the top of his belt, I move my lips to his neck; his skin is so warm. Deciding to take my chance, I slide his belt over, starting to undo it. 

“Charlotte,” he whispers, “what are you doing?” 

I look up at him, stilling my hands, to ask, “Is this okay?” 

His eyes meet mine, looking back and forth for a moment like he’s trying to make sense of what I’m doing. But honestly, I’m also trying to make sense of it. 

“Of course, it’s okay. I just—“ he stumbles over his words before I cut him off with a kiss. 

I mumble against his lips, “Let’s not talk about it right now.” 

Quickly undoing his belt and popping the button on his jeans, my mouth is already watering. I drop down to my knees as I’m unzipping him, seeing his cock twitch as I do. He leans over me, flipping the lock on the office door. 

I can’t help but press kisses into his stomach just above his boxers, watching the goosebumps flood his skin. Gently tugging the waistband down, letting him free. Holy shit. My hand immediately ran down his length as I glanced up at him.

“All for me, baby?” Slips out, and he just moans quietly in response. What is he doing to me? His face reddening at the pet name, and my heart is pounding at the soft sounds coming from him. Letting my tongue run up to the tip before sliding him into my mouth. I can barely see him gripping his desk, the veins in his hands popping out harder, which only sends another shock through my body. 

Slowly taking more and more, I want to savor the moment. I’ve never wanted to be in this position more in my life. His little whimpers as I move closer to the base, making me throb. I pull my head back, stroking him for a second as I tease him more. 

“Don’t be shy, I wanna hear you,” I tell him. A strained moan falls from his lips. Before going back in for more, I tuck some loose hair behind my ears. Feeling his hands carefully gather all my hair as he wraps it around his fist, he watches me as I move my head quicker. The moans falling from his lips get louder as I pick up speed. 

Knowing he must be getting close, I say the one thing I know will get him going. 

“Come on, Captain.” 

His head drops back as his hand tightens its grip on my hair, he lets out a breathy, “Please.” 

“Let me have it,” I whisper, plunging my head down his length, feeling his little trail of hair barely touch my nose. I bob my head a few times before using my hand to help get him there, feeling his muscles tense before he finally spits out any sort of warning.

“Charlotte- fuck,” is all he can get out before his orgasm hits him. Hearing him moan my name makes my heart flutter. He accidentally tugs harder on my hair, not that I mind. But lettting go to brush the little hairs away from my face as I pull back and tuck him back into his boxers. 

I sat back on my feet, just admiring him in this state. His face was a little flushed, eyes still closed as a little smile crept onto his face. Finally looking down at me, he reached his hands out for me to take. Pulling me close to him as he kisses me, but I move my face back out of shock. 

“But I just-“ I start; most men I have been with would never kiss me after I did that for them.

“Who cares?” He giggles, pecking my lips a few more times. “Don’t even mind the taste since it’s on your lips.” 

“Oh,” is all I can muster. I was so severely unprepared for how secure he actually was in himself. Why is that so sexy? Have I really wasted that many times on guys who are just insecure? I truly didn’t think that something so simple would make him even more attractive, but here we are. 

“Should I sneak back out there?” I ask as he fixes his belt. 

“If you do, I’ll come out and keep you company,” he says, looking back up at me. He looks like he’s fighting a smile, which I can’t decide what option is cuter. I lean myself into him, pressing a few small kisses against his lips. 

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I whisper, wiping my thumb across his lip gently. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sitting back in my seat at the bar, I watch as Josh makes my drink for me. I can’t believe I did that. My mind races with what just happened, the sounds he made, the way even just the thought makes me shift in my seat. 

“Thank you,” I pipe up as Josh slides my drink over to me. He flashes me a toothy grin before hustling over to take someone’s order. I’m not even halfway through my sip when Jacob’s voice floods my ears. 

“You doin’ alright?” his English accent slips out. He sneaks behind the bar but not too far from me. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to show up,” I smirk, taking a sip of my drink. The corners of his mouth quirked. He grabbed the towel next to him before walking over to where I sat. 

“Is that so?” He asks, cocking his eyebrow up. The way he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the room makes my body warm. I’ve never had someone make me feel like this before. The way he’s standing in front of me, propping himself up against the bar. How his toned arms are lightly flexed, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look past how nice* his hands are. 

“Maybe,” I squeak out, leaning into my hands to try and get a little closer to him. The grin plastered on my face was undeniable. Looking at him in front of me after what just happened makes my head feel dizzy, and I’ve only had one drink. 

“Well, I’m very sorry, honey,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I’ll be damned; he’s good at it. “Rude of me to leave such a pretty girl like you waiting.” He thinks I’m pretty.  

My mouth moves faster than my brain can when I respond with, “I’ll let it slide this time.” Letting my eyes wander all over him as if nobody could see me. Noticing the way he’s biting the inside of his lip, the little twitch in his hand as my eyes drop to them. The movement of his necklace when he leans forward only fills my head with horrible thoughts. The thought of them bouncing off his chest as he– 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, subtly biting his lip. “Promise.” The look he’s giving me makes my thighs clench together. 

“Oh, I’ll be looking forward to that,” I try to hide how nervous that makes me. I haven’t done anything with someone for a while, let alone having someone … do something for me. Usually on my own for that. 

He stares at me for another second before letting his head drop back a little. He stares at the ceiling before shaking it as he looks down. A soft little smile is on his lips. What is he thinking about that has him grinning like that? 

I cave, “What’s that face for?” 

He lets out a laugh, letting his smile grow, showing off his teeth now. His eyes rake over me again, his arms folded over his chest; he really is so cute. 

“It’s nothing,” he finally spits out. 

My eyebrows pull in, “I don’t buy that one bit.” Squinting at him as tries to do the same face back but not being able to hold it.

“I can’t say it right now,” he says, moving closer to the bar. He leans down, propping himself up with his elbows.

“Why not?” I don’t know what is in the air tonight, but I can’t stop myself from poking at him more and more. 

“It’s not the right place,” he laughs, “people could hear me.” 

“Just whisper it to me,” I excitedly spit out, “we can pretend it’s a secret.” I watch as he looks around the room, moves back, and mouths ‘hold on’ to me. 

  He pours two fresh beers from the tap, walks them over to a table, and grabs their empty glasses. He then wanders around the booths for a moment, making sure everybody is happy. I steal glances at him a few times, doing my best to not stare at him, but it’s hard. He’s a deceivingly intoxicating man; you’d never expect it because he’s so quiet at first. 

How he’s gone this long without a girlfriend is beyond me. I guess it’s also something we’ve never really talked about, so maybe he just didn’t care? I can’t imagine girls not liking him. He’s so precious; how could you not develop a crush on him? Oh– I hadn’t thought that hard about that part of whatever this situation is. Do I have a crush on him? But I don’t live here, so that could make him not want to pursue anything– I don’t live that far, maybe he wouldn’t care. My thoughts race with questions of whether I’m making a mistake or not. 

I don’t want to jump into a relationship this fast. I don’t want to waste more time, but I have to do something because I just know Cassie would punch me if I didn’t do this. Suddenly remembering the book that offended me earlier today, ‘Friends with benefits’ plays in my head. Maybe he would be okay with that..? That way I can make sure this is what I want to do. That sounds reasonable, right? I’d say we’re friends and who would say no to the benefits? He already promised me something, and I need to know what that is now.  

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I feel someone gently place their hand on my back. I look over to see him setting a few glasses on the bar. He’s so close I can feel the warmth coming off of him and smell his cologne. 

“Oh, sorry, excuse me,” he giggles quietly. Turning to leave, he stops, sliding his hand up to the base of my neck and lightly giving it a squeeze. He drops his head to whisper, “Was just thinking about how I can’t wait to hear your pretty voice moaning my name.” 

My jaw falls open as he says it; looking up at him, his face is flushed like he’s embarrassed to admit it. He gives me a slow wink before sauntering off to talk to customers, leaving me to think about that. I definitely need to know what he plans on doing to make it up to me now. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Our nightly routine begins once more as we walk in comfortable silence to my car. 

I quietly break the silence, letting out, “The sky looks so pretty tonight.”

His head tilts up quickly to take it in while I watch him. His eyes scanned all the stars and the light from the moon, illuminating him with no cloud in sight. 

“She really is amazing, isn’t she?” he spoke so softly, looking over at me. 

“Who..?” 

“The moon,” he chokes back a little laugh. “She’s incredible.” He looks so happy as he looks back up at the sky. The chill of November made it so I could see his breath as we walked, but it also kept me closer to him in hopes of stealing some of his warmth. 

Our hands timidly brush against each other a few times until he glances down, sliding his hand into mine. I just know Cassie is somewhere screaming over how  I am with him. I just look at our hands intertwined, the way his thumb just runs over mine, and smile when he squeezes a little to make me look at him. 

“Your chariot, madame,” he says, gesturing his free hand to my car. 

“Oh, thank you, sir.” I try to play along, letting a small laugh slip partway through. We just stood there in comfortable silence for a second, still hand in hand. 

“So,” he mumbles, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I nod, fighting the urge to just stare at his mouth. 

“Drive home safe. Text me when you make it. You know the drill at this point,” his sweet giggle lacing the latter half. 

“Of course, mhm,” I tell him, moving a little closer to him, “I hope you have a good rest of your night, Jacob.” His eyes practically twinkling in the moonlight as I gaze at him. He leans in, his plump lips pressed into mine but backs up quickly with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Back to my full name already?” his smug little tone made me laugh. My hands grab the sides of his face, pulling him back in for another kiss. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to call you Captain in public after that,” I say against his lips; he lets out a small groan at the name. 

“I’ll let it slide this time,” he mocks me, stepping back and grabbing my hands. He pulls them up, placing little kisses across my knuckles. How is he real? He reaches past me to open my car door. 

“Now, get home before it’s too late.” 

I toss my bag into the passenger seat before sitting down and starting it. Turning to him one more time, looking up at him, I can’t stop myself from smiling. I grab his shirt and tug him towards me. His hand holding onto the doorframe, leans down, hovering over my mouth until I finally cave.

 “One more,” I mumble before closing the gap between us. He laughs into me, knowing I full well just stole his line. 

“I’ll be waiting for your text,” he says, pointing at me with his eyebrows raised as he moves back to shut my door. 

I sit there for a minute, just watching as he walks back towards the bar until he’s finally out of sight. I click on the address in my maps and set my phone in the cup holder. Looking back up at the moon, seeing how bright it is tonight. She is beautiful. 

I can’t take my eyes away from it, feeling the tears settling in, and into the quiet of my car I whisper, “I hope you’re proud of me, and god, I wish I could call you right now.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Thirteen

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[stardustincarnate]

I'm Scared, Hold Me // Yoosung Kim x Reader

FEMALE READER.

SUMMARY: Watching a horror movie sounded like the perfect excuse for cuddling.

WORD COUNT: 1628 words.

GENRE: Fluff.

WARNING: Cringe nicknames. Because people in love do and say cringe stuffs. Also, possible grammatical and typographical errors ahead.

♡ writing commissions | art commissions ♡

A/N: It has been a year or two since I wrote this... ig its about time I post it. I had some obsession with Yoosung back then, hehe.

Yoosung couldn't think straight. He was nervous. He was of course very excited too, even though it wasn't the first time seeing you—but it was his first time watching a movie with you. Unsurprisingly, people like him would feel nervous due to overthinking what's going to happen between you two during the movie. Especially if it were romance... But apparently that wasn't the case. Though he badly wished it was.

You two were going to watch a horror movie. It's not like he had a choice, anyway. When you told him you preferred watching scary movies he felt something drop to his gut. Horror movies?! But.. but how could he get a chance to slip his hands through yours and lock eyes with you during the most romantic part of the movie so that you two could actually do what the protagonists were doing and—oh boy. He didn't want to disappoint you so he just acquiesced.

He was quick to open the door after you had knocked. Flustered with you jumping into his arms, he sort of malfunctioned before he returned the hug. Not too tightly as he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

"I brought extra snacks for us!"

"O-Oh! But Seven already spared us a few Honey Buddha Chips and I've got some more popcorn and my mom also cooked for us.."

"Yoosung, you're forgetting one thing!"

"Oh—right!! Pizza..! How could I?!"

"Not to worry! Your knight in shining armor slash princess has brought two boxes of pizza for her baby!"

"Baby?"

"Are you not letting me come in?"

"Of course not [Y/N]! I mean—come on in!" Yoosung chuckled, nervousness evident on his tone.

Eventually the movie commenced. Initially you two were sitting with a decent space between you in the sofa but somehow before the opening credits had ended, Yoosung had found his way right beside you. And when you rested your head on his shoulder and placed your palm on his chest, he swore he had never been as red as during that day.

It was so romantic, thought he, if you were to minus the horrors currently unfolding on the monitor.

With a heap of other snacks in front of you which Yoosung had apparently forgotten existed as he was busy trying not to freak out during the first few minutes and break his manly side in front of you, you stared intently at the screen while finishing half the box of pizza.

"Oh no! Don't believe him he's just pranking you! And unknowingly putting you in danger!! Don't go in ther—oh no don't be so stupid!"

Yoosung peeled his eyes from the monitor and looked at you, a tad shocked to see you looking at him with a certain smile on your face. He was torn between thinking of it as cute or suspicious...

You giggled. "You know, the main character reminds me a lot of you."

"Eh?! But I'm not that gullible. Am I?"

"Oh, sure, chocolate milk." Yoosung shunned your gaze with his face beet red. "My cutie Yoosung." You continued, poking his cheek. He rubbed his nape and pouted, reluctantly admitting, "I guess I do find myself stumbling on pranks most of the time.. but at least now I know better not to go into an abandoned wing in case Seven tells me another one of his nonsense!"

The moment the protagonist entered the abandoned wing of the building, the door shut behind him with a loud thud. At the same time you two heard the creaking of the door.

And it wasn't part of the movie.

"Who's there?!" Yoosung squeaked and wrapped his arms around you—maybe a little too tightly—and kept on turning his head, albeit too afraid to actually look at the door.

"Yoosung, it's me!"

"Oh, mom..."

"Sorry.. I didn't interrupt anything, did I? I was just wondering if you wanted some drinks."

"Oh.. sure!"

His mother left two more bottles of soda in front of you before leaving. Once you two were alone, Yoosung realized that he didn't stop hugging you. Poor boy panicked and blushed furiously.

"I-I'm sorry [Y/N]! Did I squeeze you too hard? I'm sorry! And it's not like I was scared. Definitely not!! I just wanted to protect you in case there really was a gho—wah!! [Y/N]..!!"

There was a jumpscare. Well—it looked like one to him. Yoosung clung onto you and hid his face on your neck, his hair tickling you which made you giggle and blush furiously. You ruffled his hair and sighed fondly, "Calm down Yoosung. That's just his friend, not the ghost."

"What..?" Very slowly and reluctantly, he looked at the monitor and let out a huge sigh of relief. And just seconds later he was a fumbling mess of blushes and apologies again. "[Y/N] I'm so so sorry! Ahh.. nooo.. That wasn't very manly of me, was it? I promise to do better! It won't happen again!"

Oh, this adorable boy you so deeply loved. Sure. You grinned. But you both knew well that it was a lie, for everytime there was a scene that his brain had identified a 'jumpscare' his body would automatically attach itself into yours and he'd cover his face with his hands. Other than the crunchy munching of those Honey Buddha Chips and the sound from the movie, his squeaks filled the room.

You were having a hard time controlling your laughter. You didn't want to tease him.. Oh, poor boy! You almost took pity on your boyfriend. But to see him like that—in a state you perceived as absolutely adorable, with his hands resting on your shoulder and unintentionally squeezing them while he tried to cower behind you—really, would anyone want that moment to end? Reckon he would just have to forgive you for 'torturing' him by making him watch something that scared him to the bones. And, of course, he would forgive you for this.

Anything for you.

Although you were the one who suggested to watch a horror movie in the first place, you couldn't say that some parts didn't scare you. As it got closer to the climax, you started fidgeting your fingers, which Yoosung soon took notice. Yoosung looked at you, and a tad hesitant, he wrapped his arms around you. The tension ebbed from your body as you allowed yourself to succumb in his warm embrace. It was tentative, his hold, at first. But as moments passed and more horrors frightened the both of you, his touch eventually gave in and turned into something tight, sure, and something that felt like home, right where you belonged.

He wasn't even watching anymore. It had become a turmoil there and your occasional squeaks told him that the scene unfolding wasn't something he'd relish to see. And without heed you placed your hand above his, rubbing gently on that soft skin which caught his attention. He returned the favor and grabbed the opportunity to bring your hand underneath his—that way he could share more of his warmth with you, and that way which also allowed him to weave his fingers through yours, causing an eruption of red on both your cheeks.

"Are you okay [Y/N]?" He whispered. You looked at him—his eyes, his lips—then back to his eyes.

"I'm scared, hold me."

Yoosung was more than happy to oblige. He'd become rather bold by then. You closed your eyes as butterflies manifested themselves inside your stomach from the way he brought you sitting on his lap, his arms around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. His fingers found their way to gently comb your hair and bring them forth over your right shoulder, exposing your nape. He thought of doing it—hesitating over and over again until he gathered enough courage which spilled all over his chest, and then he was peppering your nape with the gentlest of pecks, his lips carefully grazing over your then shivering skin, the touch nothing but a lick of the wind, a flicker. The butterflies multiplied, and the heat burned your cheeks, your nape, and your ears.

The pleasant sensation contrasted starkly with the gore afoot on the screen, the turmoils unfolding in the movie. But they were paid with no heed, and in fact had been reduced into but little to no sounds by the remote which Yoosung had taken a hold of with one hand, while the other remained wrapped around your stomach, the warmth of his palm permeating your skin as he made circles with it in a careful, loving manner.

Horror movie long forgotten, you two settled on ensconcing yourselves on one another, laying on the couch, limbs interweaving, fingers interlaced.

Four words, and they were all it took for what he had been surreptitiously dreaming of and what he thought was only possible if you two had settled prior with a romance movie, to happen.

Four words, and a horror movie, and suddenly the idea of the latter wasn't so terrible anymore. Yoosung could live with that, as long as more opportunities of moments like this could present themselves before him.

Moments of you laying on his chest, delightfully humming and tracing patterns on his skin—patterns you could only see. The silence was cozy, brimming with affection. The pizza was only remembered when it was already tepid, and it took longer than it would've had been consumed if you two weren't so entangled with each other, laughing, giggling, and smiling at the sheer fact that you were placed in an intimate, comfortable position.

Yoosung smiled to himself, wishing that perhaps, even at times you aren't scared, even at the most arbitrary moments, he would get the chance to hold you like this.

Close to his heart.

Closer to his soul.

[maximoffromanoffs]

First Kiss

Today was just another day on set. Or almost just another day.

We were in the middle of filming a movie, one in which I was over the moon to be chosen for the part. Getting to work with Scarlett was a dream, but getting to play her love interest was even better.

But just as that scene (I previously felt so excited about) is coming up, I’m feeling myself getting increasingly more nervous. Having never kissed anyone before, I don’t want to make it bad. I know it’s just for the screen but I still don’t want to embarrass myself in front of Scarlett. I mean it’s Scarlett Johansson.

It’s one of those scenes where we’re speaking, but she cuts me off by cupping my cheeks and kissing me essentially. But they told us to not make it fast, like to let the audience see the decision to lean in for the kiss, before we actually do so.

Yet the moment I feel her hands reach for my face, I panic, grabbing her hands and pulling them off my face for a moment. Uttering my apologies for messing up the scene, Scarlett shakes her head and says “It’s okay y/n, really. You want to try again?” I nod, and we repeat our previous actions, reading our lines, and just as she’s leaning in I can’t help but pull away again.

This time I look to the director asking if I can have a short break, needing a moment to breathe. As soon as I get the nod of approval from them, I take off, stopping on a bench around the corner. I pull my legs up and sit resting my head down on my knees, trying to persuade myself to get over it and just kiss her.

I’m mumbling to myself “Stop being so stupid, just do it, it’s only a scene.” I’m cut off when I feel a gentle hand on my back and I turn to see Scarlett with a worried look on her face.

“Hey honey, is it okay if I join you?” I can’t help the blush that spreads across my face, as I nod to her words.

“You doing okay? I knew something was up because you usually never mess up our scenes.”

I notice she’s looking at me, and can’t help but meet her eyes, until I realise I still haven’t said anything in response to her. I’m just staring.

I’m sure I’m blushing even harder than before as I say “I’m okay. I just um- haven’t ever, you know.”

Noticing I’m getting anxious again, she places a hand on my thigh and strokes her thumb across my leg. “Haven’t ever what, my love?”

I look down to avoid making eye contact as I mumble “I haven’t ever kissed anyone..” as quickly as I possibly can.

There’s a moment of silence, and I automatically assume she’s judging me, I mean most people have their first kiss in school. I know it’s weird that I still haven’t kissed anyone, and that I didn’t mention that when I agreed to be in a romance film with Scarlett, but I really didn’t think it would be an issue for me. Oh how wrong I was.

She breaks me out of my thoughts, when she places a gently finger under my chin, to direct me to look at her face. When I do, she has a gentle smile on her face.

She has such an infectious smile I can’t help but smile back, making her hum, happy she’d made me smile again.

I almost choke when she asks me “You want me to teach you?” She cups my cheeks, as if to not let me pull away this time.

“Deep breath lovey, you’re okay.” I listen to her words and take a deep breath. She leans in a little, pressing a kiss to my cheek, then whispering “Close your eyes.” with her lips still pressed into my skin.

My breath hitches in my throat, as I obey and close my eyes.

I feel her soft breathing against my lips as she's getting closer to my face. Her lips already touching mine as she mumbles "keep breathing" before fully pressing her lips against mine.

It's nothing major, nothing too much, just a simple kiss to make me more comfortable with the scene.

As she pulls away I see her signature smirk spreading across her face as she continues to cup my face and keep me close.

She then asks "Wasn't too scary, huh?" making me giggle while shaking my head. "No, definitely not."

We both stand and decide to head back to set, me feeling a lot more ready for our 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 kiss.

[crguang]

Okay so I know this might not be your usual ask to receive but I kind of wanted to say something here.

To be clear I am straight.... Or so I thought?

A few weeks ago I discovered a post of yours; the post being the love language fic and at that time I had no idea what Honkai star rail is but for some reason I had to read it.

It blew my mind away.

It was like opening a door that was locked deep inside my brain. I quickly became enamored to the character Himeko. So much so I played the game lol. I don’t know how to describe the feeling but it’s like, my stomach turns and my heart clenches just the thought of the red head. There’s more to the feeling but sadly I’m no writer and English is not my first language…. (I had to pull out an English dictionary.)

All my life I’ve been straight. I dated twice and it was all guys. But they were assholes. I remembered the first guy, he was nice at first but after 3 weeks he wanted someone more prettier. I think I felt a twinge of pain but that was just about it. I thought I would be bawling my eyes out like in romance movies. The second was something I don’t remember clearly. I fell out of love for him and he hated me for that. I felt bad but to be fair he was narcissistic.

Anyways, I read more of your fics and everytime I read a Himeko one, my brain turns to mush. She looks and sounds so gentle and at the same time looks so divine! If she offered me her coffee I will gladly accept it and kiss her. Oh to be loved by a sun goddess.

I’m kind of rambling now. I’m sorry it’s so long. I had to get this out of my chest somehow. I don’t know if this is a phase or not. I’ve never experienced something like this before and definitely not for a fictional character.

Can I ask for some advices please? I’m sorry if it’s too much, you can just ignore this.

this is sooo adorable, i’m so flattered that my writing has made you feel something you’ve never experienced before, even more so that it’s something so beautiful. don’t worry about your English, i understand you completely. i love that Himeko can make you a little giddy, she’s definitely a sweetheart!!! i’m also sorry that the men you’ve dated were such assholes, you deserve better and i’m glad that they can no longer affect you.

i can only really speak of my experience here, but i realized i liked women when i read fics as well. i’d read about natasha romanoff and harley quinn (i was a superhero nerd😞) and it’s after the twentieth fic that i went, “wait, why am i reading about dating girls?” it was done very subconsciously because i never approached the matter again, it felt normal and natural to me despite my upbringing and what was hard was figuring out if i liked men at all. i’d have favourite male fictional characters that i’d tell myself i would marry if they were real (not true) or have celebrity “crushes” that i’d tell myself i would date (nuh huh) but the common denominator— except lying to myself— was that these people were all inaccessible to me. when i was faced with men irl, i felt nothing. when i tried dating apps, i’d never swipe right and only feel icky at the thought of a man touching me.

all that to say that if you imagine yourself kissing and dating a woman, it might mean something more. it’s not a definite answer, and honestly it depends how you feel about women in real life too. you can have crushes on fictional characters and feel nothing irl, i have lesbian friends who swoon over some male characters but they’d never be with a man. for me, reading reader insert fics about women meant that i wanted to date them. for you, it might mean something different. i would say not to panic about it, you can find yourself at your own pace and not to judge the questions you ask yourself or the conclusion you come to. whether you just like men, or women, or everyone— it’s a beautiful thing and you shouldn’t feel anxious or nervous about figuring that out. thank you for sharing this with me, i’m really happy that you wanted to talk to me about it and never apologize for rambling, this is a safe space!!!!

wishing you all the best 🫶🏾

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer II - Track 17 - Special

Summary: What if it wasn’t the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky’s story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.

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Track 17 Word Count: 4.5k+

Read The Entertainer

Five days in Florida with Harry on tour had proven to be a dream come true. After the next two shows, Harry was on such a high that I swore I could see stars in his eyes. He took me back to our room, stripping me hungrily before making love to me so good that my eyes would roll back in my head. For a second, I worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, his sexual desire insatiable, especially if he kept it up for the duration of the tour. But he only laughed when I told him this, declaring it was only because I was there to turn him on - as if nothing nor no one else possibly could.

“I see the bulge in your jeans when you’re on stage, Styles,” I teased him. “You turn yourself on.”

By the time the tour was set to head to Atlanta, Harry’s album was already in the top twenty, and still climbing the charts. Irving told the band that if the album reached number one during the tour, he’d treat everyone to a party at whichever hotel we were staying. Harry, ever the humble musician, claimed every night was like a party to him to just be able to sing his songs. But I knew deep down that he would love to reach number one after having gone solo.

Night after night I stood in the wings watching my man as thousands of fans screamed for him. A few times I’d catch a woman giving him the eye, hoping to catch his. He’d flirt with a wink or a smile, but it didn’t make me jealous. I knew I had nothing to worry about. It was part of his persona, part of his charm. And he had loads to spare.

After everyone, including myself and the crew, had settled into a routine, I noticed Bret wasn’t always joining the rest of the band when we’d watch Stargazer. I didn’t think much of it, but I asked Harry if something was going on.

“Nah, not really,” he replied, his arms crossed over his chest. “I reckon he’s still sore about Irving and me threatening him. He just wants to do his own thing.”

“Oh,” I frowned, secretly worrying if it had anything to do with me. But I quickly brushed off the notion.

“I don’t really care as long as he shows up for our set and plays well,” Harry added.

That night, however, when Harry and I stepped off the elevator, I heard sounds coming from the room across from ours, which I knew to be Bret’s room. Like deja vu all over again, I shook my head and scoffed.

“We can’t be the only ones shagging, babe,” Harry chuckled as he put the key in the door.

“I know. I was just remembering your old bandmate, Lee.”

“Oh,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah.” I followed him into our room where he quickly stripped out of his sweat-soaked t-shirt. When he sat on the bed to pull off his boots, he looked up at me. “You only got to see the first stage. It got worse.”

“With Lee?” I asked as I toed off my shoes and sat down next to him.

“Yeah, that Eagles tour was like…um, nevermind, I probably shouldn’t say,” he shook his head. “Let’s just say Lee was never alone.”

“Were you?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Harry spewed out a nervous chuckle as he pulled off his second boot and set them both against the wall, avoiding my gaze.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I commented.

“Babe, you have to understand. I was a kid then. We all were. And we were on tour with one of the biggest bands at the time. We didn’t have to go looking for girls. They were just…there.”

“Harry, you don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. I was a groupie, too, remember?”

“No,” Harry shook his head as he stood before me. “You weren’t.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes as I dismissed his comment and scooted up the bed, resting against the pillows.

“Sky…” he murmured, crawling up my legs. “We’re not gonna have this conversation again, are we? You know I always thought of you as special.”

“I know.”

“I mean, Jesus, that’s why you’re here now!”

“I know!” I emphasized with a grin. Then combing my fingers through his hair, I planted a kiss on his lips. “I guess part of me always wished I had just been a groupie. Then maybe you would have asked me to come along.”

“Baby…” he exhaled. “You know that’s not true.”

“I guess not. I just always wondered.”

“You would have hated it anyway.”

“How do you know?” I smirked.

“I just do.” I watched as his jaw set, and I knew the conversation was over. It was just as well. He was probably saving me from hurt, from ruining my idea of him if he were to elaborate. And the truth was, I didn’t wanna know.

“So, Lee,” I said instead. “Something changed, right? You said his girlfriend was having a baby.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry nodded his eyes wide. “She’s probably due pretty soon.”

I smiled. “How did that all happen?”

Harry beamed at me. “Same as me and you. He was smitten.”

I blushed as he rolled over to lay down next to me, his hand traveling down the front of my shirt. “Is she a music lover, too? Like me, I mean.”

“No, not so much like you. I dunno, honestly. He was just taken with her from the moment they met. It was during our second headlining tour. She was from Kansas, or Oklahoma or somethin’. Anyway, after that she was just always around. At least for the rest of the tour. He didn’t look at any other girls.”

“That’s sweet,” I smiled, resting my head on my elbow. “I’m glad he found someone.”

Harry gazed at me then, his eyes seeming to study my face, though his eyes didn’t move from mine.

“I do wish you’d been with me, baby. I’m sorry you weren’t.”

“Me too,” I simply said.

“Life is just a fantasy Can you live this fantasy life…”

The band had a night off in Nashville, and Mitch joked that we should go to a country-western bar as there seemed to be plenty down the street from our hotel. But Hunter and his crew had other plans. They insisted we join them at a new nightclub that had opened last fall and had been featured in magazines.

As soon as we walked in, I could feel the L.A. vibes. I made a mental note to tell Halo about this one.

Harry held my hand as we zig zagged through the crowd to the bar, following Hunter. Almost immediately, eyes were upon us, a few dropped jaws. Then I heard a squeal as Hunter approached the bar.

“Oh my God, you’re Hunter Howe!” exclaimed a thin blonde wearing a leather mini skirt and matching tube top.

Hunter merely gave her a wink before addressing the bartender. I heard him order tequila shots all around as well as a bottle of something I’d never heard of.

“Do you want something else?” I heard Harry ask in my ear. “I can get you a beer or a cocktail.”

“The shot is fine, but I think I’ll take a beer,” I nodded.

Having spent the last few weeks on the road with Stargazer, I’d learned these guys loved to party. They would also partake in a few recreational drugs, and while I didn’t mind being around it so much, I still preferred my beer and weed to champagne and coke.

By the time we all gathered around a couple of booths in the corner, the blonde who’d recognized Hunter had also recognized Harry and the rest of the guys. She introduced some of her friends, and I was pretty sure a few other girls who weren’t her friends came around to introduce themselves.

“Hi, handsome,” a sultry voice said as a thin, ringed-hand slid down Harry’s back. He was standing next to the table as I sat at the end of the booth. He quickly turned to look at the tall woman. “I saw you in concert a while back. You’re even better looking up close.”

“Thank you, love,” Harry gave his signature lopsided grin.

Lifting her hand to touch a curl that grazed his shoulder, the woman licked her lips. “You have gorgeous hair. I bet it feels amazing to grab onto.”

I opened my mouth, ready to say something when she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. Then I watched Harry grab her wrist and pull it down, away from his hair.

“Sorry, love. I’m flattered. But I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh?” the woman’s eyes widened.

As Harry gestured toward me, I lifted my hand and wiggled my fingers, a smug grin on my face. The woman rolled her eyes and scoffed. As she walked away, I heard her argue with one of the other girls.

“I thought rock stars were always looking to get laid. This one brings his girlfriend to a nightclub.”

“Sorry, baby,” Harry said to me.

I shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s kinda funny, actually.”

“I’m glad you can have a sense of humor about it,” he smiled.

Just then, some of the Stargazer guys called Harry and waved him over. He squeezed my shoulder to let me know he’d be right back. I sipped on my beer as I watched women in sequins dance with men in suits. Danny sat on the other side of the table, a girl on either side of him as they giggled and stroked his mustache.

“Your man leave you, sweetheart?” a voice asked, making me jump. I looked up to see Bret, a tall glass of some concoction in his hand.

“No,” I narrowed my eyes. “He’s over there, talking to his friends.”

“More like some babes,” he commented, gesturing behind me.

I shifted in my seat to get a better view. Harry was indeed in a conversation with two pretty girls who sat looking up at him with stars in their eyes. One of them crossed her legs in a not-so-inconspicuous way as she ran her fingers through her long hair. They both giggled as Harry gestured with his hands. Hunter stood next to him, but he might as well have been invisible. The girls were only focused on Harry.

“It’s still called talking,” I remarked, turning back to face Bret.

“Fine, then I’ll talk to you,” he insisted, gesturing for me to scoot over.

I resisted making a face, not wanting to cause a scene in such a public place. Sliding over in the booth, I made barely enough room for him.

“Try this,” he said, holding out his glass.

“No thanks.”

“C’mon. It’ll help you loosen up.”

“I’m loose enough, thank you,” I remarked, instantly regretting my words.

“Oh, yeah?” Bret chuckled. “You didn’t tell me that, babe.”

I felt his hand on my thigh just as Harry and Hunter walked over. I let out a tiny squeak when he squeezed my flesh, my eyes darting to Danny who hadn’t seemed to notice any of our interaction. But when I looked up at Harry and Hunter, the latter had a strange look on his face. Swallowing hard, I managed to smile as Harry set his glass on the table and held out his hand.

“Do you wanna dance?”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “This is a dance club.”

I eyed Bret who scoffed before standing up to let me out. Rising from the booth, I took Harry’s hand. “Just didn’t picture you the disco type.”

“Hey, we danced at your work party.”

“That was different.”

“How so?” Harry asked as he pulled me onto the dance floor.

“I knew everybody there. Here, everybody knows you.”

“Not personally,” he said, sliding his hands around my waist.

His eyes met mine as he swayed his hips to the beat, grinding against me. I couldn’t help but get lost in the feeling, the bass pumping through my veins. I forgot about Bret’s inappropriate behavior and the strange look on Hunter’s face. Wrapping my arms around Harry’s neck, I smiled up at him. For a moment I wondered what it would feel like to be one of those other women. Pretending that I wasn’t his girlfriend, I imagined being a random girl at the club that he had asked to dance, or maybe I’d asked him. His sexy gaze and full lips made me want to kiss him right there on the dance floor, in front of everyone. As he pulled me even closer, I considered it, our lips nearly touching. I imagined kissing him so deeply, so deliberately, grabbing hold of his curls just like the tall woman had mentioned. But breaking me from my reverie, my boyfriend beat me to it.

Our mouths collided in an eager pursuit, a need to feel each other. Harry’s tongue filled my mouth, hastily searching for my own in order to join in our silent conversation. I moaned against him, my fingers tangling in his hair just like I’d imagined in my head. I could already feel his erection growing, his hips grinding harder against me while his hands cupped my ass, his fingers threatening to make their way up my skirt.

“Touch me and I feel on fire Ain’t nothin’ like a love desire I’m melting, like hot candle wax Sensation, lovely where we’re at…”

The song was speaking my language, but I knew we had to stop. I groaned his name as our lips began to separate.

“Fuck, babe, I want you,” he panted, his forehead pressed to mine. “Right now.”

“You wanna leave?” I asked, my heart beating fast.

“No. Let’s find…someplace.”

“Harry…” I gasped just before he took my hand again and guided me through the crowd. I could feel the eyes on us like when we came in, and a few people even tried to stop Harry to chat, but he ignored them all, pulling me to the back of the club to the hallway with the bathrooms.

“Shit,” he muttered when he noticed the line to the ladies room.

“Harry, we’re not…” I argued, but before I could finish, he punched the door open to the men’s room, returning only to grab my wrist and pull me inside just as a man in a white shirt came walking out. I didn’t even have time to protest before he locked the door and hiked up my skirt.

“Now, baby,” he growled. “We don’t have much time.”

Speechless, I watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his hard cock. Then with an exasperated grunt, he lifted me up and set me on the counter. Lifting my skirt higher, he yanked off my panties and aimed his erection at my center, entering me swiftly. I cried out, grabbing hold of his shoulders.

He pounded into me hard, my thighs burning as I tried to hold them up and open. I watched his face as he breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring like he was angry. But I knew he wasn’t. He was on a mission, and it was such a turn-on.

“So fucking good, babe,” he groaned. “I needed to feel you.”

I licked my lips, my breaths jagged as I gasped every few seconds. I tried my best not to be loud, but it was difficult. He felt so good, too.

“Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me how good my cock feels.”

“So good, Harry,” I breathed. “Always. I needed you, too.”

“Yeah? Come for me, baby. Tell me you need me.”

“Mmmm, I need you, Harry.”

“Say it louder. Say you need to come.”

The veins in his neck popping, I knew he was nearing his release. My legs trembled as I tried to get my bearings.

“Harry…” I moaned louder. “Oh God, baby, please. I need it.”

“Yeah.”

“I need it so bad! Oh, God!”

I cried out, loud this time, as I came harder than I ever remembered coming. Harry groaned as his head fell back, releasing himself inside me. After his body stopped shaking, I dropped my legs and he kissed me.

“Fuck…” he muttered, his voice two octaves lower.

Readjusting our clothing, Harry helped me down from the sink, and we washed our hands.

“I should leave him an extra tip,” said Harry as he laid several bills on the tray next to bottles of cologne and grabbed a mint.

My jaw dropped as I stared at him incredulously. “That was the bathroom attendant you sent out!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Harry cackled.

I playfully slapped his arm before he guided me to the door. My face blushed pink as we exited the public toilet, but I averted my eyes to the right instead of at the line of women waiting for the bathroom.

I instantly regretted it, however, when I noticed a line had formed next to the men’s room. And standing next to the attendant was none other than Hunter Howe, a similar look on his face as before, as though he and I shared some unspoken secret. Only this time, his lips twitched up into a smirk.

“I want you to sing along with me on this one,” Harry encouraged the crowd before he grabbed the microphone from the stand and the band went into “Only Angel.”

The audience erupted as usual as Harry strutted across the stage. I still got weak in the knees whenever he’d gaze over at me and give me a wink.

“He seems to be getting better and better,” I heard a voice declare in my ear.

I turned my head slightly to see Hunter Howe standing behind me. Directly behind me. So close that I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Uh…yeah, yeah he does,” I nodded, crossing my arms.

I felt a sudden chill, and I wasn’t sure if it was from Hunter’s proximity or the fact that I had my hair up off my neck. Ever since that night at the disco, I had felt uneasy around Stargazer’s front man. I wasn’t deliberately trying to avoid him, but something about his gaze that evening had made me feel uneasy. And even though I constantly saw him with a female, something told me he was interested in me in some way. Or perhaps he was like Bret and just wanted any woman he could get.

“He’s certainly giving me a run for my money,” Hunter chuckled.

Narrowing my eyes, I turned around. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know. I opened for his band last tour. Now he’s opening for me. But our albums are neck and neck on the charts. The girls are screaming just as loud for him. It’s just close, that’s all.”

“It’s not a competition,” I frowned.

“Isn’t it?” Hunter raised a brow.

I didn’t like the way his eyes gazed over my body then, and I was about to say something when he turned and walked away. The chill returning, along with a sour pit in my stomach, I stood and watched the remainder of Harry’s show. When he walked off the stage, I hugged and kissed him, giving him the praise he deserved. But when I joined him in the dressing room, I announced my plan to skip Stargazer’s set.

“What? Why?” asked Harry.

“I’m…just not feeling that great,” I lied. Well, maybe only half lied. I did feel like throwing up.

“Are you getting sick?” Harry looked at me concerned.

“No, no I…don’t think so. I think I just need some rest. Do you mind…if I just go back to the hotel? You can stay.”

“No, it’s okay, babe. I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to,” I insisted. “You still have a long night to enjoy. I’ll just curl up with a book or watch something on TV. Just promise to kiss me goodnight when you get back.”

“Of course, baby,” he murmured, giving me a preview, his soft lips caressing mine. “I hope you feel better.”

Once in the hotel room I shared with Harry, I took a shower and wrapped myself in a plush robe, exhaustion soon taking over me. Crawling into bed, I turned off the light, hoping to be awakened by Harry’s kiss once he returned.

But instead I was awakened with a jolt by the sound of something banging outside my door. Rising from the bed, I opened the door slightly and peeked through the crack. Bret stood on the other side, naked as the day he was born, banging his fist on the door to his room.

“Let me in, Sarah!” he shouted.

After a few more knocks, the door opened, a blonde head poking out.

“My name’s not Sarah, you moron!”

The door slammed shut just as Bret brought his fist up again. “Shit! Fucking…Sharon! That’s it! Sharon, baby, let me in! Please! Open the door, sweetheart!”

The blonde swung the door open then, stepping past the naked drummer. “You’re a scumbag! I’m outta here!”

“Sar-Sharon! I’m sorry, babe!”

Sharon scoffed as she strutted down the hall in her high heels and pressed the button for the elevator. When it arrived, Mitch and Danny stepped off with two girls I didn’t recognize. Danny cackled when he saw Bret, but Mitch merely stared with judging eyes.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” yelled Bret before stepping into his room and slamming the door behind him.

Mitch spotted me in my doorway then, giving me a tiny grin. “Harry’s on his way. We got mobbed in the lobby, and he’s still signing autographs.”

“Oh. Cool, thanks.”

After his short nod, I closed my door and laid back down on the bed to wait for Harry. It was a little longer than I thought it would be, and I must have started to doze off, but when I heard the click of the key, I rolled over, relieved.

“Hi,” I whispered in the darkness as he started to get undressed.

“Baby…what are you doing awake?”

I proceeded to tell him about the Bret fiasco, to which he cackled like Danny had.

“He’s such a fucking wanker,” he snorted as he crawled into bed beside me. “I’m sorry he woke you up, though.”

“It’s okay. Now I get to talk to you.”

“Mmm,” Harry hummed as he pulled my body to his.

“Mitch said you guys got mobbed downstairs.”

“Yeah. No big deal. Hunter got the worst of it. Some chick ripped off his shirt.”

I cringed at the name, my body stiffening in his arms.

“You okay, babe?” Harry whispered, sensing my discomfort. “Are you still feeling bad?”

“Oh, um…yeah. I’m feeling a little better though.”

“Good. Because I wanna love on you. If you’ll let me.”

I giggled as his nose and breath tickled my ear. “You act as if you don’t do that every day.”

“I know, how fucking lucky am I?” he growled, rolling me over onto my back as he hovered over me.

“I should just call you Horny Harry.”

“I’ve been called worse,” he said, cheekily. “Besides, how can I not be constantly horny with a beautiful woman like you with me?”

“I dunno. Mitch and Danny just had girls with them. I’m sure there were a few downstairs who were hoping to be invited up to your room.”

“Babe,” Harry scoffed, sitting back on his knees. “Why are you being like this?”

I sighed, silently scolding myself. “I’m sorry. That was mean.”

“Yeah. I can’t tell if you’re jealous or if you don’t trust me. Maybe both.”

“It’s neither, Harry. I’m just in a mood. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“Sky…” Harry sighed, lying back on top of me. Though the room was dark, I could see the sincerity in his face. “Baby, please don’t feel insecure about our relationship. I love you. I want you. Only you.”

A gentle smile crept across my lips as I lifted my hands to brush back his hair. “I know.”

“What’s got you feeling this way?”

“Nothing,” I swallowed. “I guess the reality of it all…it’s still like a fantasy life, but I’m living it. And I guess…I just don’t want the bubble to burst.”

I saw Harry’s head nod in the darkness before he leaned in to kiss me.

“I get it, baby. But you don’t need to worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

Pulling on his necklace, I brought his lips to mine again. He moaned against me when my tongue invaded his mouth. Then tugging on the hem of my polka dotted pajama top, he pulled it up and brought it over my head. After giving my nipples equal attention, he removed my sleep shorts, gently kissing up my thighs.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked in a raspy, breathy tone, settling between my legs.

I nodded, opening my legs wider. “Show me.”

He entered me slowly and gently then, not like the thirsty thrusts that night at the club. Our bodies rocked in rhythm with our breaths. Neither of us said anything until Harry lifted my thighs and drove deeper.

“I love you,” he whispered, a jagged cry in his voice.

“I love you, too,” I said.

He was quiet again except for his moans and heavy breathing. Wrapping his arms around me, he held me tightly, as he came.

“I love you, Sky,” he cried again. “I’ll love you forever.”

The next morning, which really was afternoon, I awoke to the sound of guitar strings. I smiled as I rolled over to see Harry sitting in the chair in the corner, strumming his Martin.

“Good morning, my angel,” he beamed.

“Morning, my rock god.”

His dimples in his cheeks, he continued to strum as he hummed a tune.

“What song is that?” I asked.

“It’s a new one, by .38 Special. I just heard it on the radio recently. I like it. Reminds me of you.”

I smiled, propping myself up on my elbow. “Sing it.”

“I dunno all the words yet,” he said. “But it’s something like…”

I watched Harry play the riff and sing along, the words he could recall reminding me of what he’d been telling me for a while.

“I’m so caught up in you, little girl You’re the one who’s got me down on my knees So caught up in you, little girl That I never wanna get myself free And baby, it’s true, you’re the one Who caught me, baby, you taught me How good it can be…”

My smile now permanent on my face, I giggled as he set down his guitar and crawled onto the bed.

“I am so caught up in you, Sky Jones,” he declared, his long hair tickling me as he laid his head on my chest.

“And you never wanna be free?” I asked, referring to the lyrics.

“Never. This is what I’ve been telling you.”

I thought of the girls at the nightclub with stars in their eyes. I imagined the girls who mobbed him and Hunter in the hotel lobby. I pictured the thousands of women in the audience night after night. He could have any of them.

Yet, he’d chosen me.

Songs mentioned:

Aldo Nova - Fantasy

Michael Jackson - Don't Stop Till You Get Enough

.38 Special - Caught Up in You

Taglist: @fkinavocado, @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies

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[wildflowerteas]

hella got through chapter 6 everyone cheer!

i don't know how to respond to this coherently so i'm just going to scroll down and let the word vomit happen:

the choice of emoji reacts to some of these . . . i'm surprised hella hasn't killed you guys. keeping gin away from this mess is the last thing on my mind, unfortunately *stares at the BEAST tag*

ARRGHHHFGHHH IM SO GLAD YOU GUYS LIKE SSKK. they're such a breath of fresh air, and writing them comes so easily to me. while i like writing skk ( fucked up as they are--even at this point in the story ) and the fast-paced nature of their relationship, this is romance writing work coming from the guy whose only other fic had a first kiss at uhhh...160k words.

yesenina did serve too hard. i imagine her as similair to the others, but with a Rita Hayworth-like air of ambition about her, and that's a serve. and it's what gets her killed.

Chuuya Yuan history coming in SOON. actually. Next chapter. seeing hella lose it over Chuuya's internal monologue here has been absolutely hilarious and kind of rewarding. I Knew All That because I'm the author ( duh ) so i never really grasped how strange the shift to Chuuya's thoughts about the relationship would be. I mean there's snippets of it, like the diner scene, but you're right, it's fanfic and so that is a lot easier to sweep under the rug.

ACAB. I considered putting a line from Doc Riedenschneider in The Asphalt Jungle ( 1950 ) "Experience has taught me to never trust a policeman. Just when you think one's alright, he turns legit." in a divider chapter between part I and part II, but I thought was too on the nose following 7 ( and a bit pretentious considering this is just ao3 fanfic and not a published work or anything ) so i grabbed myself by the metaphorical monkey backpack and didn't. Mafia Nepo Baby 😭 I love Hella HUGE WIN FOR ME. I was so nervous because i needed to balance Chuuya being observant but also quite literally *out of the loop.* He's not from the same world as Dazai--he's not involved with the murders or the politics or the mess going on yet. He comes across as oblivious at times because Dazai's POV is purposefully designed to make you see him that way. Dazai's so sure he's in control of what Chuuya knows that he doesn't realize he might have met his match.

ZSKK are uhm. yeah. all im gonna say there.

the "PARDON." IM CACKLING

argh. the switch up with this chapter...why the hell am i getting nostalgic for something i wrote less than two months ago ( ican't believe i've been grinding through this fic so fast jesus ).

i love unhealthy dynamics, truly. this fic was really a test to see if i could write soukoku making each other worse. which is a pretty stark contrast to my other stuff.

HELLA. OH MY GOD. that bit about their careers . . . i can't believe she noticed that. Chuuya started the fic genuinely ambitious, wanting the spotlight, wanting to defy expectations set upon him by his looks, his race, and his past. Dazai's a cop, sworn to uphold the law, but he doesn't feel like a good person. He can't ( interlude chapter . . . stares out the window ), but he can use everything about who he is to give Chuuya the life he wants. like a guardian ange--*gets taken out by a sniper chapter 8 style* Their original goals aren't gone, per se, they've simply been reoriented.

can't wait for chapter 7

i know it'll make Hella want to hunt me down for sport, so i'll sleep with both eyes open for the forseeable future.

[jaxteller87]

Valentine’s Day Surprise

Teenagers years  

There I stood, lingering in the hallway, silently observing the girls in the classroom reveling in the blossoming romance of receiving flowers from admirers, both secret and known. I purchased a single rose myself, and it was destined for Amber, the girl I’ve found myself secretly crushing on for a few weeks now. I was nervous to see how she’d react but excited at the same time.

“What’s going on?” Donna asked, approaching me from behind. Just as she fired off her words, Amber received the flower I got her. At first, she was surprised, just staring at it like it must have been some sort of mix-up or mistake. After a moment of convincing herself that perhaps it was actually destined for her, she closed her eyes, gently pressed the petals to her nose, and smiled.

“You think she likes it?” I asked.

Donna peered into the classroom and saw Amber smiling at the rose. “Ah, now I get it. Don’t take this the wrong way, Teller, but I see right through your tough, badass exterior. Believe it or not, deep down, you’re a softie.” 

“Just because I run with the Sons doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two about how to treat a woman,” I was talking to Donna, but I couldn’t stop looking at Amber.

“Yeah, I see how some of you SOA boys treat the ladies,” she sneered as if catching me in the act of something nefarious.

“Think what you will, but we’re not all like that.” At least not most of the time, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “I promise you, Don, I’m one of the good ones.”

She sized me up, “Yeah, maybe you are, Teller. Maybe you are.”

“I am. And my boy Opie isn’t too bad either,” I put in a good word for Ope, for what it was worth.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” she smiled awkwardly, clearly having strong feelings for him.

“What do you mean?”

“Look around, Teller. Even Brian Johnson got a flower for Lara Holtheimer, and he’s cheated on her twice,” Donna pointed to the fledgling lovebirds in the corner of the classroom.

I scoffed. “It was a lot more than twice,” I corrected her.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I know you guys are cut from a different cloth, but as a simple small-town girl, I guess I just kind of look forward to little quirky things like this,” she explained.

Just then, Phillip, the AV club president who was in charge of handing out the flowers and stuffed bears, cut in between us. ”Excuse me, Donna?”

“Um, yes?”

“Here, this is for you.” He handed her a little stuffed bear with a card.

“And you were saying?” I asked like a smartass.

“Aw!” Donna squealed with a knowing smile, realizing that her badass biker wasn’t a stranger to romantic gestures after all. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I had reminded him an hour past the cut-off window for orders, but after roughing up the kid in charge, we got Ope on the list.

Later that afternoon, the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the backyard, where I discovered Amber surrounded by her canine companions. Instead of her usual wheelchair, she was sitting on a lawn chair, which was a pretty rare sight. Taking the seat beside her, I looked into her eyes and forgot what I was going to say. 

“Thank you,” she blushed, breaking the short awkward silence.

“For what?”

“Don’t lie, Teller; I know it was you.”

I sat back in the chair and sighed, “Ah, I see. Donna tell ya?”

“Nope,” she chuckled, “You just did, though.”

I walked into that. “That’s not fair,” I joked, “but you’re welcome. Oh, and thanks for the candy bar I found in my locker.”

She gave me a puzzled look, “Dang, how’d you know it was me? Donna tell you?”

“Nah,” I smirked, “but you just did.”  We shared a laugh, and it felt magical. Everyone had been right; I found myself falling head over heels for Amber. Yet, an unspoken longing lingered—I wished she could see herself through my eyes. Perhaps, one day, she would. 

Many years later... 

I stepped out onto the porch, greeted by a surprise that warmed my heart — a bag filled with my favorite candies and a twelve-pack of beer. It was a thoughtful gesture from Amber, who, being pregnant, found it challenging to get in and out of the car, which meant she most likely had it delivered.

I told her a thousand times, expressing that she didn’t need to go to such lengths for me. But ever since high school, I had presented her with a single rose every Valentine’s Day, a tradition that I never broke once. Sure, some might say a single rose isn’t much, but to anyone who knows our story, it’s more about the memory than the monetary aspect. We grew up in the same town but came from two very different neighborhoods.

I strolled into the living room with the bag in my hand, catching Amber off guard. Before I could say a word, she immediately burst into tears. “You weren’t supposed to see that yet,” she confessed, joining me in the living room.

“Darlin’, what did I tell you?” 

“I know,” she sniffled, wiping her face on her sweater sleeve. “But I just felt bad. Every year, it warms my heart to see you keep up with a tradition that literally changed my life for the better. All those years in middle school, watching girls get Valentine’s cards, candies, and gifts, but none of them were ever for me. Well, aside from the pity presents from the teacher or super popular kids, but never from a secret admirer. I didn’t care, though; I knew I was different. I mean, some people are just cut out for different paths than others. It’s not fair, but it’s life. The sooner you realize that the sooner you can learn to enjoy everything else life has to offer.” 

Another wave of tears rolled down her cheeks, and then, unexpectedly, she started to giggle. “These damn hormones, I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I shouldn’t be crying over something so silly. Please forgive me, babe.”

“Relax, darlin’, of course, you are forgiven, my love,” I smiled, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I just don’t want you overexerting yourself on my behalf. The only surprise I need to come home to every day is you.”

“Okay, but—”

“No buts,” I interrupted.

“But babe—I really didn’t go too far out of my way.”

“Well, obviously you did; you had my favorite stuff ordered and scheduled to be dropped off on our doorstep,” I pleaded my point.

She had a shit-eating grin on her face. “Actually, I just asked Ope to pick it up on his way home from work and drop it off.”

I looked at her in disbelief for a moment before laughing at the simplicity of her plan. “Alright, fine. I guess that’s okay,” I smiled, planting a big, juicy kiss on her lips. “How about we make it an early night?”

“Jax, it’s not even 5:30 yet,” she said, glancing at the clock.

“It’s okay; no one has to know,” I smirked, kissing her forehead, slowly moving down her cheek and into her sweet spot on the neck. “But first, let’s get some dinner; I’m starving. Do you want to help me cook something?”

“Nah,” she shrugged.

“Nah? Why not?” I asked, almost offended.

“I also asked Opie to swing by that new steakhouse that opened up outside of Charming and pick us up ribeyes. I have the to-go containers hidden in the oven. It was going to be the rest of your surprise.”

“You were going to pass it off as your own cooking?” I asked, smirking at the idea.

“Perhaps,” she blushed, looking away.

“You are too funny! I love the shit out of you; do you know that?” I kissed her neck some more before she unloaded our meal from the oven.

And so, after a delightful steak dinner, we retreated to the coziness of our large bed.

“Thank you, sweetie. Happy Valentine’s Day,” she whispered.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, darlin’,” I whispered back.

[ari-writes-things]

Writer Questionnaire!

hi, thank you for the open tag @theverumproject!

How long have you had your writing tumblr/writeblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine!

Only for like a month.

What led you to create it?

I've recently been trying to find a community of writers since few of my friends are into writing.

What's your favourite thing about the writeblr community?

I love the way people are so passionate about so many different things!

What's one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

I can be just a little bit shy sometimes about making new friends. When I don't know people super well (or honestly even when I do) I get really nervous about being the first one to start a conversation. Even if I don't initiate interactions with you, know that I want to chat; I'm just a little nervous.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

"Write with me" type stuff or just little snippets from your writing that people thought were bangers.

Which wips or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

I have only one WIP that I've touched for the last six months and it is unnamed, but it's my queer romance novel!

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

I was talking with my friends about how I've never actually written any queer fiction despite being queer myself and doing a lot of writing. I also have been super into Y/A novels, especially the poetic sounding ones about identity and familial relationships so that really inspired my current work.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

Truly, anywhere from one to five hours a day?

When someone asks the dreaded, “what do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

Realistic fiction.

Name any characters you created. side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like

Ema Aguilar: She's from an old WIP with fantasy elements. Ema is the only character I've thought up to have wings and she's one of the youngest characters in the story (12). The story takes place in pretty much a war/apocalypse situation (it's complicated) and Ema is hiding out with a group of older kids. I have this scene (brief suicide tw) I've never gotten to, because I've never actually written her on paper, where Ema is caught throwing herself off the edge of a cliff over and over before catching herself with her wings and flying back up. In my mind, she's trying to kill herself but is too scared to follow through with it because her big issue is that she becomes paralysed by her own fear.

Who's the most unhinged?

Blair. I think they have committed crimes. Not many that I've officially written down, but they have totally committed crimes.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Riley. She's the only character I've ever written with neurodivergence in mind and I love the way I describe her thoughts. She's basically me, just having grown up under different circumstances.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Yeah, sometimes..

How much control do you feel you have over your characters? do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others?

I personally feel like I have a lot of control over my characters, but purely because I storyboard before I write so I know where I'm going and don't get lost. The only way I can work on long form projects is with a storyboard to guide me. My characters do "write themselves" sometimes in that the little things I haven't planned give them so much more flavour and personality, but I haven't ever felt like they've gotten away from me.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? and do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? for example, as asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on ao3, etc.

Oh my gosh, do I ever! YES YES YES!! If you see this, ask me questions please! Send me asks or replies or reblogs!! I wanna talk about my little brain children so much!

What makes you want to follow another writeblr account? Do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on wips, or vibes?

I see if they post at all about their original works mostly. I don't really follow blogs that only post actual excerpts, poems, or short stories, though. I don't really follow for the WIPs of other writers, but for their thoughts!

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

I get nervous so no, not often, but I do sometimes!

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

Unfortunately, I don't know their characters well enough to :(

Tagging @cb-writes-stuff, @zariahthewitch, and anyone who wants to do this too!

[jilyarchive]

MAY AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: OHMYGODSHESINSANE

Q: Where can we find you and your stories?

A: @ohmygodshesinsane​, AO3, FF.NET

Q: How would you describe your writing style?

A: Ooh, this is hard! I love writing a bit of banter but it’s the psyche underneath that I’m really drawn to, and the characters – I think of myself as writing about characters or relationships more than scenarios or plots. I like to hone in on the little moments rather than the big showstoppers. I’d rather write about the aftermath of a battle than the heat of it, and I love the mornings-after, the space between a confrontation and a revelation, and the first shared laugh rather than the first kiss. Maybe that’s the perfectionist in me coming out – I get nervous writing those big events, I get worried I’ll muck it up. And I love a party scene too. There’s something about the chaos that brings the important things into focus.

Q: How do you come up with ideas for your writing?

A: Honestly, other books and fics! I’ll read a romance novel and think – now, what if Lily and James had a conversation like that? Oh, and this could happen – and maybe Sirius did that bit – and instead of x, a and c happen. My real life does inspire a lot of it too. If I need to work through something, I’ll pull it to pieces in a fic. Or someone will tell me a story and I’ll think, ‘oh my god, I need to write something like that’. And it becomes something completely new by the time the writing’s done. I love prompts, too, I can’t get enough of them.

Q: When and why did you begin writing fanfiction?

A: I wrote my first fanfiction when I was around seven years old in a literacy lesson, and it was maybe three paragraphs based on The Lion King 2. Towards the end of 2010 I started writing HP fanfiction and in 2012 I started writing marauders and Jily fanfiction. I loved reading but I had a short attention span – I’d always start wondering, ‘but what if this happened? What if so-and-so did this instead?’, and I’d go scribble my ideas down. I could never watch movies all the way through because I’d run off to go play-act my own version of the story. And so it really just blossomed from that. I’ve spent over half my life writing fanfiction and I can’t imagine doing anything else with my free time.

Q: What’s one thing you’d tell someone who is considering reading one of your fics?

A: Thank you so much! It’s all homemade and written with love.

Q: What are some of your favorite Jily tropes?

A: I love a slow burn, if that counts. Otherwise probably Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Anguished Declarations of Love, and Forced Proximity in any way, shape or form. I love it when there’s a little angst mixed in there. And of course Quidditch Player/Professional Athlete!James x Journalist!Lily. It’s one of my absolute favourite AUs.

Q: What do you like most about the Jily fandom?

A: The Jily fandom is so friendly and welcoming! Never before have I felt so much like part of a community. People are so great about reading and commenting and sharing the love, and I love all the events we have. It’s very active and close-knit. It just has this truly lovely atmosphere.

Q: Pick a favourite Marauders era character.

A: Goodness, I have to go with Lily! She’s probably my all-time favourite to write, because I feel there’s just the right mix of canon information about her and things that are only hinted at that can be fleshed out. I could read character studies of her all day.

Q: Self-promo time! List the fics that you are most proud of writing.

A:

creature comfort – This fic has been with me through thick and thin since I first started writing it in 2017 (!!) and it’s been so fundamental to me re-engaging in fandom and improving my writing skills. It’s been quite the undertaking to write but I love carving out the world word-by-word, and it’s been such a crucial tool for me to build the world of HP as I see it and to get a sense of James and Lily and the rest of the gang’s characters.

baby it’s cold outside – My first (proper) smut fic which I spent ages worrying over and crafting. I love how it came together in the end. It’s essentially an AU with Quidditch Player! James, Journalist! Lily Evans, and only one room left… with just one bed.

Mercy – This is a more recent one, and a fic written almost entirely by accident – I intended for it to come in at about 300 words and it wound up nearing 3000. With every line I wrote I felt I was discovering something new about the story and about the characters, especially Lily. The process of writing it was really special, and it took me on a bit of a journey. It was difficult but enjoyable. As for the story itself, it’s a Jily Lives! AU from Lily’s perspective – a bit angsty. 

Q: Fic rec time! Could you recommend a few of your favourite Jily fics?

A:

The Life and Times by Jewels5 – This was the first Jily fic I followed along with update-by-update and it was what really cemented my shipping of these two. I reread it every year or so and find another layer to it that completely unravels my heart.

We Have Buried the Putrid Corpse of Liberty by @mabeltothknows​ – I am very late on reading this but I am loving every chapter. I can’t help but adore anything Jily and Married at First Sight and this fic combines them perfectly. It has so much heart and humour and the multimedia aspects bring it to the next level. 

i let you into the garden of my loneliness by @theesteemedladydebourgh​ – The prose is so beautiful and every emotion is so tangible in this one-shot, and it really does have my entire heart. It’s truly a masterpiece and well worth the read.

Thank you @ohmygodshesinsane​ for chatting about your fics with us! ❤️

[arcplaysgames]

OKAY I WENT BACK AND FIXED THE FLAG, lets roll

i'm gonna say it: futaba is the character that can go toe-to-toe with the casts of P3 and P4. she is so well written, so expansive, just the way she talks feels more alive, like allusions to her broader self. she's the one character who feels like she exists when she's not being observed on the screen.

she is Reverie's little sister and I love her to death.

Also when Reverie gives her a head pat (which is a thing I do to my mother to say hello) it's adorable, and it's clearly been so long since it's happened that it takes her off guard and she leaps away.

Baby steps, Futaba, you're getting there and I'm proud of you.

oh man i love how this game keeps making it agonizing as i turn people down!!!!

tho tbh none was worse than Ann, my god the Ann scene was so good I almost dated her just because the set-up.

but no, Futaba, i really thought about it, and you are a little sister.

(also, I am morbidly curious how the obligatory Christmas date goes without a romance. in P4G it was fucking delightful, but P5R has proven to be a fucking bastard if you don't romance someone. I wanna see if it can be worse than the Hawaii trip somehow.)

but jfc PERSONA! STOP THIS! LEMME SAY SOMETHING MORE PROFOUND! Lemme say "You're like a sibling to me" or "You're the best friend I could have hoped for," SOMETHING not just "Because we are teammates," it's so fucking cold!!!!!

yells

SEE

THAT'S MORE LIKE IT

I love that they have an in-joke. Futaba is absolutely Reverie's key item too.

okay so that's Hermit nearly a wrap, rank 9.

Time for the latest Beige News.

Akechi wants to go have a private conversation. Super private. No, even more private than that. He wants to have a chat in Mementos.

Morgana, I cannot BELIEVE you just let Reverie GO OFF TO MEMENTOS WITH AKECHI, who the fuck is gonna be around to drag Reverie's body back to the real world after? Someone needs to run up to Sojiro and meow like Lassie, okay.

But no, Morgana presumably is nervous about being an unwilling spectator to some hot makeouts so he's outie.

Points to Akechi's VA because my god it sounds like Akechi is actually having an emotion for the first time in the game.

For the curious, his emotion is Barely Restrained Murder Boner.

Unfortunately for you, bro, I just bribed Notigor with 60k yen to give me King Frost with Null Bless, so you are royally fucked. (Ba dum tish.)

This is so fucking horny I just stopped and laughed to myself for a while.

i'm fukcing cackling at this shit

Akechi would be like 50% more stable as a person if he just read Homestuck, honestly. The feeling that is burning in your chest/pants right now is called kismesissitude and it's totally fine, man. You are be max dramatic about your blackrom feels when you and Reverie could just be making out and leaving bruises on each other for fun.

But lets be real, if Akechi read Homestuck he'd unironically think Vriska did nothing wrong and then we'd have to kill him.

HE FUCKING THROWS HIS GLOVE AT REVERIE

He could be taking off a lot more than that if he stopped being weird about this blackrom thing but WHATEVER MAN, Y'ALL CAN HAVE HATE MAKEOUTS LATER I GUESS.

Pompous little windbag. I want to beat you up and make you wear something that isn't monochromatic to a hospital wall.

[talentdelunecomic]

Arc 2.5

(Part 2) (foreword)

That night is the anniversary party. Jupiter, Eight, and Aidyn are busy with all the usual hosting business, so Fae stands in the corner and tries to be unnoticeable enough to keep anyone from coaxing them out with cake. Talent de Dal’s members interplay and bounce off each other like beams of light, like projections, unreal and happy. Fae finds themself reconsidering their previous line of thought—the effects of their time at TDD cannot be solely negative, not with their fellow ex-gladiators  smiling so contentedly and engaging with each other with such ease. Maybe Fae leaps too quickly to the worst possible conclusions. Or maybe cynicism should be their burden and theirs alone.

Maybe Jupiter wanted to clear the air before confessing her feelings. Or maybe it really is too early to look for romance.

…Maybe they should talk to their sister.

Later, once everyone has thoroughly enjoyed the cake and gone to bed, Tasha finds Fae in the greenhouse.

“Hey, so…” Tasha runs a nervous hand through her glowing hair. “Are you okay? You were, like, really quiet at the party tonight.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

Tasha flinches at their tone and Fae tries to gentle it, as impossible as that feels, currently. “I know it’s uncomfortable for you to talk to me,” they say. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, and you shouldn’t feel guilty when you walk away.”

Tasha’s mouth twitches; she stares at the ground and takes a deep breath. Fae turns back to the plants and waits for her to leave.

Fae whips around, stunned at her sudden grit.

“You’re totally putting words in my mouth. Can you let me speak before assuming I’m uncomfortable and forcing myself to be here? I mean, like, now I’m uncomfortable, but that’s just ‘cause you’re being kind of rude.”

Fae blushes. Oh. That’s exactly what they were doing. How embarrassing. They duck their head and choke out, “I’m sorry.”

Tasha sighs. “And you don’t have to say sorry like I’m gonna smack you. Jeez, you always act like I’m the one scared of you, but I think it’s really the other way around.”

Still a bit flustered, Fae glances up at her. “You…aren’t afraid of me?”

“No. Why would I be?”

“Because…” they stutter out. “Because I… I hurt you. I was cold. I acted like I was b-better than you. I acted— I acted like you deserved to be in pain for trying to run away.”

Tasha cocks her head to one side. “Um, Fae…” she says softly, a wrinkle of concern in her brow. “I never really thought of it that way.”

Huh?

Fae is lost. Is there…any other way to think of it??

“You were in a bad situation and you tried to, like, teach me how you survived it,” Tasha says. “So when I didn’t want to do that, you lashed out.”

“But…no, I…” That can’t be right. Fae has to take responsibility for their actions, don’t they? Isn’t that the problem?

Tasha shrugs and combs through her hair again. “Sure, I got hurt, but I don’t think it was anyone’s fault? I mean, obviously it was Heele’s fault, and everyone who went to those horrible matches, but not you, and not me.” She looks Fae in the eyes. “You get that…right?”

Fae wraps their arms around themself. …It’s almost unthinkable. They sigh shakily, “Tai, I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

Tasha’s expression flickers into utter confusion. “Uh…” She laughs incredulously. “Who’s Tai?”

“I…” Fae whispers. “She’s…my little sister.”

Tasha blinks cluelessly. “Oh! I didn’t know you had a sibling. I guess our names are similar, huh?” She giggles. “Are our personalities similar? You know I’m older than you, right?”

Despite everything, Fae laughs.

…It’s a relief.

“Yeah, I guess you are,” they chuckle.

---

The next morning, before lunch, everyone gathers to see their friends off. Aulani, Matt, Zacharie, and Tasha have packed their things, and they talk excitedly—well, maybe not so excited in Zacharie’s case—about the next steps they’ll be embarking on. Spider and Fae and the rest of the ex-gladiators are there to say goodbye. Jupiter, Eight, and Aidyn are there to remind them that they’ll always have TDD’s full support. Rivergirl is just there for the transportation soul-stream. A lot of hugs are exchanged.

Then, the time comes, and Rivergirl gathers Aulani, Matt, Zacharie, and Tasha up in her arms. “Alright, my dudes,” she says, swaying them back and forth. “You’re about to experience the most radical ride of your lives. Can you dig it?”

“Sorry?” Aulani asks.

“She’s asking if we’re good to go,” Zacharie sighs.

“Can! You! Dig it?!” Rivergirl whoops.

“Yes we can!” Tasha cheers.

She’s insane, Zacharie mouths to Aulani.

As expected, their departure is bittersweet. Fae is surprised to find he’s a little sad to see his ex-cellmates go. It’s true, they were never all that close, but they lived through the same horrors together. That has to count for something.

And so, as awkward as it feels, Fae waves to his friends as they leave.

After a silent moment, the remnants of their group start to make their way back to the TDD base. Fae turns to follow them, but he doesn’t make it more than a couple steps. Aidyn calls out to him.

---

They sit in the shade of the treeline, enjoying the early fall breeze. Aidyn told Jupiter and Eight to return to the base, that he and Fae would hang back to wait for Rivergirl’s return. It’s a pleasant morning, but the air tastes like anticipation.

Fae gathers up their courage. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Right!” Aidyn scratches at the back of his head, bashfully. “So…I heard that yesterday, Jupi brought up your sister. Are you doing okay?”

Fae’s stomach sours a bit at the reminder, but they don’t feel nearly so low, this time. “I’m fine,” they answer honestly, shrugging.

“But not great?”

Fae frowns, but relents. “…No, not great.”

“You know…” Aidyn shifts in place. “You don’t have to talk to her if your relationship is strained. Or maybe you just don’t want to. There are a lot of us who’ve cut contact with our families, more than you’d think. No one would judge you.”

“Is that the case for you?” Fae asks, genuinely curious. “What about Jupiter and Eight?”

Aidyn barks out a wry laugh. “They cut contact with me!”

Misstep. This is a sore topic. “You don’t have to—”

“No, no, you’re all good.” Aidyn softens instantly. “I’m… It’s easy to joke and avoid things when they make you uncomfortable. Sometimes you just think about it all so much that you need a break. But, well…” He laughs again, self-deprecating. “I guess, for someone who calls their Talent ‘Converse’, I’m not all that great at communicating.”

“I think you’re pretty great,” Fae says quietly.

The vitiligo turns Aidyn’s blush multi-colored, and it is unfairly distracting.

“…Well, Jupi doesn’t talk to her family either.” Aidyn recenters himself. “And I think Eight is still in touch with theirs, but I’m not sure. We don’t really mention this stuff when we’re around each other.”

“Maybe you should,” Fae says tentatively. Aidyn’s eyes drop to the ground; he seems doubtful.

They press on. “My sister’s name is Taisha. I’ve always called her Tai.”

Aidyn stares at them.

“She’s three years younger than me. Fifteen, right now, but she’ll be sixteen soon. I should wish her a happy birthday, because she was always so excited for this one. In movies, every girl wants a big ‘Sweet Sixteen’.”

“Yeah,” Aidyn says, like he’s nearly too focused on them to speak.

“My dad was self-absorbed and cold, so I had to raise myself and Tai. Mom died when we were young, and I’m fairly sure he didn’t like thinking about her. Tai took after her, so he generally ignored her. But I took after my dad, so we argued. We argued a lot.”

Under Aidyn’s unwavering attention, it feels like it’s okay to continue.

“Even though we fought, I think that deep down, my dad almost respected me. He felt like he was raising me right because I was stubborn and I had a temper. Like he was raising me into…” Their stomach twists. “A man. Just like himself.”

Aidyn reaches out, and Fae holds his hand. It’s nice.

“So that’s why our first big blow-up fight came around when he learned that Tai would let me try on her dresses.”

“That sucks,” Aidyn whispers. It’s ineloquent, but that’s part of the reason Fae likes him. Sometimes, the most straightforward words are the ones you need to hear.

“I was so mad,” Fae admits, “I just wanted to break something. And then, I— My Talent—”

“That’s when you got it?” Aidyn asks, eyes wide.

Fae nods, trying to ignore how red-hot their face feels. “I took down our entire house. Completely leveled. I dragged Tai outside, but our dad was left behind. I don’t know if he even made the connection; it’s possible he just thought there was an earthquake. But he was still inside when everything came down, and for a second, I wasn’t even upset. ‘Serves you right,’ I thought.”

They exhale shakily. “But Tai cried. And she went back to try and move the rubble, even though dad had never done anything kind for her in his entire life. And then…I got mad at her as well.”

“People started coming by. I realized what I was doing and I knew I had to leave. I…didn’t want to break my little sister.”

It surprises Fae, how quickly tears spring to their eyes in that moment. Usually, their emotions build and build and they teeter on the verge of crying for a long time. This feels less painful. More like letting go of the pain you never realized you were clutching so tightly. Like crying at a poignant movie scene. It’s not so bad.

They wipe their eyes without letting go of Aidyn’s hand. “I was on my own until Heele found me. You know the rest from there.”

“Hey,” Aidyn squeezes their hand. “Fae? I don’t think you’re self-absorbed. Or cold. And you might have a temper, but you’re working on it. I think you’re a really good person.”

Fae holds their breath against the instinct to deny him. “I’m trying to be a better me,” they allow. “A kinder me. A healthier me. A happier me. More like myself. So…I’m glad you think I’m succeeding.” They fail to hold back a smile. “Thanks.”

Aidyn smiles back at them, so warmly the whole world feels softer. “I should be thanking you. Maybe…we could all stand to open up more, like you said. Your advice is always the best. You’re so reliable, Fae.”

The words are familiar. Fae flusters.

“And speaking of opening up…” Aidyn’s smile turns nervous, and his face grows redder and redder. “There’s something Jupiter and Eight and I have been trying to ask you. It’s just— The timing has never been—”

“I’m listening now,” Fae says, and the butterflies in their stomach are climbing up their chest. “Try me.”

Aidyn sits up straight, takes in a deep breath. His cheeks are the same color as his hair, but he looks like he’s placed a bet and he’s liking his odds. “Fae. All three of us care about you…a lot. Would you be willing… Have you ever heard of—?”

…Of course. The timing is never right. And yet, Fae feels so light and happy that they can’t help laughing. The glow in Aidyn’s eyes, the way he’s looking at them, it feels like a winning bet. An affirmative 8-Ball answer. A homemade cake.

Fae is still growing, and it might be too early, but…

They think they’ll talk to their sister.

[imjustabeanie]

Hello hello it's me for the matchup trade 🌹Thank you for messaging me and please take all the time you need.

Female, she/her, INFJ, Gemini. Personality wise, I got two sides (stereotypical ik).

Most of the times, I'm really affectionate, warm, calm but I can also get really serious and slightly intimidating in a blink of an eye if it's needed, thing that surprises some. I'm basically that meme: I can be your angel or your devil (lol). Resting bitch face until you talk to me and I'm smiling at you. Extremely ambitious when I want something. Really protective and caring to my dear ones (I'd do anything for them). Unfortunately, I tend to overwork myself and won't say a word to others about it even though I know it's not good. I just don't want to bother anyone so I keep going. We all have problems in our lives, why should I add mine to anyone else's? However, I crave a break from it all so bad, from time to time...

I work in the medical field and love it, it was my dream and still is. I always make sure to put patients at ease and help them get through their condition mentally first. I'm interested in how people feel and think. I want to specialize myself in neuropshychology or medical recovery.

I'm the mom friend of the group, always the mature and responsible one.

Aesthetically wise I go for slight dark feminine and romantic. Colour palette: red, black, white, silver. I'm all about casual dresses, skirts, white shirts.

Appearance: Curvy, copper brown hair now, hazel eyes, a lot of beauty spots and subtle freckles on my face. I also have a tattoo (hint: it's a crescent moon on my thigh lol)

When I'm not studying, my hobbies are: Aikido and bokken training, dancing, oh and I also have a big thing for learning about perfumes, wine, and tea.

Likes: flowers, deep conversations, classic literature, meditation.

Deal breakers: cheating, indifference.

I'm attracted to both wild individuals and calm and serious ones. No in-between.

What I'm like as a lover: Soft (almost fragile) but really playful, teasing even. That's when I shed all the layers. My love language is physical touch and gift giving. I really like to help my partner relax and break free from all daily restraints.

Hope this is alright for you and not too long or confusing. Thank you so much for your time. Take care, dear, have a wonderful day!

Helloooo! Here's your match hehe

For JJK it's....Yuuta!

Okay so your jjk match is Yuuta. The reason I gave him to you is because he is also mature, caring and responsible plus he’s a romantic. Yuuta is understanding and sees beyond what you appear like (ngl you remind me of maki based on your description). So once he gets to know you more, I am sure there’s a blossoming romance coming (be careful of rika. She is y all number 1 problem lol). Your aesthetic also compliments his very well and he lets you know!

At first Yuuta will be too intimidated to speak to you since you have an rbf. But when you two got paired up for a mission and he saw you being all smiles and joking with him he let his guard down and started talking to you more. He notices his feelings when he found himself thinking more about you and being all red when you patch him up after a mission. Also you two work very well together because you know when to get serious.

Yuuta is very shy when you get all affectionate, if you’re in public he will take some time to respond lol. Bur it’s only a question of habit, he will even start initiating himself with time! He loves and craves your warmth, especially after a long mission where he only wants to find you and enjoy your presence. He is rather nervous but your calm personality helps him get grounded, you’re his reference if we can say that. That’s why he also got into meditation with you, it’s just so soothing! Now, both of you overwork yourselves and are hypocrites about it. What I mean is that you both scold the other for overworking themselves lol. That’s why you came to an understanding that you both have the right to just…get the other away from their work if it gets too much as well as a mandatory 2 hours together each night.

Now I think that Yuuta will notice how you don’t share your problems but he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He will probably ask Maki and gojo for advices (wrong people. Yuuta you should know better..) And in the end it’s Toge who gives him good advices to give you space at first and then confront you about it. He’s a little hurt that you won’t confide in him because to him, your problems are his problems. What kind of lover is he if he just abandoned you to your demons? Yuuta is very determined about this too lol so try to rely on him more.

Concerning your aikido and bonkken training, he is your guy. He was formed by maki and gojo so yeah he’s good. He loves sparing with you because you both learn from each other. I think he sucks at dancing and he’s too shy so good luck making him participate lmao. I headcannon that he is a bookworm and probably has some knowledge on teas, it’s not uncommon for you two to surprise the other with a new tea flavor (he will even do the 4 hours tea ceremony for you and with you). He also reads all your recommendations and brings you gifts (often books) each time he is in a solo mission or makes you worry. He doesn’t spoil you with gifts and touch as much as you do but Yuuta is someone whose love language is words and acts of service. He always tries to make your life easier like you made his easier. The biggest issue is probably him accepting the fact that he loves someone else after the whole rika fiasco. He doesn’t want to endanger you!

Your runner up is nanami

For BNHA it's...aizawa!

Aizawa!

This one effing bothers me cuz you predicted it! Urgh….but at the same time he fits you so well! Aizawa is a no bs guy who despite his rude and lazy exterior cares a lot about his entourage so there’s a lot of common points here if you see.

You two definitely started as work besties and none can convince me otherwise. You’re his favorite medic as he always feels calm and soothed around you. Heck if you accepted he’d take a subscription cuz due to his quirk he does need regular consultations. At the start he’d be annoyed at how you respond to his indifferent behavior but then he understands that you’re just mirroring his bitchiness so he starts acting more friendly and all. I think he’d be the one to propose training with you when he can and that’s due to the rising villains in the bnha universe so he worries about you. He finds you to be a nice sparring partner.

Now, how Aizawa falls in love is a mystery but the person who pointed that out to him is definitely Mic (who may or may not have been the one to convince students to address you both as mum and dad for teasing). After you two got together, Aizawa definitely started showing more warmth and love in private. He doesn’t mind your physical touch but he probably initiates a lot of cuddling when you two are home resulting in you two being always late. He is also the type of partner who teases you at home and none can convince me otherwise but him and the author.

I also believe that Aizawa is the type of dude who are into meditation, yoga and all activities that help him be more at ease. He is so happy to do them with you! He also find your work ethic and ambitions so motivating that even his colleagues noticed changes in him since he got with you. He is…*gasp* livelier! Congrats on this new achievement. But your colleagues also noticed you being less of a work alcoholic because Aizawa is a calm voice of reason who can somehow always convince you to stop when you’re ruining yourself. I believe him to be quite emotionally intelligent and when he notices you having internal problems he doesn’t confront you directly. No he hints at it softly and then when you’re in private he asks you what’s wrong during your daily cuddling session. You’re not a bother to anyone and if someone says so then they’re not worth befriending. That’s his moto to you.

Aizawa loves your passion for perfumes, wines and teas. I can see him subscribing you both to a tea tasting thing each month and marking down your favorites. And he also loves bringing you two a rare bottle of wine each month to enjoy it. For perfumes, students noticed their sensei smelling differently ever since you two started dating…yeah he is spraying your perfume on his pillow to be with you when you’re away. He is also into classic literature when he has time but, due to his eyes he prefers to listen to audio books.

The biggest issues with aizawa is that he seems aloof and indifferent but he is not. You just have to get through that barrier.

I hope you like it!

[2-lines-and-a-circle]

Winter’s fate event Ruggie 1

Notes: Ruggie x fem reader, Romance, fluff, some suggestive language at the end, long post

You and Ruggie had only been dating for a short while, but you had been so nervous to do anything physical you freaked yourself out. All of your friends back home were already past the point of you and Ruggie, while they told you not to worry you did so anyway. Taking matters into your own hands you planned to at least kiss Ruggie on your next date.

Day of the date

You: Ruggie! *waves over to him* Did you wait a long time? Ruggie: Nah~ I got here right before you. So, what do you have planned for today? You: We’re going here! *points to the picture on your phone* Ruggie: Um… I don’t think that’s a place we should go together yet. You: Why? *looks at your phone* Oh, no that’s the wrong one *moves to the actual picture* stupid screen, we’re doing laser tag!

Arriving at the place you braced yourself for what was to come. You pictured a romantic setting with Ruggie battling beside you. So, if that was the plan why is it that you ended up meeting Silver and Sebek. Plus, Silver was on your team instead of it being Ruggie.

Flashback

Sebek: Are you two planning on entering the tournament as well? You: Yeah, we’re planning to enter as a pair to win the tournament. Ruggie: Silver, I didn’t know you were into these things. Silver: Lilila won tickets to this and gave them to me to use with Sebek as a gift. Worker 1: Alright so the boy with the silver hair and the lady are together and the beastmen and the green hair boy are another pair. You: Wait, I thought I signed up with Ruggie *points to him* did something go wrong. Worker 1: Sorry, I thought you and the silver boy were together since you two were standing together. Let me try to change that… *struggles with computer* sorry you’re stuck. Worker 2: Alright! Tournament starts 3… 2… 1… GO

Without any time to change partners you got stuck with Silver as a teammate. This was going to be quite the fight.

End of flashback

You: Silver behind you! *shoots at incoming person* Silver: Thanks _____ *shoots another* You: I’m going to win this and that kiss from Ruggie! *burns with passion* Silver: Huh? I didn’t know that was the prize… You: Oh, it’s not *ducks down* it’s like a personal prize since we… haven’t done it all. I told myself I was going to do it today no matter what! Silver: I see *turns to face you with a serious look* I will help you achieve this no matter what ___. You: Silver!

Meanwhile Ruggie and Sebek

Ruggie: Oi! Behind you *shoots someone* Sebek: For YOUNG MASTER! *shoots people like crazy* Ruggie: Wait, what does Malleus have to do with this? Sebek: Young Master would be amazed by my skills if I won! I have to WIN!!

Shortly there were only three teams left standing. Coming face to face with one of them was none other than Trey and Riddle.

You: Dorm Leader! Why are you here!!!!!!! Riddle: To end this, after it’s your turn to sing to the hedgehogs and you’re late. I could overlook this if it was the first time, but it’s the third mistake. Shouldn’t I take measures~ *Shoves the laser gun in your face* Silver: *runs in front of you* ____ Run! You: Silver~ *runs away* Trey: Don’t you think this is a little much? Riddle: No! I have to get her back to her job!

Meanwhile Ruggie and Sebek

Ruggie: Can I have some of that too? Sebek: Since you bravely saved me from those two, yes. Ruggie: Shishishi~ I wonder how she’s doing~

You were running for your life while dodging the angry lasers coming your way. Just when you thought you were safe you came face to face with the other remaining team.

You: Jade! Rook! Kill me now!!!!!!! Jade: Oya, oya~ Don’t think you can run from your club president. You even skipped out on duties today. You: Because I planned this date! You even said it was okay! Jade: Yes, which is why I’m going to end you right now *points gun at you* You: You wish! Summoning the power of Floyd! *pulls out secret video of Floyd singing mickey mouse march* Jade: When did you take this? *beep beep beep* I’m out… well played _____ Rook: Jade, Oh no! You’re out like me! Jade: Who took you out *looks around* Trey… Riddle Riddle: This ends now ______, don’t even think about your little tricks. You: Riddle, are you sure. If you point that gun at me I can’t guarantee I won’t show everyone that video. Riddle: What video? You: Oh you know that one where you, should I continue? Riddle: I don- *beep beep beep* You: I won!!!!!!!!!! Silver: Congratulations ____! Riddle: But how?

Flashback

Silver: Huh? I thought you shot it. Trey: Riddle’s aim has been off the whole time. Silver: *uses this as a chance to hit Trey* I see, Riddle, would you like some pointers? Riddle: I don’t need that *tries to shoot Silver, but fails* Well, maybe just this once!

End of flashback

You: So, you never were shot and lived the whole time! Silver: Yes, we have won the game.

Going back to the main lobby where your lover waited, you were also shocked to find the real prize.

You: Ruggie! I won! Ruggie: Congratulations, but what are you all doing here? You: They’re just here for fun, that’s right my prize. *hand him the item* Tada! Turns out we get a free dinner at the Mostro Lounge! Ruggie: All that for this! You: I was pretty shocked to know it was set up by him too. Um, is it alright if I ask for something from you as my prize too? Ruggie: If it’s food or money I can’t promise anything. You: Can I have a kiss? *looks at him boldly*

You heard Ruggie’s clothes rustle as he got up to face you. Pulling your head to face his, Ruggie placed a kiss in the middle of your forehead. Then moving from there he placed one on the top of your head. You: That’s all? No lips? Ruggie: No lips, I don’t think I can stop myself if I were to kiss your lips. We would have to go all the way then.

I’m also doing matchups you can find that here: 2 Lines & A Circle : Flavor of Love, Find Your Match~ (tumblr.com)