#and even then it's only one person who really seems to understand the depth of what you mean by those threats?

[betweenlands]

legundo's been going back and forth around his villagers for about half an hour now by viking's best estimate. sometimes he talks to himself, but it's all idle chatter that viking really has no interest in, so in effect viking is getting nothing by just sort of waiting around -- and he's not even phased into the wall, he's just standing on top of something and legundo straight up hasn't looked at him yet.

which just won't do, so, viking waits until legundo's right under his perch, at arm's length, to make his next move.

"bell noises."

legundo scrambles back several paces, not only nearly dropping the pickaxe in his hand but also knocking a villager in a minecart down a railtrack. "viking, you can't just -- how long have you been here, nearly gave me a heart attack,"

"eh," viking says, shrugging, "five, ten, fifteen minutes maybe? you just didn't see me."

"you were in the wall," legundo protests, "what, do you expect me to just assume you're always watching me?"

viking's snicker is less of an unhinged giggle and more of a soft, low noise. "eheh. wasn't even hiding, legs. i was out in plain sight. you just didn't see me."

legundo stops with his hand on an empty minecart, and his involuntary shaking slows just a bit, which viking is pretty used to in terms of body language by now, because it means-- "viking, you're doing the voice again."

which isn't quite true and they both know it -- there's been no mania, no fervent and desperate energy behind the low tone. but viking will take partial recognition, honestly. at least legundo's picking up on things, unlike -- no, wouldn't do to think about that, stay focused. "which i shouldn't do," viking says, slowly, "because it scares you?"

"okay," legundo says, "okay no this is actually new and worse to be honest. how did you get worse. i don't like that."

viking snickers again. there's no joy in it. "i don't either."

legundo stares at him. just. stares at him. viking sits down on the wall, leans his head against one hand, and stares back. legundo backs away slowly, like he's worried viking is going to lunge.

"i'm not gonna hurt ya, buddy," viking says. "wouldn't do that to a friend. friends don't hurt friends, right legs?"

"i cannot express enough how uncomfortable this is making me," legundo responds, fiddling with his crossbow.

viking snorts. "shoot at me and i phase through the wall and you accomplish absolutely nothing."

legundo's fingers slip on the crossbow bolt he's loading, fumble and cause the bow to fire early and snap the arrow in half uselessly. he curses softly and closes his hand around the broken arrow.

"i just want to talk," viking continues. "that's all."

"right," legundo says, and his voice has reached that exact pitch between annoyance and fear that tells viking he needs to make a point quickly, "so, out with it, what horrible scheme are you going to try and rope me into this time?"

viking rolls his eyes, waves one hand, head still propped up on his other hand. "no scheme, just wanna know something."

"which is?"

viking hops off the wall onto the ground, pushing off the side with both hands to land a respectable but short distance between himself and legundo (who, predictably, backpedals, but not enough to get away entirely). "you. you're scared of me, legs. why are you scared of me?"

legundo does that nervous, panicked laugh that viking has always understood to mean he needs to close distance or legundo will bolt. "viking," he says, "seriously, what's going on?"

viking takes a step forward. "answer my question first."

"no, seriously-"

"answer the question, legundo."

"i don't know," legundo says, almost squeaks, "you're just creepy!"

"mhm," viking says, and now he is right up in legundo's face and there is just a little tiny bit of manic light back in his eyes. "so! how do i get worse?"

"worse!?" legundo looks a little like one of those toys where you squeeze them and their eyes bulge out right about now. it's not exactly the reaction viking was hoping for, but it's within the expected range of reactions, he'll take it.

"yeah," viking says, "worse. 'cause you take me seriously when you're scared of me, gundo. but everyone else? nobody else takes me seriously at all. therefore: how do i get worse."

legundo raises a finger, one hand clutching his heart, and takes a shaky breath in. viking waits patiently for him to compose himself. "ohhhhkay. okay. listen, viking, you don't want to go where you're going right now."

"nope," viking says, popping the p just a little, enunciation extra strained, "but it's either this or start killing at this rate, and c'mon, we don't need a second shadowmech type situation around!"

"oh," legundo says, "oh you're serious serious. oh i don't like that at all."

he turns. viking's pickaxe is already in his hand and then stuck into the waystone before he can get that distance. "nope," viking says, voice still flat and dull, "no, you are not running away right now, we are going to talk."

"viking," legundo says. "viking. buddy? you need to calm down. you need to take several deep breaths and you need to calm down."

viking's laugh, unlike the glint in his eyes, can no longer be mistaken for mania. it's just pure desperation all the way down, nothing else to temper it. "already tried that!"

he stops. shakes his head like it'll help clear his thoughts, even though he already knows it won't work. forces his tone back to steady. "already tried that."

[mariasont]

Talking to a Brick Wall - A.H

a/n: rip erin strauss you would've hated this fic

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader

summary: in which you overhear your boyfriend aaron's phone call

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, self-doubt, happy ending but also a terrible ending bc i SUCK at endings xoxo

wc: 2.3k

You had called out your boyfriend's name multiple times as you wandered into his house. He had asked you a while ago if you wanted to come over for a movie night tonight and hell would have to freeze over before you ever declined that offer. However, upon arrival, you were greeted by silence; no response to the doorbell, his phone, or your voice. Thankfully, the key he'd given you last year jingled in your pocket as you let yourself in.

You had a pretty strong suspicion he'd be in his office--after all, this was Aaron Hotchner, a man who definitely did not believe in leaving work at the office. 

And sure enough, his voice filtered through the slightly ajar door, the rich hue of his mahogany desk framing the gap. You were about to move towards the living room, assuming he was on a work call of some sorts, but his words stopped you dead in your tracks. 

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm speaking, but the understanding isn't there. You know what I mean? It's like the concepts just float in one ear and out the other."

You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together, as your hand found the wall, leaning towards the door. He couldn't have been talking about you, right?

"I try to share details, to get her involved, but it's met with this vacant nod. As if the depth of it all just doesn't register."

Oh. Her. You tried to fan away the wetness that threatened to fall down your cheeks, each rapid motion a desperate attempt to convince yourself you were imagining things. 

"And I'm patient, I really am. But when you're met with that blank look, it's... disheartening. You start to wonder if it's worth explaining at all. It's like talking to a wall."

Okay, that stung. It was like an immediate punch to the gut, your heart seeming to drop into the pit of your stomach. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to rationalize his words, but nothing was really making sense right now.

The internal battle was a cruel one: stay and endure the sharp sting of his words or leave and miss more of what he had to say. The latter won, pulling you away from the door. 

You knew you were never going to be the smartest person in the room, and in the past, it was a source of deep-seated insecurity, always a silent specter in the corners of your mind. But then you met Aaron. And he made everything just better. His own intelligence and impressive job never became a yardstick for your worth; he ensured you knew you were more than enough, just as you were.

He had always been the voice reminding you that you were smart in your own right, telling you that your worth transcended any numerical measure of intelligence like a stupid IQ score. But now you were questioning everything. 

Anger seemed like the appropriate response, right? But it was hard to be when his words carried a weight of truth to them. 

You did have a hard time keeping up when he talked about the complexities of his cases, sometimes feeling like an outsider looking in. But, even if you didn't understand, his passion for what he did was infectious, and you hung on to every word when he explained all the ways his smart brain was able to deduce things about people. 

Still, a part of you imagined it was hard for him, that it probably got old fast when you weren't able to hold an intelligent conversation. 

Your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and it somehow took you only ten minutes to get home when it should've taken you twenty.

It was only when you had taken a shower, put on your favorite pair of pink sweats, brought out some Ben and Jerry's, and turned on Legally Blonde, did you check your phone.

Hi honey. What time are you coming over?

You tried to ignore the sensation of an invisible band drawing tighter across your chest. 

so sorry, not feeling good. rain check? xoxo

You hated lying to him. Hated lying in general, save for the occasional white lie to protect someone's feelings. The fact that you weren't lying to his face was a small mercy, because obviously he'd be able to see right through you.

Do you want me to come there? I can bring food.

You wanted to be with him, you really did, you had been counting down the days to this movie night all week. But the thought of sitting beside him, wanting to ask about his day, about his work, now seemed like an intrusion. Knowing that your well-intentioned questions might be a chore for him or a source of frustration. The realization pressed down on you, a heavy weight that threatened to snuff your light.

no that's okie! thank you though <3 i don't want to get you sick!

Your phone was ringing, his name lighting up the screen for a FaceTime call, it felt like a betrayal of your own making. It was a skill you had recently taught him (which took forever), and of course now he was using it. Your finger jabbed at the red button, your cheeks turning the same color. 

i look & sound disgustinggg rn

I know for a fact that's incorrect. You have a magical talent of looking incredible no matter what.

I want to see your pretty face.

you can be so flattering when u want to mister!

im going to take some medicine & then ill call u l8, k?

Hmm, okay.

love u! xoxo

I love you too, pretty girl.

You hated this. Your eyes were puffy, swollen and wet as you discarded the phone onto the nightstand. He deserved someone who wasn't so pathetic. 

You wallowed in self-pity all night, and then all day, and then all week. You went through the motions--getting up, going to work, and then making up some lame excuse when Aaron asked to see you. Name it, and you had probably said it. In reality, you had been holed up in your room, trading glossy magazine pages for confusing behavioral books.

The subject matter was as dull as dishwater, making paint-watching seem thrilling. But you were committed to bringing some depth to your next conversation with him.

Today's excuse had been some half-truths about being buried in work--which in hindsight seemed comical, given you worked at a bakery and there wasn't much that could take up your time outside of contract hours.

You were splayed across the couch in an upside-down sprawl as you attempted to focus on the scholarly gibberish that filled the pages. 'Homology,' 'dichotomy,' and 'typology' melded into a migraine-inducing blur, tempting you to slam the book shut. You were fighting every urge to throw it out the window and paint your nails with that new glittery polish you've been dying to try.

At the insistent knock, you clapped the book shut (thank god) and stood, brows knitting, as you navigated to the door with a soft scuffle of slippers on polished wood. 

Flinging it open, you halted, breath caught. "Aaron? Oh, hi, what are you doing here?"

The words sprang forth before you could catch them, your hands scrambling up to smooth the evidence of your couch-induced disarray. 

He fixes you a pointed stare as he steps into your apartment, invitation be damned you guess. "I find myself repeating this, yet it seems necessary--peephole first, then the door, sweetheart."

You clamp your teeth onto your lip with such force, you're convinced you've tasted blood. "Oh, right, sorry... I should've remembered."

A flicker of foolishness and a heavy dose of self-consciousness threaten to surface. However, you quickly subdue them, tucking them away as you wrapped your arms around your body, offering him a small smile. Despite everything, your heart leaps at the sight of him. You missed him.

His face softens, his touch soft as he tilts your chin upward. "Look at me. It's fine. I just want to make sure my best girl is safe, that's all."

The temptation to simply crumble there and then, to forget everything and cocoon yourself in his arms, was overwhelming. 

You leaned into his hand without thinking, which now claimed the entire area of your cheek. He was always so warm. 

You watch as Aaron glances around the room, no doubt noting the absence of work-related clutter. "Still working?"

"Oh, I was, I told my boss I'd help with inventory reports." That part wasn't totally a lie, but it still made your conscience squirm with guilt.

"Do you want help?"

The proposal touches a raw nerve, sparking a defensive reflex. Did he think you were incapable?

 "Thanks, but I'm actually all done with them," you lie, your a smile a little too rigid as you head into the living room.

You're keenly aware of his approaching footsteps as you hastily stash that stupid book under a magazine, silently praying he didn't notice. You settle onto the couch, and he joins you, casually drawing your legs over his lap as you recline against the cushions.

"How was your day?"

You wince internally at the automatic question. 

"Not too bad," He replies with an easy shrug, his fingers sneaking under your sweats at the ankles, tracing lazy circles on your calves. "We wrapped up some paperwork, had a couple of briefings, and oh, we were introduced to our new consultant today. She specializes in crypto linguistics--really fascinating stuff."

Your eyes flutter briefly, a constriction forming in your throat, a twist in your gut. The mere mention of the consultant being a she amplifies your feelings of insufficiency. It leaves you wondering, why would Aaron ever be interested in someone like you?

"Crypto linguistics?" you repeat, trying to sound curious rather than lost. 

He leans in closer to you. "It's a specialized area of linguistics focused on decoding encrypted languages."

You offer a nod, managing a convincing "Yeah, of course," even as your eyes unwittingly drift away from his unwavering stare, betraying a hint of your confusion.

Aaron's hand cradles your head, his fingers sifting through your hair. "Hey," he murmurs, drawing your attention back, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Your chin touches your chest as you mumble, barely audible, "hardly anything."

Aaron's expression turns to a frown, his broad hands guiding your ass and thighs as he positions you atop his lap, face-to-face, leaving you exposed with no place to hide. Your name escapes him with a sigh. "I don't believe that for a second."

You match his frown with your own pout, nestling your face into his neck, concealing the rosy hue that has claimed your cheeks. "Just a rough week is all."

"Is that so?" His voice was a gentle murmur, his hands soothingly moving in gentle sweeps across your back as you breathed out unsteadily. "Funny, that's been my week too. My gorgeous girlfriend seems to have been avoiding me all week."

"Have not," you mumble, your breath warm against his skin, fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He hummed. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong."

"It's silly."

He guided your face back to his, eyes searching yours. "Listen to me. No, it's not. I don't like when you try to diminish your feelings. Talk to me, honey."

That was your tipping point. A wobble in your lip betrays the onset of tears as your voice breaks.

"I just--I know I'm not as smart as the people you work with or even your past girlfriends. I know I don't get things right away especially when you talk about work, and I see how everyone else is so quick, and I'm here, always a few steps behind. I know that it must be frustrating for you, and I'm scared that one day, you'll get tired of explaining, and your patience will run out, and well, you'll see... you'll see that--"

"Baby, whoa, slow down," Aaron urges, his palms tenderly framing your face, a frown plastered over his face. Your heart hammers against your chest, its rapid beats almost audible, as if it might jump from your body. "Take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You draw in a breath.

His thumb delicately erases the tears that have made their way down your cheek.

"When there is something about my work you don't understand, I will gladly go over it as many times as you need. I don't expect you to know everything about that stuff, why would you? That's not why I'm with you. I'm with you because of your incredibly kind heart and the way you see the best in people. I love you because you are you. What is making you think this way, honey? It's breaking my heart."

"I overheard you Aaron," you said, "saying that sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall when you talk to me."

"What?" he questioned, but his confusion was quickly morphed into concern. "Oh, sweetheart, no. I was talking about Strauss and her lack of understanding of our fieldwork."

"Oh."

"I would never speak about you like that, you know that, right? And if, in some alternate universe, I did, you need to break up with me, or better yet, set me straight." His hands stayed firmly on your face. "You should never tolerate that from me or anyone else, understood?"

You bit down on your lip, hands resting on his shoulders as you nodded. "Yes, sir."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, sending fireworks to every inch of you as he mumbled against your mouth, "that's my girl."

taglist: @hotchhner

[laiostouden]

can't stop thinking about dungeon meshi btw. how it comes down to being able to appreciate the hard and painful times because of the moments of happiness you experienced along the way.

it's about falin being able to forgive and look beyond the harsh way things were done- be it their father announcing he will send her away from the village or laios leaving her behind- partly due to her personality, and how she used to prioritize her loved ones' needs and emotions over her own, but also because of the positive impact that road eventually had on her. she knows her family was trying to protect her but what truly made it impossible to regret the path she had to take were the precious memories she made later on- it was learning magic and seeing new places and becoming friends with marcille and of course she couldn't hate it all, she was happy. it's about laios feeling so utterly miserable because on his end, it seemed like nothing good or enjoyable happened to him after leaving home, aside from the letters written by falin. but how long can a child be satisfied with another's happiness which he never got to experience himself?

so it really is beautiful that the series started off with him realizing that this journey allowed him to finally feel that happiness he was yearning for-

-and ended with everyone else realizing it too. when you first read chapter 11 it's just a funny gag about people not understanding laios, but it genuinely was too early for them to share his sentiment. they needed to come to terms with it on their own, with chilchuck opening up to them and senshi resolving the hovering mystery of his past and izutsumi freeing herself and joining their party and marcille facing her greatest fear. the winged lion was taking advantage of the loneliness and anger and pain lingering in laios's heart, but even it couldn't deny this. how, despite everything, he couldn't be satiated and his own happiness couldn't be complete without his friends' happiness too. how it was always about everyone enjoying a meal together.

and then there's marcille, who refused to admit it until the very end. it's in the way she had such a hard time fully accepting eating monsters despite how tasty she found them, not just due to how weird they were but also because she tried rejecting and burying her own pleasure and joy during this entire journey. from the very beginning, she was only willing to endure the pain and suffering.

as if she couldn't accept feeling an ounce of comfort, satisfaction, let alone happiness while falin was suffering on her own. and it might've been laios's reaction as well if all of this had happend a decade ago- i mean, that's exactly what he did back then. blaming himself for leaving her behind, being tormented by her loneliness and absence while falin was actually slowly moving towards a brighter future. it was him that was stuck, not her. but he kept focusing on her pain to ignore how deep the hole in his own heart had become, consumed by guilt to ignore his own agony, or to make sense of it- because maybe he did deserve it after all he had done.

and for that reason marcille was so terrified of admitting there was warmth in what she considered the depths of hell. because it would mean accepting falin going ahead of her and leaving her behind, accepting the inevitable she was trying so hard to deny and the end of her dream.

but it was learning there's joy even in her worst nightmare that allowed her to finally embrace those moments of pleasure that made her life worth living, however short they were. she realized that her pursuit would take away the things that truly mattered to her, that if she had succumbed to her fear of loss she would've been the one hurting her loved ones, just as happened to thistle. laios asking her to use ancient magic for falin's resurrection and then encouraging her to not give up on her desires during the nightmare chapter was a direct parallel to delgal being the one to push thistle down the road of destruction, while both marcille and thistle were trying to protect the people most important to their friends.

but in marcille's case, laios was able to understand her at the end, pulling her back just before she descended to complete ruin. it's truly fascinating how the story is not only about laios being understood but also getting to understand others properly, deeply- it's about mutual understanding, the balance between two people he never managed to maintain before. and i think it's only after seeing thistle's tragedy that he was able to fully realize what might become of marcille down the line. so while delgal put the weight of the world on thistle's shoulders, laios was the one to tell marcille she doesn't have to do that. because even if falin's resurrection hadn't succeeded, they both already know- there's happiness even in the dungeon's pit. and it's by preparing a hearty meal made of her loved one's remains that marcille was able to truly accept it- thus allowing herself to enjoy it to the fullest, embracing the cycle of life, no matter how weird or painful or grotesque it is.

[hollandsfavbabe]

Wet & Wild II

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: SMUT, porn with a plot, sexually explicit language, cursing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, nipple play, locker room sex, swimmer lingo

word count: 5.5k

part 1

tags💜: @midnightwrriting @no1runawaymilkdad @ihave-aboringlife @blahhucantmakeme @laniirackssss @blood-bloss @lmaoyani @geminiflanagansblog @ruyaas-world @hrlzy @povobsessed @stephstephstephsteph @chakin @10ava01 @lem0ns77 @velvrei @hdhdhdndhdndk

masterlist

a/n: sorry if the tags aren’t working, I tried to include everyone that wanted it. lmk if you have questions on anything. hope you enjoy!!

A week has passed since the last time you’d seen Art and you try to rid any thoughts of him from your mind as you enter the women’s locker room, the day so early that the sun has only just risen. You’d only spent a few hours with him, but he feels more important to you than a mere acquaintance, especially considering you’d let him have more of you than most people would ever get to. You try to tell yourself it won’t matter if he shows or not, but deep down you know that it will. Regardless, overthinking won’t help you in the water so you shove it down as you steadily pull on your tech suit, careful not to rip the delicate fabric. Your headphones are currently blaring your hype playlist in your ear, but you slide them off once you notice movement to your left as Chloe opens her own locker.

“You ready?” she asks you, pulling out her own racing suit from the depths of her swim bag.

“Not really,” you admit, giving up on stretching your tight suit to your full body frame for the time being as you opt for a tie-back bikini top instead. Your shoulders are ever so grateful. “I’m so nervous.”

“Why? Because of your race or your little tennis boyfriend?” she teases, lips quirking into a classic Chloe smirk. As your best friend, she was the first and only person you told about your interaction with Art at the party and, of course, she had been teasing you about it since. While during practice it was amusing, you are not in the mood for jokes right before a race, especially one of such importance.

You furrow a brow, shaking your head to signal that it’s not the time for such jests concerning the blonde. As the good friend that she is, Chloe immediately understands as she moves to help tie your suit straps, a simple task that you are unexpectedly failing at due to the pressure of the meet ahead of you.

“You’re going to do great,” Chloe comforts, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder once she’s finished with your straps. “I’m sure of it.”

“What if I don’t break the record?”

“Who cares? You can try again next time. If that’s the worst that can happen, you don’t have anything to be nervous about,” she smiles in assurance. “Besides that record is as good as yours -” she makes a gesture to your tech suit that has the most magical of time bending abilities if wielded by the right swimmer. “You’ve worked so hard for this. Nothing can stop you now.”

“Thanks Clo.” you grin at her appreciatively, and though your nerves don’t settle in the slightest, you feel more comfortable living in cohabitation with them now. They’re so much easier to manage when you’re not alone.

It’s only minutes before the rest of your team has arrived and you have hours before your event is scheduled to take place, yet it only feels like seconds before you’re being seated in the waiting room amongst your competitors, tech suit finally fully on. Rousing music plays through your headphones though you are sure to skip any songs that seem even the slightest bit romantic. You try to slip into the right headspace, the line between confident and cocky that has always aided you in not panicking just before you step up to the blocks in the past. You try to find it, using any method at your fingertips, but it’s no use. You can’t seem to find it no matter how hard you try and suddenly it feels as if the weight of the world is crashing down on you when the door opens and your event is called. You stand with the other women and together you line up behind the blocks.

The sun shines much higher up in the sky than it had been when you dove in during warm ups, blaring down to reflect off the red of your cap that bears the Stanford logo in white along with your last name. You take your rightful place behind the starting block of the middle lane, and though you already wrote your heat and lane in black sharpie on your forearm just to be sure, you can’t help but worry that you’ve already missed your race.

It’s only when the head announcer calls your event on the loudspeaker that you stop dwelling on it, her voice echoing through the stands that seem so much taller now that you're in the center with so much pressure resting solely on you. You rake though the rafters to your left, hoping to be comforted by the sight of Chloe or one of your other teammates until you realize that they are more than likely preparing for their own events in the warm up pool.

It's then, just when the swirling hurricane of emotions is hurtling toward you, that you see him. He’s seated in the first row, blonde curls circling his head like a golden crown and a wide smile lighting up his face when he sees that you’ve finally spotted him, one that you can’t help returning as he mouths sweet wishes of luck to you.

Art came. He actually came!

The storm subsides and all of a sudden you’ve lost all your inhibitions. Instead of buzzing anxiety, you are filled with a new light and the confidence of a record breaker. It’s all so clear with Art in the stands and as his presence wafts away your storm of worries, you come to the realization that you can do it. You know you can.

The whistle of an official blares through the speaker and on cue you slide on your goggles and mount the block. You’re really starting to feel the compression of your suit as you bend into your diving position, waiting for the magic words. The signal that it’s time to race and leave everything you have in the pool as you go.

“Swimmers, take your marks…” 

You take one last breath before the sound blares and you dive off the block. It all comes naturally to you and with the help of your suit, you find yourself breaking out farther than ever before.

You only have a few strokes until you’re at the end of the pool when out of nowhere, the girl in the lane beside you starts to catch up to you until the two of you are neck and neck and it doesn’t escape your attention when she flips a split second before you’re able to.

You know it’s not about winning, you told Art that, but it’s as if a fire has been lit behind you and you’re suddenly determined to go for the gold. You push yourself harder than you ever have before and though you're not sure where the energy has come from, you know it’s exactly what you need. You’ve failed if you’re able to get out of the pool without stumbling.

Before long you catch up to the swimmer beside you, taking your first and only breath as you summon the last of your power, pushing through the water like a jet-ski. At once you’re behind the flags and unlike before, there’s no one beating you to the touch pad resting on the side of the ending wall as you slam your hand down and come up for air.

The crowd erupts with applause once you finish and at first you’re under the impression that it’s because of your win until your eyes glaze over at the scoreboard and nearly burst from your skull at the sight of the result.

You had accomplished your goal. There it was, a time faster than the Stanford record glowing right beside your name. But you didn’t just pass it by a few flimsy hundredths. Your new record was more than a second faster.

You can hardly believe it and you know if the proof weren’t right in front of you, there’d only be disbelief instead of this crashing wave of accomplishment and pride. Though you’re in severe oxygen debt from the race, you find yourself screaming in excitement at your gigantic accomplishment.

“We have a new record!” an official announces through the loudspeaker once the other girls have returned to the starting wall, followed by your name and new time. You search for Art again once you’re out of the water, all but failing to suppress your grin as you find him clapping in the stands and smiling down at you as if you were the most precious stone in the world.

Your teammates are filled with the same immense pride when you join them in the locker room once the meet is over. You’ve since changed from your tech suit, switching out the tight fabric for your cozy hoodie, tie-back bikini top, and a towel tied around your waist. The suit in question now hangs in your locker with the rest of your clothes that you had been in the middle of putting on before the congradulations began.

“I fucking told you!” Chloe shouts, clapping you on the back like you had just won the lottery. You imagine such a feat couldn’t match the pride you feel now.

You almost say that you can’t believe it, but the words stall on your lips. You actually can believe it, this is something you’ve been working tirelessly for. And now, after a long hard race, the record title is finally yours.

“Did I see a certain blonde in the audience?” Chloe smirks, nudging you as you wave goodbye to one of your other parting teammates.

“Maybe,” you drawl, trying your best to hide your growing grin, but the thought of the man makes you feel like flying through the air as year worth of buried emotions bubble up to the surface. You haven’t felt anything like this for a very long time.

“You know what that means…” Chloe whispers to you after you pull away from a hug with one of the other girls who like everyone else, is on her way out. The night’s party is being hosted at a house that’s a longer commute than usual in honor of the women’s tenth annual win and unlike your teammates, you aren’t in any hurry to get there knowing the a portion of the celebration will surround you.

“Drinks on you?” you guess, pretending you are clueless as to what she’s getting at. You hope it’s enough to deter her from whatever inevitably grotesque she’s about to say, but you know it’s to no avail as she laughs and shakes her head.

“Nice try,” she smiles, nudging you with her elbow. “I meant that he’s definetly going to fuck the shit out of you next time you see him.”

You cringe bashfully at her words, hitting her on the shoulder as she backs away from your shrunken form.

“Chloe!” you chide, though you both know no real anger lies within your tone. She’s been like this since the day you’d first met her: always the same old loving, indecorous Chloe.

“Just saying.” she shrugs before turning to say her goodbyes to the last lingering one of your other teammates.

You turn to open your locker, finally ready to change out of your damp towel until you’re startled by the clacking footsteps of unfamiliar tennis shoes heading in your direction. You assume it’s another random spectator who had bypassed the many signs clearly stating that the locker room is for athlete occupance only, but at once you find you’re very wrong when you turn to see who it is.

Art stands before you and though it was his decision to invade the women’s locker room, he looks as surprised as you.

“Hey,” he says, almost breathlessly. You’re thankful when you notice that Chloe is fully dressed to your left, just pulling on her knit cardigan.

She smirks smuggly at the sight of him, swinging her bag over her shoulders before sending you a wink and a swiftly muttered, “Told ya.” Without another word she exits, leaving you and Art utterly and completely alone.

“You realize this is the women’s restroom, right?” you jab as you hear Chloe shut the door behind her, though it’s all in good fun. As far as you know, no one is coming anywhere near the locker room for the next several hours.

“I was waiting outside for you,” he states, gradually lifting his hands from their tense place in the front of his jean pockets. “I thought everyone else had already come out, but I guess I was wrong.”

“That’s just Chloe,” you laugh, gesturing in the direction of the exit path your best friend had just taken. “Don’t worry, she won’t tattle.”

He chuckles, amused by your jest before he takes a slow step closer to you. Like a sparkler to your stomach, you become acutely aware of the tension between the two of you, growing like the blush colored blossoms of a cherry tree in spring. “I’ve thought about what you said.”

This makes you smile.

“And?”

“You were right.”

You’re heart flutters, so light that if it weren’t encaged within your chest you’re sure it would’ve floated away. He pauses to take another tense step in your direction, now only a foot away.

“Do you know how Tashi and I met?”

“I don’t, actually,” you say, words laced with a twinge of sarcasm.

“Right,” he laughs, realizing the folly behind his question. It was more rhetorical than anything, but he begins the story like a spider spindiling its web. “Well it was only about a year ago. We met at the US open. Patrick and I both went after her and you know what she told us?”

You wait for the answer.

“She said she’d give her number to whoever won our match. That was the first time I ever lost and it was to my best friend.”

“That’s who was at your match, wasn’t it?” you ask.

Art nods solumnly, though the pain that had been etched on his face from your last meeting has vanished, as if the thorn in his side has been replced by a budding rose.

“I didn’t know Art, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he urges. “It’s all okay now. I’ve realized that none of it matters anymore and it’s all because of you. If I’m being honest, I thought maybe if I won my match, then Tashi would leave him. But it’s not what I want anymore. I don’t want to be the winner she’s running to. I don’t want to have to earn her love.”

“What do you want?”

There’s a pause, a distinct moment where the glint in his blue eyes from the bright lights above conveys a clever message to you than any words could. Then he speaks.

“I think you know what I want.”

It’s all the confirmation you need to know that he’s finally playing the same game as you. He’s unbearably close now as his head reaches up to gently rake through your stringy wet hair. You welcome his touch, breath catching in your throat at the feeling of his fingers as his lips hover just above yours. If you’re being completely honest, you haven’t stopped fantasizing about it since the night of the party. Since the moment he had kissed you.

“You were right,” he whispers as his hot breath tickles the tips of your top lips with every placid word. “I don’t care about winning anymore. The only point I want to score is you.”

“That’s a really bad joke.” you remark, pointing out the obvious from his corny declaration. But Art doesn’t share your smirk, his face settling in an expression that’s much more sensual.

“I’m not kidding.”

You feel the immediate shift in energy as your smirk fades to parted lips and Art’s longing gaze moves downward from your eyes. What little space left between you is squashed as you allow him to pull you even closer, noses prodigy one another as Art’s fingers drift from the tips of your hair to cup the back of your head. It’s almost salivating the way he looks at you and you’re suddenly eager to remember what he tastes like.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks through a whisper, so quietly that if you hadn’t been right in front of him, you surely wouldn’t have heard it. It’s milliseconds before you’re nodding exuberantly with more urgency than a speeding ambulance (something you might need if your heart decided to beat any faster).

“Pleas-” you start, but Art’s on you before you can even get the word out, covering your lips with his until all you can taste, smell, and feel is him. Everything is him.

He’s gentle with you at first, testing the waters as his lips pass smoothly over yours. You lift up your hands to invite him in, squeezing the toned flesh of his arms before you drag them slowly up to the nape of his neck. You toy with some of the curls that rest there, twirling them between your fingers while sinking into the sounds he makes in return. He lets out a soft moan into your mouth, and at once his tongue melds with yours. You match the new intensity, swallowing each low groan.

Unlike your last encounter, it’s Art who pulls away this time, forcing you to scowl at him in confusion, eyes squinting and lips puffy. He twists his head to the left, glazing at the wide space behind him as he slowly moves the both of you backwards to the nearest flat-board bench until one of its edges grazes the top of his shin.

“What are you doing?” you ask through a whisper, leaning forward so that your lips titillate the tip of his ear which sends inadvertent shivers through his whole body. Art turns back to you, smirking as he leans in for another sloppy kiss, earning a salacious sound from you before his lips shift from yours and trailing from the corner of your mouth to the line of your open jaw where his teeth scrape against your skin. You can feel him grinning as he makes you emit the softest of moans.

“I want to make up for the other night. I said some things - I’m not proud of.”

You give a giddy chuckle as you cup his cheek, amused by the fact that he thinks his past behavior was inexcusable until Art’s head dips to suck on the tender skin of your neck and you can’t help but whine. You’re glad you have the lung capacity of a swimmer otherwise you might’ve fainted from the near constant lack of oxygen.

“Art, honestly-” a sudden gasp is ripped from you as you feel him nipping at your sweet spot, crumbling like a tin can under pressure. “-it’s fine.” you barely manage to finish your sentence.

He places a few more steady kisses to the column of your neck, working his way down to your clavicle. You tip your head back, an unintentional effect from the sensation of his lips as he lays the last just near the edge of your collarbone before raising his head to look at you and it’s almost as if he can see right through you.

“Does that mean you don’t want what I’m offering?” he questions, glancing down at the steady movement of your chest as it rises and falls beneath your hoodie. You don’t recall when in the last few minutes he managed to move his hands down to your waist, but you can feel them now as clear as ever. He grips the sides of your hoodie, nimble fingers sliding under the thick gray fabric until they find the skin beneath and his touch feels like fire, sparking flames along your hips with every small caress. It’s so hot that you aren’t sure how Tashi could pick anyone over him. You aren’t sure how anyone could deny him for that matter.

“No…” you admit and at once his hands start to travel higher and higher until they reach the bottom band of your bikini, inflaming the whole of your torso as he meets the straps still tied neatly together in the middle of your spine forming a perfect bow. His fingers follow the provided path, meeting at the center of your back as he starts to twirl one of the tails of the knot around his pointer finger.

“May I?” he asks, his tone so deceivingly politely as he gently tugs on the string. He waits patiently for your consent as his eyes pan up from your chest to your expression. You can’t get the words out, already too overwhelmed from the sizzling sensation of his touch, but you make sure to nod with the utmost enthusiasm. Who were you to tell Art Donaldson no when he was so eager to touch you? And you, in turn, were so eager to feel him.

He smiled at your agreeance and instantly unfastened the tie of your suit, pulling on the strand until the entire bow came undone. He lips pressed against yours once more before he settled down on the bench and raised the hem of your hoodie just enough to expose your stomach, peppering kisses to every inch of you.

You released your hold on him to assist in pulling the hoodie over your head, tossing it behind you where it lands in a crumple pile near the metal door of your locker. Without any tension left to hold it up, the triangle cutlets of your bikini slump to reveal two perfect pebbled nipples, leaving the towel looped around your waist as your only source of coverage.

Usually you’d feel insecure being so bare for a man that’s practically a stranger, but from the dazed look Art gives you as he takes in the sight of your figure, you find that you don’t mind it in the slightest.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Art mutters almost involuntarily, sending shock waves down straight to your core. The words came bursting out before he could find the strength to hold them back, his brain too busy processing your beauty to have any control over any sort of filter. You return your hands to his head of blonde curls just as he presses one last kiss to the center of your abdomen, exactly below your rib cage.

The movement is so sudden that you can't count the seconds that pass before he grabs at your breasts, each hand perfectly cupping the mounted flesh. His mouth is slower, trailing kisses up the valley of your chest.

His thumb works the sensitive skin encircling your nipple, running over the hardened peak in an unperceivable pattern that forces another well earned moan from your lips. It’s encouragement for his other hand that immediately drifts upwards to mirror the actions of the other. Every pinch and slight movement is like gasoline to your fire, all pouring in a downward stream to the part of you that grows more needy with every passing second. You could cry from the sensation of it all, the intensity only growing when you feel him pass his tongue over your left nipple. You try to suppress any sounds this time, teeth biting down on your lip as you curve your head back, but it forces its way out despite your efforts. You grip the hair fixed to his crown and pressure him forwards so that he remains in place.

“Shit, that feels - really good.” you praise, your phrase strung together like an old beaded bracelet as changes in pace break apart each word. When Art does part from your breasts, it’s to press wet kisses down the line of your abdomen as flickering thumbs replace his mouth. He pauses as he reaches the softest portion of your stomach, stopping just above the knot that is covering your very bare lower half, and though you don’t recall informing him about your lack of undergarments, you are sure that he already knows.

“I need to taste you,” he whispers against your skin.

He doesn’t ask you for permission anymore, but instead glances up at you from his spot on the bench and it’s everything you need to understand what he wants from you. And of course you want it. You’re sure if he wastes a second longer to tend to your throbbing center, you might just pass out in his sturdy arms.

“Please, Art, I need you,” you’re able to get out, though it’s breathy and delicate from the way that he’s rendered you.

He’s quick to oblige as he takes the top of your towel cover in between his perfect white teeth and yanks the fabric hard enough for it to fall to your feet. He’s on you in an instant, one of his hands moving to support your shaky frame as he slides a knee between yours to spread you open.

He coaxes every cry out of you with his tongue, wet and skilled as he traces it along each fold, his nose bobbing against your swollen clit not dissimilar from his left hand that still lies atop your breast. You press him closer to you as he swirls his tongue around you, over and over and never in the same way more than twice in a row. It’s overstimulation at its best, overwhelming you until you're trembling in his grasp and before you know it, you’re riding the edge of the wave to pure pleasure.

“Fuck, Art! I’m- I’m-“ you can’t even finish your sentence, he feels so good. He hums against you in amusement, the vibrations of his voice meeting your core in a melting sensation that you find yourself grinding into uncontrollably.

“On my tongue,” he promotes against you before licking a steady stripe along your center. It’s then that you know you’re done for. Your cry is almost inhuman as you leap off the edge, diving into the heart of the wave as Art finally relinquishes his hold on your breast and uses the newly unoccupied hand to pierce into your arousal, calloused fingers curling into you as he helps you down from your high. Even after you cum you know you still have more in you. And you can tell from the growing bulge in his pants that Art isn’t done with you either.

He stands to kiss you with dampened lips as the taste of your own arousal invades your senses, but you withdraw from the embrace after only a few seconds to ask him your burning question, desire already regrowing like a flooding river of need.

“Art, I need you,” you start, pulling at the canvas material of his button up. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before pressing his mouth towards yours and back you up to the wall of lockers that are neatly arranged behind you.

Granted by his permission, you unfasten each button of his shirt until it’s enough to pull it off him which he happily helps you accomplish. You can’t tell who’s more desperate for you to feel the dense muscle of his chest as he places your palms face down on his pecs, granting you the assurance you needed to explore his body.

You take your time, squeezing and prodding just as he had done to you until one of your hands is low enough on his stomach to palm him through his light wash jeans. The soft whimper he returns is nearly enough to send you over again. He pulls back as he lets you undo his belt, eyelids fluttering after you’ve unbuttoned and unzipped the only thing keeping you from him. You’re quick to pull him out, not at all shocked by how hard he is and it’s a major ego boost knowing it’s all because of you.

“See what you do to me?” he whispers against your lips as if you needed more proof of his longing for you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Please,” you beg. “I need to feel you.”

Art is quick to oblige as his calloused fingers grip the soft skin of your hips, so rough that you can feel every callus from his racket as he pushes you against the lockers, thrusting up into you. While he’s dying to continue, he hesitates so that you can acclimate to his size. It takes no longer than a second as you release a guttural groan and wrap a leg around his waist, aiding him in hitting even deeper within you.

“Fuck!” you cry, throwing your head back against the cold metal as Art nips at your neckline again. You’re drowning beneath the blissful rocky wave and from the sounds that he’s making, almost re-enacting one of his matches just for you, you can tell that Art is too.

It happens so quickly that your mind struggles to understand it, spinning wildly as the wave pulls you under once more along with Art who finishes in a similar amount of time. You lean into his chest, breathing heavily as you take in the heavenly scent of his undoubtedly expensive cologne and slightly wincing as he pulls out of you slowly. He ducks to pick up your fallen towel as he starts to clean you up.

The realization that it’s over doesn't quite hit you until Art helps you get dressed, buckling his belt back up only once you’re decent and in return you hand him a spare shirt so he doesn’t have to redo every button on the one you’d nearly torn off him.

“Thanks,” he smiles gratefully, pulling on your shirt which fits tighter around him than it would around you, though it’s nothing to complain about as every miniscule ripple of muscle is on display.

You’re both thinking the exact same thing as you exit the locker room, hand in hand with the same guilty expression on your face as you pass an incoming janitor who is too busy scowling to ask Art what he was doing in the women’s locker room. It’s obvious from the encounter that it won’t be your last and as Art drives you to the planned frat party, you’re even sure that it’s not the last of the night.

Time proves you right as you’re seated next to Art a few weeks later, curled into his side as you share a large plate of the appetizer combo at a local Applebees. It was the only thing open after a long day of matches and meets and steamy rendezvous in between. The two of you were going on steadier than the trunks of ancient trees as you continue to support each other, you attending all of Art’s matches ( even if it meant skipping a practice or two) and Art cheering for you at all of your meets. You’re not sure if it’s the consistent attendance, but the both of you were only getting better at your respective hobbies by the day, particularly Art who hadn’t lost a match since meeting you.

You’re both jokingly arguing over who gets the last quesadilla when a familiar woman stops near your table, joined by a man you’d never seen before, though you recognize him from several of Art's detailed stories. He straightens beside you, gathering himself to greet the new company.

“Hey guys, long time no see!”

“Art,” Patrick nods to his friend before smiling to you and offering his hand, one that you take without a second thought. “I’m Patrick.”

“I know,” you admit. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You must be Tashi.” you turn to the girl and you can’t help, but analyze the peculiarities of her expression. It’s clear she is content with her own man of choice, but something about the way she looks at you tells you that she’s still involved in the tennis philosophy you managed to screw out of Art. She looks at you like you’re a player she’s lost to. And from what Art’s told you, you're certain it’s the first time Tashi has lost.

“It’s nice to meet you.” she fakes a smile before pulling Patrick to the door, careful not to stay long enough for the conversation to lead anywhere important. It’s awkward and strange, but you know it’s for the best. You’re not particularly interested in anything she has to say anyways.

“Did you see that?” you ask, pointing in the direction of the doorway that the couple had used for an easy escape.

“What?” Art wonders, looking towards you in anticipation.

“I think she’s looking for a new winner.”

Art leans in to peck the apple of your cheek, assurance that no matter the circumstance, he’ll never be available to the likes of Tashi Duncan again.

“Must be because I’ve won,” he reasons, “-because I have you and there’s nothing she can do to separate us.”

You smile at his sweet words, praying that he never ceases to use his talent for affectionate poetry as you lean in to kiss him. Whether he wins or loses or even never plays again, you couldn’t care less about the outcome of his career. As long as Art’s happy, you’re prepared to take on any challenge you’re put up to, whether on the court or in the pool.

[celluloidbroomcloset]

Alright, I wanna talk about this moment in "Red Flags." Because, first, yes, Rhys Darby's face and ability to convey a whole series of emotions before he even says anything.

But second, the importance of the words themselves. Lucius points out that maybe Stede needs to really pay attention to what those wanted posters are saying. Then:

"Maybe the time he spent with you is the best it's ever going to get for him." "...I'm not ready to believe that."

It's not "I don't believe that" or "I won't believe that." He's not ready. There's an acknowledgment there that what he finds, when he does find Ed, might not be what he hopes for. But he's not ready to give up.

Stede is driven by hope. Sometimes it's hope against all odds, and sometimes it's a hope that seems to ignore reality, at least from the outside. And throughout the first few episodes of Season 2, a number of people try to tell Stede to "face facts."

Stede's hope isn't blind, though. That's what this line conveys so clearly, echoed later when he interrupts Izzy to show just how very much he does understand Ed. It's not that he refuses to believe what others are telling him, or that he refuses to believe what his own eyes will confirm. It's that he's not ready to give up. He believes exactly what he says - that Ed is a good guy. That he's hurt. That he needs help. But that he's good.

Throughout two seasons, Stede is the only person who sees Ed clearly, in part because there are things that Ed shares with him he never shares with anyone else. What looks like naivete from the outside is a depth of knowledge no one else has, not just about Ed's darkness, but about his light. Stede knows that Ed killed his father, and he's been trusted with Ed's fears and vulnerabilities. He's seen the gentleness and the kindness and the hope too. The result is that Stede is the only person who hasn't given up on Ed, including Ed himself.

When he tells Lucius he's not ready to believe that, he says it with conviction, but also with tears in his eyes. He knows that it's possible that the man he loves really is gone. He's also willing to take the risk, if there's the slightest hope he's not.

[fatuismooches]

At the beginning of your relationship with Dottore, there had been numerous times when he had tried to leave you, or rather, attempt to force you to leave him in the Akademiya. Ignoring you, snapping at you... most notably literally kicking you out of the dorm (to waking up and nearly stepping on you, as you had decided to knock out right at the door.) Merely because he still had difficulty believing he was loved by you, despite having known you for years. It took much time but, eventually, your feelings finally clicked in that genius head of his.

However, uncharacteristically enough, there was one time you debated on whether you should leave Zandik. Only one time. And he had found out. If only you had been more careful.

It happened during the later stage of your illness when your ability to do many basic tasks had been stripped from you, leaving you reliant on Zandik for many things. You felt very guilty, for making him so do much work for both himself and you, but there wasn't much you could do about it, being the way you were now. Did you tell your lover about this? No, of course not.

But today, today would just be another regular day of what you had accepted to be your new life. However, you had noticed in the morning he seemed rather irritated, but you had no chance to ask him about it since he had to leave for class. You wondered what that was all about. (You, somewhere in the depths of your mind thought. You were continuously being a burden on the knowledge-driven scholar, no wonder he'd be irritated.)

When he returned to the dorm, you could tell that the foul mood still remained. Though, you could not understand what had caused it. He was perfectly fine last night, something must have happened after you fell asleep... As you watched him, the words "welcome home" could not seem to come out as they usually did, especially when he had not even acknowledged you yet, only emptying his bag with all of his books and other tools. You swallowed nervously, wondering how you were going to go about this when he spoke.

"Where?"

"Huh?"

"Where do you plan to go?" You were understandably confused by this seemingly random question.

"Um... nowhere?" A nervous smile made its way to your face, as Zandik only gave you a blank look, before carefully unfolding a piece of paper, and reading it over once more, no emotion on his face. Which, was already quite alarming for you, because Zandik was the kind of person who always had a hint of annoyance written on his face. He then turned the paper to face you and you squinted, reading the contents.

Oh. You instantly recognized what it was. It was a form that one had to fill out if they wanted to move out of the Akademiya's dorms.

When you said you felt guilty for everything, you meant it. Meant it to the point you worried if you were still good enough for him, if you had become annoying, a bumbling nuisance that had become more of a chore rather than a partner. It worried you, and you couldn't help but think about it. What if you were right? What if he did feel all of those things? Then maybe, maybe you should relieve him of this burden. You. Then, he could continue to pursue his goals, without the added hindrance of taking care of you.

It wasn't something you were set on yet, more like something you mulled over in your head. But you had filled out the potential moving out form tentatively just in case you decided to go through with it. Ah, you probably had shoved it in your bag along with your many missing assignments, and Zandik must have found it after trying to check your homework... But now, your lover was staring holes into you, expecting an answer.

"Well, I- I didn't mean it. It was... just in case," you were just spewing words at this point because you really had no defense. After all, how do you explain to your roommate of many years that you were going to move out and disappear without telling him?

"Just in case," the scholar repeats. "Just in case..." And then Zandik laughs. At what? You're not sure, because you've only seen him laugh at other people's foolishness, or in scorn and bitterness. It's a bit unsettling, seeing him act this way, but you have no time to think about it before the paper is torn right in half twice and then abandoned in the trash bin.

"No." Well... alright then.

"Za-"

"No, no no no. How utterly absurd. Ridiculous. You are not going anywhere." The way he says it simultaneously sounds like an order to you yet also an attempt to reassure himself of your impossible departure. You wondered if he interpreted your reason for leaving as something more... drastic.

"Hey-" You stand up, hoping an embrace would calm his nerves, but he begins to pace around. Now, this wouldn't be unusual, he tends to do this while he's ranting or deeply thinking about his research but obviously, it's different this time.

"Leave? No," Zandik scoffs to himself, "the possibility is nigh on impossible. There is no need to plan for such lengths, I shall make sure it doesn't come to that." When he finished mumbling to himself, you tried to interject before his gaze snapped back to you.

"And you. You, how dare you go behind my back and do such a thing? Do you think me incompetent? Do you think me a senseless fool that I would allow you to do this?"

"..."

"I find this quite tasteless, especially after how much you parroted about 'always being by my side' or 'never leaving'. Or have you finally shown your true colors? Leaving me after-" Zandik cut himself off because the words he was going to say next shouldn't be said out loud. Leaving him after he's already obsessed with you, when he's already in love with you and would go mad without your presence. But then all he could feel was your arms around him and your face buried in his chest.

"Zandik please, I'm sorry," your voice was but a whisper. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything like that." Zandik's hands itched to hold you back, but he restrained himself, needing to hear your reasoning.

"I don't want to leave you, I really don't. I love you! So... that's why I filled that form out. Because I... am scared of burdening you too much. I know how you are. I know you want someone who is useful, w-who can be of assistance in all kinds of ways, not someone who is dead weight. So I... I don't want you to force yourself to- ow!" Your increasingly pitiful dialogue was interrupted by a flick to your forehead and the clicking of a tongue.

"Fool..." he moved his hand to rest on the top of your head. "You can be quite intelligent, but the reasons for your stupidity can be headache-inducing sometimes. Now that you've said all of that, has it clicked how idiotic it sounds?" Though your partner's words sounded harsh, his tone was noticeably softer. You could only cast your gaze downward as he sighed.

"I too wonder why you do not take your own advice. Were you not the one who said to... 'talk things out', before jumping to conclusions? So why have I not heard of this?" (The phrase feels out of place and rather disgusting on the man who normally refuses to hold a conversation on anything other than research, but he forces it out for your sake. Unfortunately, he can also hear your sing-song voice in his head as he replays the words.)

"Because... it's dumb, like you said. I shouldn't waste your time anymore..."

"I usually do not entertain dumb inquiries but... you are an exception. My assistant's questions must always be clarified." And as his lover, your troubles must always be assuaged, but that part was left unsaid, although you knew what he meant. "Yes, your usefulness was a great help, but I couldn't care less about that right now. I care about you, and if taking on extra responsibilities happens to fall under that feeling, then so be it. I don't care," Zandik said bluntly. Was it elegant? No. Was it truthful? Yes. It made your cheeks warm a bit.

"Well... thank you for the honor," you couldn't help but crack a tiny smile as Zandik only mumbled something incoherent before pushing you back to bed. Ah, you were feeling a little drained from all of that.

"Now that all that is sorted out, and that hopefully every inch of that nonsense has left you, I suggest you go to sleep quickly, unless you want to be kept awake by the sounds of my latest experiment." You only giggled at your boyfriend. He's unkind... in a kind way if that made sense. But before you could be whisked away to the land of dreams, Zandik spoke once more.

"[Name]."

"Mhm?"

"...Do not try to leave me ever again."

"...I know, Zandik."

[literaila]

Would Gojo have any type of preference regarding a person's appearance? What personality type would he be most attracted to? What's going on in that man's head? I just want to know 🥺

well… okay. i mean, obviously satoru is aware that there’s not many people who can compare to the most beautiful (him) so he doesn’t value looks too heavily, i think (again unless it’s him we’re talking about but he’s the most beautiful person in existence so…)

satoru likes people who make him feel good, you know? the people he can gain from.

the people on the street who stop and stare at him for a moment—they think he’s attractive and he knows (likes) it. the sorcerers who practically kneel at his feet? they feed his ego and he likes them. utahime who falls victim to his antics? he likes her, but only because she makes him laugh. and suguru who makes him feel understood? well, he likes that.

all of the people that satoru is drawn to have some sort of appeal to them. and they might be beautiful, but they’ll never be as beautiful as he is, so who cares?

it’s not necessarily looks that drew him to you, of course.

obviously, when he and megumi are sitting on the couch one day, flipping through old photos and polaroids from what seems to be decades ago now, and you’re off in another room, looking through boxes for the pictures that are missing, satoru is admiring you.

maybe he was stupid enough not to notice it when he was seventeen, but he’s grown.

and when looking at the fresh faced, innocent-eyed precious little person you used to be? god.

hes looking at himself right beside you, wondering how he could’ve been so oblivious to his own preferences. to the strange way his eyes always tilted towards you, the cautious sort of observance he displayed for only one person.

and when megumi whispers “mom is so pretty.” satoru can’t help but nod his head in agreement.

he makes a little nose in the back of his throat, somehow even more entranced with you than he was at seventeen and responds “the prettiest.”

but that’s not what he first noticed, or even what he first cared about.

when satoru met you, you were belligerent. you wanted nothing to do with him or his six eyes, even when he only greeted you with the highest respect and upmost amusement.

(he put out his hand for you to shake and laughed when you couldn’t do it. but really, how is a mere boy not supposed to laugh when someone is gawking at him?)

you spent months actively avoiding him—everyone, more like—getting close to only nanami and haibara in the simplest of terms.

but when satoru began to look for you—really look, beyond all of the amused observation and side comments he enjoyed making—things changed.

he found that you were… stubborn. cruel, for someone so young, so fortunate to be as powerful as you were.

he watched as you began to emerge from whatever depths you’d fallen into, becoming fast friends with the two people in your year, and bonding with both shoko and suguru so quickly that satoru was practically bewildered.

(and maybe a little bit jealous)

suguru was his best friend, but he wanted more attention. he wanted your eyes and your laughter—the same kind that everyone else got from you.

so satoru pushed himself closer, forced himself upon you and… there was a lot to gain.

maybe it was the simplest of things—the way you listened. you teased him like everyone, groaned when you saw him making his way toward you—but you listened when he spoke. your eyes were attentive, and not just because of his looks.

or maybe it was the understanding that came with time. the person who he had once merely glanced over who was now communicating with him in glances, nudging him when he was distracted, nodding along with his rants about suguru’s high morality, or yaga’s complaints.

satoru couldn’t help but be impressed, or grateful with the way you got him. the things that other people questioned but you never did.

or maybe it was just the way you made him feel.

the light, airy feeling that clan heads don’t get—especially when they’re born being just that. the easygoing, enamored, wanderlust feeling that satoru had never imagined for himself.

the feeling that you saw him for something more than his god-given looks, more than his unbelievable strength.

that subtle conviction that made him feel like he could choose, perhaps, instead of just being chosen.

there’s much to gain from love, satoru realizes, only years later when he’s stopped pushing himself away from it.

there’s much to be gained from being loved.

…and if, maybe, he realizes that you’re probably the most beautiful person in existence and not him?

well, everything has its consequences.

[elysiansparadise]

Full of surprises, you never finish getting to know them but as time goes by, your affection for them grows. Lighthearted outside, profound personality on the inside. 

Gemini Rising: Fascinating Mind & Heart

Charming smile, well accompanied by an inquisitive, agile and curious mind, complement a personality endowed with depth and many layers that protect someone who fears feeling lost and directionless, someone who puts a lot of pressure on themselves and who often overanalyzes the things they happen around you. They have a strong need to understand what is really happening around them, to not miss anything and to achieve that stability that they have not felt throughout their lives. Your mind is a temple full of knowledge, interesting things to say and share, but most importantly, it keeps great abilities, intelligence and enchanting qualities.

Security is something crucial for them, both emotional and economic, and they are willing to give everything of themselves so as not to lose it once they achieve it. This behavior and way of seeing things is attributed to them by Cancer in the 2nd house. They tend to be very protective people with what they consider important in their lives, some of these natives can become attached to their material goods for the simple fact that it has taken them time to obtain them, despite this, they are generous people when it comes to those. To those who love. Being a house ruled by the Moon when it is in Cancer, these people can experience economic ups and downs in their lives. Likewise, this house, beyond talking about our material goods, talks about our self-esteem, which is stressed throughout their life. They are people who take great care of their money, but may have a tendency to spend it on one whim or another. Many of them may make purchases when they are emotionally down as a way to find comfort. They have the need for constancy on an emotional level, keeping promises, demonstrating through actions that the native is important and providing them with reaffirmation and reliability, in return, these natives give exactly the same to the other person.

The presence of Leo in the 3rd house makes these natives have great intellectual ability. Being a house ruled by the Sun, it makes them capable of standing out and shining for their surprising intellect. Accompanied by the ease of learning new skills and highlighting their hobbies, this native has great charisma and an ability to move, entertain and communicate exactly what is going through their minds. Academically they may have been very successful, stood out for their performance or even been seen as charming and fun by their peers, this however also makes them prone to attracting some envy. They passionately share what crosses their mind and are able to spread passion and interest through their speech. Many of these natives are great communicators and have great abilities to understand all kinds of ideas, no matter how complex they may be. They are determined to continue obtaining knowledge in areas that arouse their interest, in which they are certainly very selective. They are people who hold tightly to their opinions and can become very good at convincing people that they are right. Many of them can enjoy debating and communicating ideas contrary to those that are established. They speak from the heart, they hate speeches that are too technical, boring or not very dynamic, they will always seek to add fun, a touch of comedy or at least interesting to a conversation. They stand out for their creativity and wittiness, traits that make them very loved by others.

These people are lighthearted and very accepting of those things that seem different or unknown to them, but there is a quality about themselves that only those who are very close to them know, their tendency towards perfectionism and that desire to want to have things under control, shown par excellence with Virgo in the 4th house. These natives like to have things under control, especially their emotional world and themselves. They tend to show these traits especially with themselves, in some cases they may want to take care of some things themselves in order for things to be done well and in their own way, especially if Saturn is in this house or if the ruler is making a hard aspect with Saturn [conjunction, square, opposition, quincunx]. They dislike uncertainty and what is not certain, as it makes them anxious and uncomfortable to a certain extent. They are very analytical people even with their emotions, they like to know why they feel what they feel and they can spend a lot of time in their inner world trying to figure out who they really are. They are very private people when it comes to their family life and emotional vulnerability. It is very likely that they have experienced some emotionally complex moment that has made them partially or temporarily distance themselves from some family members.

A unique charm, a personality so interesting and sublime that it envelops you with a simple glance. Their voice, their ethereal beauty, their charisma and their enchanting skills make those with Libra in the 5th house the target of all those looking for a romantic lover who adds excitement to their lives. They are thoughtful, loving people who give their best in their love relationships, they have a desire to love deeply and be loved in that way, with perseverance, meaningful details and feel that deep connection that awakens that spark of inspiration in them. Love with them feels like heaven itself, a perfect mix of passion and affection, friendship and love. They can have many artistic gifts, especially those related to design and aesthetics, their beauty makes them stand out and they have a unique quality that makes them easily loved by the public. Being ruled by Venus, makes these natives like and attracted to the interesting, the fun and, why not, the risk and intensity of this fire house [naturally ruled by Leo]. They can greatly enjoy movies, cinema and music, in general have a great appreciation of art. In the case that they decide to have children, they will treat them gently and teach them kindness and good values, at the same time they will do activities that they enjoy with them and they will be very caring and loving. They can have very sociable, kind and graceful children. 

One of the reasons why this particular rising is attributed its sharp and impressive analytical capabilities is because of Scorpio in the 6th house, this overlay makes them extremely observant, reaching the point that nothing slips and nothing easy to lie or hide things about them. They have research skills, an outstanding intellect and an excellent eye for detail. Many of them can work in the economics sector due to their analysis skills, others can opt for the health field, whether as doctors, psychologists, veterinarians or in another area that involves healing, and finally they can obtain the field of the industry for the quality of transformation. Most of these natives, being very independent and disliking feeling controlled in any way, may choose to work on their own and many of them [especially if Saturn is there or aspecting the 6th house ruler] may prefer or achieve leadership roles in their works. Their work environment is usually tense, they may have co-workers who envy their promotions or abilities, or who have lots of disagreements with them. In terms of health, the native enjoys vitality and good health, it is necessary that they learn to manage their thoughts because they have a tendency to deal with anxiety, intrusive thoughts or intense fears/phobias. Likewise, they may have hormonal problems. These people reject monotony and feel the need to feel mentally stimulated, so they may seem busy most of the time by the various interests they have or how busy their mind can be.

When these natives commit to someone to have a serious relationship, they are adventure personified, this is shown with Sagittarius in the 7th house. There is something so radiant and touching about them and it is that they are like a ray of light for their partners, they are the ones who, after the torrid storms that life can give them, return that hope, give them that support and are there by their side ready to continue accompanying them. They give their partner many joys and unforgettable moments, new experiences and a partner who loves them for who they are. These natives are looking for a partner who will give them those experiences and sensations that they thought they would never have on those dark nights, someone who excites them, is the reason for their mischievous smiles and who is that partner who teaches and guides them when they are most nervous or insecure. they can feel. Someone who contributes positively to their lives, who gives as much as they know they can give and who addresses them with transparency and honesty. They look for certainty from their partner, someone who does not hesitate to say and feel that the native is the one, someone who makes obvious the interest they feel towards them and constantly reaffirms it but in the process makes things interesting and intriguing. Future spouse is likely to be older in experience or age but very young at heart, someone with wisdom and a lot of experiences to tell the native, in some cases they are usually from a different continent, country or state and are usually like a teacher for the native. Something incredible about these natives is that they tend to have a positive influence on others, who perceive them to be more passionate, happy, and optimistic than they perceive themselves to be. They always leave an important lesson wherever they go and their warmth and good nature remains with others. 

When we see Capricorn in the 8th house, the native who fears the idea of ​​being perceived as uninteresting, predictable and superficial, they fear other people imposing rules or expectations on them and, in some cases they may fear feeling that they are like one of their parents, or an older member of their family. May have difficulty feeling intimate with someone, because this house is ruled by Saturn after all which adds obstacles when it comes to becoming intimate on a deep level with someone. They look for stability and trust as well as the feeling of having reliability from the other person. They love being with people with whom they share points of view and ways of seeing life, since many of them find it very difficult to be with someone who has very different ideals from their own in terms of relationships. In sex, they can enjoy being with partners who are older than them, with more experience or who simply teach them new things, they have an intense drive and can be more passionate than they first appear. Something that goes hand in hand with the feeling of desire that they may have towards someone is admiration. If the other person does not inspire them, does not seek to improve themselves and has no ambition, it can be a huge turn off for them. Physical contact for them is something crucial in a relationship, they will love to touch and turn on their partner in this way, but they can like it even if there is no sex involved, hugs, massages or holding hands can even be something that makes them feel safe or happy with their partner. There is a mix between the desire to dominate or be dominated by your partner in bed but also to protect and be protected by them. As time goes by, the native connects more with their sexual energy and their sex appeal increases as they grow.

With Aquarius in the 9th house the native has an insatiable thirst for new knowledge, it is never usually enough for them to learn new things or skills and they seek to delve deeply into a topic. They may have a tendency to get fixated on a specific topic quickly but become disinterested once they feel they have already explored everything. They are curious about the idea of ​​visiting distant places and it is likely that they will do several of them throughout their lives. Being ruled by Uranus, surprising and unexpected things can happen to them on trips, and this also indicates many plane trips. In terms of career, they may opt for a career that no one in their family has studied, or that they don't like, or simply something that seems very complex in the eyes of others. The decision to take a gap year is likely, and if Uranus is making tense aspects to Saturn, they will likely decide not to study at university. Even so, the native will possess great wisdom and a very unique way of seeing the world. They may have many friends who live far from them or, to be more specific, in other countries, but despite the distance they feel a genuine and close touch to them.

Pisces in the 10th house makes them people who can give different impressions, and each one is very different from the other. Many people tend to project themselves onto natives more frequently than they would like, in the same way, people tend to idealize them constantly. It is very likely that parents will place many expectations on the native, especially if the ruler is making a tense aspect with the Moon or Saturn. This overlay usually gives the native a wide variety of interests, so the decision of what career to study can be a big and difficult decision that they face when they are young. What they know for sure is that they need a job in which They can learn a lot and use their talents and creative abilities. These people may work in the art field or in places where they can help other people. With this position of Pisces, the natives usually give an ethereal impression, they charm the public and strangers easily, their beauty can be something that makes them stand out among the crowd, also due to the nature of this sign, this person can contribute a lot to others through your work, you can impact the lives of others in a favorable way, you can help and inspire many with ease.

There is something admirable about the independence of these people, the confidence with which they project themselves and how they seem to be very well on their own, what makes them even more inspiring is the quality they can offer in their friendships, all of this a product of Aries in the 11th house. These people focus a lot on their friendships, on being there for them and making them have a good time after a difficult day. Although they do not seem very emotional with them, their support is unconditional and they fervently support those they call friends. Speaking of this area, they tend to be people who attract some drama in their groups of friends, which makes them opt for small groups. In personal terms, this house also governs economic income, so Aries here indicates a person who seeks to generate money, an enterprising soul to whom the doors of money are not closed and can work a lot or in one or more things to have your desired income. They like to be financially independent and take pride in achieving things on their own. They will fight to achieve their goals and to make come true what they aspired to at some point in their life.

Life has been a complex journey, hasn't it? One where you have been tested an enormous number of times, how much you can tolerate, how much you can change, how many changes you can adapt to. It seems that life has a fast pace, and that leads you to adapt to the flow of it. When will it be my turn? Can someone or something adapt to me? Taurus in the 12th house makes you want a minute of peace, but at the same time it brings with it the fear of being left behind, of stagnating but also of not finding tranquility. You want to be able to take a breath, to enjoy the feeling of having a safe place, and experience stability for the first time. You don't allow yourself to stop, be still and you put a lot of pressure on yourself, but deep down you would like to feel that you are not being rushed, that there is no rush to make a decision, that there is no rush to grow, that there is no need to run if you have doubts. You may be carrying a feeling of little stability from a very young age, the idea of ​​creating your own stability or being the only person in whom you can find reliability. Doubts or feeling unconfident overwhelm you, but it has never been enough to stop you, you have the will and the desire to move forward, even if you would silently like someone to be by your side to guide and guide you when the paths become very dark. Unconsciously you evoke this feeling of companionship and stability, many people really feel that you are a beyond trustworthy person, someone with whom life seems like an entertaining and interesting journey. You evoke a feeling of peace and you can see that throughout your life many people will trust you and feel secure with your presence. With this overlay, you can have very intense variations in self-esteem, some of these natives may be afraid of not knowing what is going to happen and losing control of themselves and their life. They dream of being able to have everything they ever wanted to have [material and emotional] even if at some point they thought they would never have it or experience it. 

[writingquestionsanswered]

do you have advice on how to write genuine dialogue? i have a very severe case of when getting into the mindset of writing, and specifically writing dialogue, i only regurgitate whatever i have heard/seen from other media. it just seems unoriginal, ingenuine, and for aesthetic value only (i end up writing something out of a poem and not real people conversations). please help 😞

Writing Dialogue That Sounds Natural/Genuine

1 - Know Your Characters Well - One of the most important elements of writing natural/genuine-sounding dialogue is making sure you know your characters well. If you don't know who they are... their personalities, their experiences, what they care about, what they know and don't know... then you can't accurately envision what they'd have to say in a conversation. See: Making Personalities Unique and Keeping Them Straight

2 - Flesh Out Character Voice - "Character voice" is how your character's background, experiences, and personality affect what they say and how they speak. This isn't about quality of voice... it's about vocal personality. See: Giving Your Characters a Unique Voice

3 - Know What They're Going To Talk About - There's nothing that sounds more unnatural and inauthentic than characters having a conversation that has no relevance to anything. That said, it's super important to understand why you're writing this dialogue scene... what are you trying to accomplish with it? How does that move the story forward, move character development forward, or deliver important information to the reader? What needs to be said and why? Being clear on this can help you craft dialogue that sounds natural and genuine because it's relevant and serves a purpose.

4 - Balance Exposition, Action, and Dialogue - Overall, we want our stories to have a relative balance of exposition (explaining things), action (things happening), and dialogue. We want a relative balance of exposition, action, and dialogue in our scenes, too. What I mean by "relative" is you generally wouldn't want a scene that's all dialogue, very little action, and no exposition. (And I say "generally" because there can be exceptions... short scenes, scenes that serve a unique purpose, scenes with unique requirements, etc.) So, it's important to really think about the needs of your scene, what you're trying to accomplish, and make sure you've got a relative balance of dialogue, exposition, and action (as long as it works for the scene.) See: Exposition, Action, and Dialogue, and How to Pace Your Story

5 - Write Dialogue with Sensory and Emotional Depth - We never want our dialogue to be just words batted back and forth between two or more people. Dialogue needs to have depth, and we give it that depth in two ways.

-- Sensory Details in Dialogue -- Sight: what are the characters doing as they talk? What is their body language? Facial expressions? Hand gestures? How do they physically interact with their environment and others in the conversation? Sound: quality of voice (when characters voices get loud or soft, when a voice is gritty or raspy, when the speaker has an accent or speaks with a particular tone or cadence) as we as sounds like coughing, clearing the throat, or sighing... and sounds resulting from the character's interactions with the environment or others. Smell: bad breath or alcohol on the breath... or good breath... the smell of the speaker's perfume or body odor, the smell of a cigarette they're smoking, or a food they're eating.

Taste: there aren't many opportunities to include taste in dialogue, but possibilities would be tasting bile due to something awful someone said in the conversation, tasting food or drink sampled during conversation, or even "tasting" a smell associated with the environment during the conversation.

Feel: again, this will be more environmental... feeling a "chill" in the room when something cruel or scary is said. Noticing things felt due to the environment or interaction with the environment/others. Internal physical sensations felt during conversation.

*** And, it's important to note that I'm not suggesting that you include every sense or lots of sensory details. It's just adding a few that make sense can add depth and authenticity to the dialogue.

-- Emotional Details in Dialogue --

You also want to be sure to explore the emotional impact of the conversation as well as what characters are thinking as they participate in the conversation, and what they feel about what others are saying. As mentioned above in the "feel" portion of sensory details, you can explore the internal sensations caused by emotions felt as a result of the conversation. Stomach turning due to something unpleasant being said. Butterflies in stomach due to something exciting being said. Chill up the spine due to something scary being said. You can also explore emotions through visual emotional cues, which brings us back to things like body language, gestures, and facial expressions. Letting us know what characters are thinking and feeling (emotionally) during the conversation--or what they appear to be thinking and feeling if they don't say or we can't be inside their heads--adds depth and authenticity to the dialogue scene.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[ayaboba]

one chance pt.2

summary: you give them one chance. how do they use it?

characters: kazuha, lyney, wanderer, zhongli

notes: zhongli’s is super rushed im sorry, gn reader! wc: 200-400

part 1: alhaitham, diluc, neuvillette, wriothesley

kazuha

Lethargic movements of cascading waves rock the ship, emanating a warm ambience of comfort, wrapping you around in a dreamlike mist. It’s dark, the cabin is silent, and dawn is slowly approaching. Nevertheless, swallowed in the labyrinth of blankets and pillows, your sleep is undisturbed, a line of drool evident on your chin.

Unlike usual, the space next to you is empty. Strange, isn’t it? The whole blanket has been carefully intertwined around you, a beautifully simple yet loving action calculated from the very depths of his heart.

It’s likely that you’ve probably forgotten.

The one chance you’ve given him, the perfect time, and Kazuha would be a fool to let it pass.

—

The sudden explosion of sunlight almost blinds you.

“Kazuha… It’s too early,” you mumble incoherently, sleep still tangling your words, your movements sluggish as you follow his blurry figure. “Besides, where are you taking me?”

Kazuha rotates to face you, a gentle smile plastered on his cheeky face. Almost flirtatious.

“Take my hand,” he whispers, etching closer and pulling you just a bit further. “And look.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, moving to your side, revealing the dazzling sky he promised since day one.

lyney

Sitting in the front row of the Opera Epiclese means you’re able to catch the smaller things. Actions are more precise, mistakes become more prominent, and, of course, the stars are always shining more magnificently than ever.

Tonight, it’s Lyney and Lynette.

Their voices glide over the exhilarated crowds, cheering and clapping jubilantly at the success of one of the final tricks. Confetti rains from the ceilings, glitter gleams from every corner, and finally, it’s time for the show to end.

The curtains aren’t closing, and no one is moving.

That mischievous glint in his eyes, directed solely at you as he bows, a discreet hint on what he’s going to commit next.

—

A vibrant bouquet of rainbow roses lands on your lap.

You look around, and for a second, you’re confused.

Then you finally understand. It’s almost humorous how he managed to remember that small promise.

Everyone else has a singular, crimson rose.

“A beautiful red rose as a token of our appreciation,” Lyney announces, beaming towards the audience. “And a single bouquet gifted the most delightful person here, who once told me that I had only one chance to charm them without words.”

When his eyes meet yours, it’s victorious—painfully so. Almost as if saying to you: I told you, didn’t I?

wanderer

You’ve been staring at the bland ceilings of your shared bedroom for nearly all day.

The furniture that once was neatly placed in their respective areas are now all messily piled up against the door. It’s locked, but today, you were highly determined to be as agitating as your boyfriend was, no matter how many stacks of furniture it’s going to take. Even if a small part of your resolve was beginning to run out like the sand in an hourglass.

You’re currently debating if you should just abandon this fruitless attempt. He always did this better anyway. Being sulky was really not your thing, and perhaps he knew that too; otherwise, he likely would’ve barged in the first few seconds of your outburst of annoyance.

There only seems to be one problem—a big problem. How are you going to return the stacks of furniture to their original placement in the most quiet fashion so he wouldn’t suspect a thing? So that he wouldn’t suspect that you’ve lost your own competition? You didn’t even bother to conceal the scrapes and bangs when first assembling it.

A few ideas spout in your head, each more desperate and ridiculous than the previous.

An irritating sigh escapes from you as you flop back onto the bed, once again back to square one.

—

From somewhere within the depths of your shared bedroom, a snicker escapes. And then another.

The variety of sleep lines on your arm and heavy pounding in your head are evidence that you fell asleep. When you sit up, movements tired and slow, everything looks and feels lopsided. As if the world had been rearranged. The space before the door looks so empty… Wait, didn’t it hold a barricade of furniture before?

Everything begins to connect; you begin to piece together all the possibilities, but not before someone has to butt in.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

The closeness of the voice startles you; the warm familiarity sending a coded message down your spine.

Next to you on the bed, lying on his side, looking all proud and pleased, is the only person who could get away with all this. Winning your heart and being every exception.

“This is the only time I’ll forgive you. This was your last chance, okay?” you warn.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies airily as he sinks beneath the covers. “You’ll repeat that the next few hundred times too.”

zhongli

Strange things have been happening these past few months.

Maybe you’re just overthinking it, but you swear everyone knows something you don’t. The only person you can agree is just as clueless about it all: the consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Mr Zhongli.

However, he’s also been acting a bit unusual lately. You haven’t seen him in a while, and you’re not stupid enough to believe that it’s a coincidence that you never bump into him anymore.

The possibility makes your heart sink.

Moving on, you assess his boss, Director Hu. Typically bright and vivacious, more than often singing lively poems throughout Liyue.

Lately, she’s been more short-tempered. You recall her complaining about something about having a scaredy-cat consultant just yesterday evening.

As if she could hear your thoughts, a hushed ‘boo’ comes from one of the bushes.

—

“Aiyaaa… This bush is so spiky..."

“Director Hu? What are you doing hiding in a bush?”

She glances up, rubbing her sore arms before squeezing further into the bush with a desperate, “Shush! He’s coming!” at your bewildered expression.

You turn to where she was pointing, and it’s…Zhongli?

Zhongli with a bouquet of glaze lilies?

Your breath hitches as he gets closer, a gentle smile gracing his face as he offers you his hand.

The split second before he hands you the exquisite bouquet, a faint giggle is heard from behind you.

“Guess you’re no longer a scaredy-cat anymore, Mr. Zhongli? It’s about time; he’s been dying to do this for months.”

[delirious-donna]

Coffee And A Smoke [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: another suggestion for Hiromi that I couldn’t pass up. I feel like this has potential for more but I’d really have to do some plotting and brain crunching before I could commit.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: smoking (is it obvious from this that I don’t smoke and never have? I hope not but…), SFW, very light flirting if you squint, mention of toxic habits, alcohol mention

Masterlist

Higuruma always felt a pang of sympathy for new starts. They had a habit of reminding him of his earliest days as a freshly qualified lawyer, his excitement to change the world and be the type not to back away from the difficult fights.

For a while, he had been that man and took on David and Goliath level cases to test his resolve, to prove that a person with enough determination and hard work could be the victor. Sadly, it didn’t last long.

He hoped you wouldn’t fall from grace quite so quickly or inelegantly as he had once done. Hiromi might not care for his reputation being tarnished these days, the dross he was tossed like it was a kindness to him, but he would never wish it upon anyone else.

You appeared only a handful of years younger than he was, and he wondered if you were maybe late to the career. It made him wonder how bad your previous line of work might have been to make you consider this circle of hell as your new livelihood. There was more than a chance that he would never know, he didn’t exactly draw people to him in the workplace. Rather he was looked upon mostly like a kicked puppy that everyone felt sorry for but never approached to comfort for fear of catching fleas.

Picking up his pen, the chewed end finding its home between his teeth, Hiromi returned to his work and put you out of his mind.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to the man over in the far corner?” You wondered aloud, the young secretary designated to be your ‘day one buddy’ glanced in the direction you were looking and visibly grimaced.

“Another day. He’s busy,” she countered with a wave of her hand.

Frowning at her dismissive tone and attitude, you looked over again and met with tired, hangdog eyes. He blinked, seeming unperturbed and gave a small bow of his head before turning back to his screen. There was something about this man, you couldn’t for the life of you figure it out, but something intrigued you more than it should.

The interaction did not go unnoticed. “That’s Higuruma Hiromi. He’s rather… particular about the cases he takes. Generally, he keeps to himself.”

You wondered if he was lonely, or maybe not well versed in socialising. Whatever it was, there was an aura surrounding his corner of the large office, like a perpetual rain cloud that threatened to rain but the cloud never burst.

With so much to learn and an entire new work environment to navigate, you quickly forgot all about the mysterious Higuruma and focused on finding your feet.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later did you find yourself in his presence. After a tortuous phone call with a troublesome client, you found yourself in desperate need to indulge in the bad habit you had sworn you’d given up, a cigarette.

Stepping outside into the small office courtyard, you fumbled for the emergency packet buried in the depths of your bag. You cursed when you realised you might have the actual cigarette you craved, but there wasn’t a lighter in sight, not even tucked away in one of the handy dandy compartments.

“Need a light?”

You whirled around and nearly landed on your behind at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Higuruma who had the good grace to look sheepish for scaring you out of your skin.

“It seems so,” you said with a shrug, stepping closer as the man held out his lighter and flicked the flame into life for you. “I don’t smoke often.”

Higuruma hummed in understanding, glancing down at his own half-finished cigarette, tapping away the excess ash. “I’d like to say the same, but I’m out here more often than I’d like.”

That first inhale felt like heaven, the heat in your throat a familiar sensation and you held the thick smoke in your mouth as long as you could manage, finally blowing it out in a steady stream into the sky.

“Bad habit?” You asked, leaning against the metal railing that enclosed the small courtyard space. It was cool even through your trousers, grounding you back into the here and now.

“I have a lot of those, smoking is probably the least bothersome. I can go days without a single cigarette, or I could smoke two packets within a single office day. There never seems to be an in between,” he joked.

It was hard not to appraise him whilst you both stood there, enjoying your respective cigarettes. His shirt wasn’t quite the brilliant white of a new or well cared for garment, nor were the tailored creases in his trousers especially neat or crisp. The tie around his throat was loose as if restless fingers had tugged it that way, and his hair was equally as ruffled. Yet, there was still something undefinable that made you smile at these observations, that endeared him to you.

His eyes were adorned with dark circles from sleepless nights but there was a subtly vibrancy to those eyes. The brown irises with golden flecked in the right light and the smattering of laughter lines at the corners assured you that this was a man who liked to laugh, even if you were yet to hear it in the workplace.

He wore an equally tired smile, however, it brightened when you addressed him directly and you wondered if he thought hi would ignore his presence. If that was maybe what he was used to, and that thought didn’t sit well with you.

“Oh yeah? Let me guess… you enjoy a bottle of wine on most nights?”

“Or two,” he countered, making you laugh.

Honestly, you couldn’t understand why he was considered the black sheep of the firm. From everything you had seen and heard, he wasn’t the money grabbing type and maybe that was the reason for him being a pariah, but that wasn’t a reason to brush him off or avoid him outright.

“Y’know… people will talk if they see you chatting with me.” Higuruma crossed an arm over his chest, a defensive gesture if ever you saw one.

You hummed in thought. Not that you really cared what people had to say about you. “I think I can make my own decisions on who I should and should not speak with. Are you always this cautious?”

“Some might say I have no caution at all.”

“Then why are you trying to warn me off?”

Higuruma’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, a plume of smoke emitted from between his pursed lips to momentarily obscure his face. “Didn’t realise I was under cross-examination. You’ll go far,” he mused before crushing out the remnants of his smoke and bringing out a packet of mints from his pocket.

“I don’t know about that… this career isn’t exactly what I anticipated.”

He waited, sensing there was more you wanted to share, and he had no desire to scare you away or shut you down prematurely. You couldn’t put your finger on the reason why you wanted to confide in him, perhaps you felt some kind of kindred spirit in him but that would be foolish having known him all of five minutes.

“Higuruma, do you fancy a coffee? My treat,” you offered in a rush. Embarrassed by how nervous you were to ask at your big age, and more so worried that he would refuse you flat out.

“I’d like that, but there is something I’d like much more.”

You held your breath, not knowing what he could possibly wish for more. He chuckled at your look of concern, stepping forward to offer you a mint from his pack.

“I’d really like to know your name.”

[wanderingelvis]

Hi, I really loved your headcanons for how Elvis would talk about an innocent reader to his friends, and I was wondering if you could write an imagine or short fic going more in depth on the mafia guy's not-so-pure feelings for the reader?

I love this suggestion, I hope what I've written is okay - not been feeling the most confident in my work lately! 🧚

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Everything always manages to fly right over your pretty little head

Dirty jokes, condescending comments, telling looks

Even when someone has to sit you down and explain to you what's going on, sometimes you just still won't understand

Even though you try to understand, sometimes you'll nod along with wide eyes and those pouty lips, at everything that's being said just to try and seem like you're convincing someone, anyone

But it's what makes you utterly adorable to Elvis

And to the rest of the Memphis Mafia

You're so goddamn clueless and innocent that you instantly make anyone with a bit more knowledge than you feel special

You'll cling to them, ask them questions, listen to every word they have to say and try and understand it

And you'll make them feel like they're the most important person in the world to you at that moment

And goddamn, that's an addictive feeling for any man to feel

So it only made sense when Elvis moved you into Graceland with him and you became Elvis' little darling

And the Memphis Mafia's little darling by default

They're all infatuated with you in some way

And Elvis knows

He knows that he's got the prettiest, sweetest, most adorable little thing in the world

So he knows he ain't gonna be the only one to be blown away by you

There's a policy of "look but don't touch" when it comes to you

For no reason, other than your safety, should any of the Mafia try to get handsy with you

But oh boy, do they dream about it

They know better though, they know how possessive and protective Elvis is of you

"I catch any one of you fellas tryin' it on with my Y/N and I swear there'll be goddamn hell to pay."

Elvis tells them on afternoon

You never notice the stares from all of the men

Or the looks they exchange with each other whenever you twirl around or bend over slightly too much and your pretty little panties become exposed

And whilst as a collective, they intimidate many

How else did they get the name, 'Memphis Mafia'?

They don't intimidate you

No, in fact, you'll sit by Sonny all night during a poker game, having him explain the rules and help you with your hand

You'll ask him questions like he's the best poker player in the world all night

And he'll feel incredible because of it

You'll babble and babble at him with questions and he has to try and not laugh as he finds it just so endearing how clueless you are

But how totally determined you are to be able to play with all of the men

And when you play a great hand at the poker game because of Sonny's help, all of the big, old men will suddenly shower you with praise, making you blush and get all nervous and shy at the onslaught of attention

"Atta girl!"

Sonny will chuckle

And you giggle that angelic giggle and give Sonny a hug, thanking him for his help

Only for Sonny to be aware of the unspoken and invisible policy that hangs over your head and he catches Elvis' eye from across the poker table, and he's watching you and Sonny like a hawk

"Why don't you go show EP what you did, hey hon?"

Sonny will suggest, letting you run to Elvis who smiles warmly at you, and engulfs you in a cuddle

A cuddle that makes you feel practically giddy with delight as he effortlessly brings you onto his lap, holding your tummy with his strong arm, keeping you in place

"My clever girl."

Elvis coos in your ear as you sit in his lap, making you smile bashfully and squirm about

Many of the Mafia members watch Elvis' interactions with you and whilst they wouldn't admit it, they were jealous

So goddamn jealous

Wishing it was their laps that you would settle in

That it was the rings on their fingers that you'd absent-mindedly play with when the men were talkin' about things you couldn't understand

Wishing it was them that would end up taking you upstairs and undress you

That it would be them that you'd giggle to as they kissed your body all over

That it would be them that would fuck you endlessly and they'd hear your sweet little cries and moans all night long

Only for you to say thank you at the end

Because you're such a good girl

But it isn't them that gets to experience that, and it never will be

It's Elvis, it's always Elvis

He has your heart

But the members of the Memphis Mafia will settle for having even just a conversation with you

Because even if Elvis has you, at least they have their sinful thoughts of you

[neteyamslovrr]

KXANI - pt.1

summary: you have never fit in with the scientists, but on the night jake was lost in the forest so were you. staying with the people was your one true dream, yet when you are anything but welcome and jake get's to experience the people. you find yourself seeking comfort in tsu'tey

contents: 2.3k words, fem!avatar reader, set avatar 2009, kind of a prolouge, angst (only a lil)

authors note: i hope you guys enjoy this!! i'm really hyped to write a series especially my man tsu'tey. if this goes well definitely will be making a taglist so ask to be on it !!

all parts - next part

┌────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┐

It was all you had dreamed of since you landed on Pandora. To be with the people, to walk beside them. Well, behind them. You weren’t exactly welcome.

You still remembered the day you were chased through the forest with Jake, jumping into the waterfall on nothing but a will to live. You remembered Neytiri jumping in front of you, saving you both, you had never been more thankful and terrified of someone in your life.

You remembered how a group of men on direhorse threw ropes around your feet then continued to lead to the Hometree. It was surreal, to be with them. To live among them. But it wasn’t how you had hoped.

You hoped to meet with them, learn there culture and be able to retell your findings when you returned to your natural form. Yet, it was nothing like that.

It was because of Jake. He was the warrior of the ‘Jarhead’ clan. God, he was so intolerable but yet he was the one person who could understand your struggles of being with the people because he was right there beside you.

But with all you efforts over the years to learn about the Na’vi, it was nothing in comparison to him being tutored by Neytiri.

On the night when the Olo’eyktan decided to keep you both, it was rather a keep the man and his dog. They thought nothing of you, just another sky scientist. So, you weren’t entitled to Neytiri’s teachings, you were entitled to stare from far away and hope that maybe you could gain a bit of knowledge from observing the pair.

That’s what you were doing right now, crouching down hiding behind a lush shrub looking at the two talk to Tsu’tey as Jake sat in a puddle of mud. Maybe you weren’t missing out on too much?

Resting on the balls of your feet and long fingers keeping the bush apart you peered onto the ongoing scene. But Tsu’tey had disappeared. He must’ve gone off in a hurry, it wasn’t like he enjoyed the company of you two aliens anyway.

“You. What is wrong with you?”

“FUCK!” You jumped in fright falling to the ground looking up at an unimpressed Tsu’tey from above you. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest as you tried to regain your composure, shying away from the looming figure.

“Go home. You will not embarrass yourself like that there.” You desperately wanted to go back to your human form, but it wasn’t worth it. This, what you were experiencing was ground-breaking to your studies. Plus, Grace would skin you.

Pushing yourself off the ground, brushing the dirt off your grazed knee your stared up at him. How do you even respond to him? He was terrifying. Such a powerful figure it seemed stupid to stand up to him.

You were no Jake. You wouldn’t ridicule the future leader, and you were no ‘warrior’. You were truly just a useless being to them. Nothing to learn, nothing to gain.

“Tsa’hik has medicine for that. Go” You wished your feet would move. God, this is so embarrassing! Are you really paralysed in fear? Because of Tsu’tey. It’s laughable. You tried to move, but all you could do was stare into his unimpressed eyes and wish your link failed so you could escape this hellhole. “Are you ill?”

“No.”

“Then why are you not moving?” Sometimes you were grateful you learnt Na’vi so you could have more in depth and intellectual conversations with the people. This is not what you imagined your conversations would be.

“No. I am.” Tsu’tey scoffed at you. Fuck. What if you just died. Didn’t come back. Met Eywa and apologized for the inconvenience.

“You alien, should go. Fix whatever is wrong with you.” Yet he wasn’t leaving. You pleaded that he would leave in a huff, upset at stupidity. But he still stood there!

“I am afraid of you.” It was a meek whisper. Something you should never of said as your heart beated aggressively against your ribs as if it was trying to escape its chamber.

Tsu’tey let out the heartiest chuckle as he stared down at you. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. Oh how you wished your feet weren’t bolted into the ground. He was genuinely amused. This was easily the funniest thing that had happened to him recently. And it was definitely going to be a story he was going to retell later on.

“So are children alien. You are like a child.”

“Thankyou.” You sneered up at him, still too embarrassed to meet his harsh gaze.

“Do you know where Tsa’hik is?” He tilted his head, his long braid falling over his shoulder as he peered down at you.

“I do not.” You tried to shovel down the shakiness in your voice, you could definitely cry right now.

“Of course, you don’t. Because you don’t belong here. I will take you to Tsa’hik. I would do it for a child.” He motioned for you to follow him as he rode off towards the base of the Hometree. “Hurry up alien child!” He laughed at his jokes as he pointed to you as he looked at other Na’vi also giggling at you as well.

What the fuck is your video log going to be today. ‘Got made fun of! Great find!’ This sucked! While Jake is learning the way of the people, you’re the people’s newest comedy act. 

Dragging your feet to the Tsa’hiks room you were ushered to sit on a woven colourful mat in the middle of this section of the tree. Adorned in decorative items and many medicines and herbs you found yourself being stared down by Mo’at.

“She grazed her knee falling from a squatting height Tsa’hik.” Tsu’tey still managed to find a way to make fun of you even when he was talking to a superior.

Mo’at scoffed at you, mumbling something under her breath you did catch a few words. But they’re not necessarily for repeating. “How did you fall?” Mo’at’s intimidating voice caught you off-guard. You didn’t think she would speak to you directly.

“I- um. Tsu-. Tsu’tey startled me.” It was an insane struggled to get out, to admit you had a slightly serious graze because the man chuckling behind you scared you shitless.

“Ah.” She couldn’t find it in her to hide her disappointment apparently. Shaking her head, she applied a pungent medicine to your knee. Surprisingly, it didn’t sting the only sensation was that it was particularly cold for a paste that had been sitting in the open. “Maybe it is useful to do some stuff around the village. We do not welcome demons, especially not parasites.”

Parasite? That is what she thought of you. Oh, that’s just lovely. It felt like your stomach decided to go skydiving and take a miles high leap out of your body.

“Send her back. She is parasite, not needed.” Tsu’tey said this sentence in English. He needed you to understand it, it was his every intention to. It hurt for some reason. Well not some reason he had said something incredibly hurtful. But it was so deserved, so justifiable. Didn’t mean it wasn’t incredibly upsetting to hear.

“We cannot. Jake is an odd dreamwalker. A new demon. She must stay as he does, it is Eywa’s will.” He was silenced at the mention of Eywa. No one would question her intentions not even yourself. “She must learn. You will teach.”

“What?!” Tsu’tey voice boomed out echoing throughout the hollow tree. Is this how Jake felt that night? Because the taste of bile was growing in your throat as you stared at the huffing man. Nononono. He cannot teach, he’ll slit your throat the minute he has the chance.

“She will not be a hunter, no warrior. But she can learn the ways of the people. Teach her Tsu’tey do not question my decisions young one.”

“….yes Tsa’hik…”

Times like these you wished you could go back to your human form. So that your emotions wouldn’t be so easily understood with the swish of your tail and movement of your ears. Still sitting on the floor of the Tsa’hik’s area your ears were pressed against your head and tail swishing quite frequently.

“Go to the river to wash off the paste soon. It will stain your skin.” Mo’at told your before you were being harshly stared at by Tsu’tey. You were yet to understand the way Na’vi must telepathically communicate. It wasn’t even a millisecond after Mo’at finished that she had gave Tsu’tey the look to take you to the river.

You just wished you could understand those looks as well. “Come now. We walk.” He was so assertive it was frightening, the way he commanded you with a single order, you were so respectful of his place in the clan. It did make him like you slightly more than Jake.

“Do not kill her.” Mo’at said harshly to the tall man as you felt that bile rise to your throat again. Kill. What a word!

“I did not plan on it.” Tsu’tey smirked as he wandered off expecting you to follow but you didn’t. You just stared at Mo’at for reassurance. A simple nod to say ‘Yes! Big scary man won’t murder you!’ and she must’ve sensed your desperation.

Mo’at gave a curt nod and ushered for you to go with him with a flick of her hand. With the reassurance of the Tsa’hik you walked with Tsu’tey. Well, behind Tsu’tey to the river.

Every step was awkward. The past on your knee was starting to dry and made cracking noises every time you bent your knee. The crunch of the leaves under both of your heavy feet were the only conversation between the two of you. Eventually, after the short walk. Though it felt long due to the silence. Was finished at the sound of the flourishing waterfall meeting your ears.

It was so powerful, yet so beautiful. It reminded you of something. But nothing was coming to mind so you decided to just focus on the rushing sound as you ended your journey.

“Well done demon. You made it.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest, he thought he was hilarious.

“Thankyou.” You knew it wasn’t a compliment from him, but what else were you to say. Jake would of found a better comeback but you couldn’t.

“You are funny demon.” He said it so nonchalantly but to you it felt as if your heart bursts into a million butterflies. A compliment from a Na’vi felt so special, you felt slightly appreciated. And for it to be from Tsu’tey made it 100 times more meaningful considering how much distaste he has for you and Jake.

“Thankyou Tsu’tey.” Your genuine smile was one he had not seen yet. It was a new expression. Obviously, it looked familiar as it was on the body of a Na’vi but there was something so bright about your smile he couldn’t shake off. It was just something weird he assumed. Demons do weird things especially when they’re in bodies they’re not meant to be in.

“The paste must come off. Or else your knee will be yellow for weeks.” You nodded and hopped into the water. It was about knee height, so you had to bend to move the water over your knee completely.

“Is there a specific way to get it off. It is a foreign medicine to me.”

“It’s foreign because you don’t belong here.” Tsu’tey was just so harsh with his words, they were said with so much power, yet he felt sincere. It was odd. So odd. “Give me your leg.”

“What do you mean? HEY!” Tsu’tey had grabbed your injured leg yanking it into his arms making you twist and fumble trying not to go headfirst into the water.

His long fingers wrapped around your shin as he used his other hand to cup water into his hand and covering the yellow paste. Every time you fumbled trying to balance he let a ‘tsk’ leave his mouth. His fingertips felt as if they were being burnt into your skin as he gripped your leg tightly.

“Stop moving. I am getting the paste off.” He looked harshly into your eyes, his golden iris’ staring straight into your own.

“I’m trying!” it was an exacerbated statement. Tsu’tey saw the way your ears flicked down and you tensed all the muscles in your abdomen to try and stay still.

He felt a pound of his heart call out to him to not be so harsh. But why? You were nothing but a demon. A complacent one, but still a demon. You were better than Jake in his books. You listened stayed out of trouble, didn’t hang out with his future mate. But you were so odd. Nothing like any of the other demons. You were too complacent, too shy, too fearful. It was odd. Maybe that’s why his heart pounded.

With a final scrub the paste was gone and he let you leg down gently, an abrupt change to the quick and harsh picking up of your leg before. “Thankyou Tsu’tey.” He simply hummed in reply giving you a curt nod. This wave of confidence had overcome you. It was like you felt dizzy with courage. “Tsu’tey.”

The way you said his voice was weird to him. It was pronounced so clearly as if it was the only word you had learnt to say in his language. “Yes?”

“I know that..uh never mind.” The confidence vanished as soon as he stared into your eyes once again. His whole body facing towards you, his mind and soul focused on the words coming out of your mouth. It was too intimidating especially now as he waited for you to say more.

“Speak. What do you know?” His deep voice was memorizing, the way his chest rose proudly every word he spoke. He was so intriguing.

“I know that you don’t like me… and that I do not belong here. But I would like to help, I don’t want to be a p-parasite.” The word parasite stung on your tongue, and it was obvious how Tsu’tey winced at the word as well.

Truthfully, he regretted saying it so clearly to you. He only regretted when he saw the way your tail swished and the shine in your eyes. Maybe that’s why he felt crazy. Maybe that’s why he felt kind towards you. Maybe that’s why he agreed so fast.

“Only because you are smart, not stupid like Jakesully. I will teach you demon.” He reached out to grip onto your shoulder. It was a moment you don’t think you’d ever forget. The way his fingers held tightly onto you, his eyes looked so sincere and the usual scowl on his face had disappeared and turned in a stern look on promise.

This was the look of friendship, of teaching, you were about to learn the way of the people.

└────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┘

reblogs + replies so appreciated, i love you forever if you do yes i mean it i love you

[amalythea]

「 but does he really know me when the lights are on? 」

⤷ info: diluc & childe x gn!reader (separate) || angsty fic hehe || wc: 544 & 461 respectively

⤷ warnings: diluc n childe are a tad bit neglectful of their lovers bc theyre busy, mentions of childe's real name (does this even count as a warning), i tried to make this extra angsty as a treat for you guys <3

⤷ extra: i used the prompt i. “but does he really know me when the lights are on?” from @thexianzhoujade 's personal memoires (of the dearly beloved) event!! thank you so much to @mei-sm for proofreading!!

diluc.

As the owner of the renowned Dawn Winery, your lover's days were consumed by the meticulous tasks of wine-making and managing the estate. Diluc was a man of dedication, his every waking moment dedicated to upholding his family's legacy.

But amidst the clinking of glasses and the rustle of grapevines, there existed a longing within Diluc—a longing for companionship, for someone to share his burdens and his joys. It was in the quiet moments of the night, as he gazed out over the vineyards, that this longing weighed heaviest upon him.

Then, amidst the chaos of his busy life, you came into his world like a breath of fresh air. You who seemed to understand Diluc in a way no one else could. Your encounters were fleeting yet profound, each stolen moment leaving Diluc yearning for more.

Despite his limited time, Diluc cherished every second he spent with you. He memorized the curve of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight. In his mind, he constructed an image of you—a flawless portrait of a person he believed he knew inside and out.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Diluc's time grew ever scarcer. His duties at the winery demanded more of him, leaving little room for anything else. Yet, in the rare moments you shared, Diluc clung to the illusion of intimacy he had built in his mind.

One evening, as you sat together beneath the stars, your voice broke the silence. "Diluc," you said softly, your gaze searching his face, "do you truly believe you know me?"

Caught off guard by your question, Diluc faltered. "Of course, I do," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I know you better than anyone."

But your eyes held a sadness he had not seen before. "But do you?" you murmured, your words hanging heavy in the air. "Do you know the dreams I keep hidden in the depths of my heart? Do you know the fears that haunt me in the darkness of night?"

Diluc felt a pang of guilt deep within him. Despite his love for you, he realized that his knowledge of you was only surface-deep. He knew your smile, your laughter, your outward demeanor—but the depths of your soul remained a mystery to him.

In that moment, the realization hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Despite his best intentions, despite his unwavering devotion, he had failed to truly know the one he loved. And as he looked into your eyes, he saw the truth reflected back at him—the heartbreaking realization that your connection was built on a foundation of illusion.

Tears welled in your eyes as you rose to your feet, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things were different, Diluc," you whispered, your words heavy with sorrow. "But I fear that we are destined to remain strangers, even as lovers."

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Diluc alone beneath the stars, his heart heavy with regret. For in that moment, he knew that despite his best efforts, he had let the one he loved slip through his fingers, never truly knowing you as he had believed.

childe.

In the heart of Liyue Harbor, beneath the grandeur of the illuminated archways and amidst the bustling streets, Childe found himself entangled in the mess of his own making. The weight of his duties pressed upon him like a leaden cloak, consuming his days and nights in a relentless pursuit of power and influence. Amidst the political machinations and secret dealings, there was but one respite for him – the presence of his lover.

Your relationship was an affair hidden behind veils of secrecy and deception. Childe reveled in the moments stolen away from the prying eyes of the world, where he could lose himself in the warmth of your embrace. Yet, even in your most intimate moments, there lingered an unspoken question, a whisper of doubt that haunted your thoughts.

Despite his professed affection, Childe remained a stranger in many ways, his mind consumed by the ceaseless demands of his position within the Fatui. He spoke in riddles, his words veiled in ambiguity, leaving you to decipher the depths of his intentions.

As the nights grew longer and the shadows darker, you found peace in the silence between you, a quiet refuge from the chaos of your intertwined lives. But beneath the facade of understanding, doubts festered, like seeds sown in barren soil, their roots entwined with the fragile threads of your bond.

One night, as the city slept beneath a blanket of stars, your doubts could no longer be silenced. With tears glistening in your eyes, you uttered the words that had long lingered unspoken between the two of you.

"Do you truly know me, Ajax?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath upon the wind. "Or do you see only the shadows of who I am, cast by the light of your own desires?"

For a moment, Childe was speechless, the weight of your words bearing down upon him like a crushing weight. In the silence that followed, he searched your eyes for answers, but found only the reflection of his own uncertainty staring back at him.

"I... I thought I knew you," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But perhaps... perhaps I was mistaken."

With those words, the fragile bonds that held you together shattered like glass, leaving nothing but shards of regret in their wake. In the cold light of dawn, you turned away, leaving Childe to face the emptiness of his own solitude.

Alone amidst the ruins of your shattered love, Childe found himself haunted by the echoes of your parting words. In the depths of his heart, he knew that he had lost more than just a lover – he had lost a piece of himself, forever hidden in the shadows of what might have been.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[neerons]

Some of Clavis Lelouch’s best quotes + Cyran's bonus quotes

"Tell me, Emma, what do you think is the best way to wake someone who's really bad at waking up? (...) That's right, you stab them." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)

"Finding such a handsome man in your room is enough to leave anyone breathless. Take your time. I know I'm easy on the eyes. (...) Oh, nice reaction! There's nothing like a good AHHHHH to get me in the mood."

“I didn’t do anything. But next time, don’t be intimidated by these status-crazed nobles. You don’t owe them anything—not even a smile. If someone looks down on you, look down on them in return. Otherwise, your self-worth will start to plummet. Never abandon your self-respect just to calm the situation. I know you’re a wonderful person—I wouldn’t have chosen you as my wife if not.”

"You succumbed to delusion."

"You weren't paying any attention to me at all. I got so lonely, I almost died!"

"...I want to make love to you."

"I'll tell you a secret about Chevalier. You want to know right? I bet you do. (...) He likes romance novels, but the reason for that is... Me. (...) One day, I secretly added to his pile of books... I put a book that boasted its dewy, spicy romance in the pile."

"Haha! When you're as handsome as I am, you look good no matter what state you're in. You just need better understanding of aesthetics." (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")

"Haha! You don't need to apologize. Who says only kids are allowed to be bouncy? What's wrong with adults being genuine about loving the things they love?"

"Oh, the things you say! Don't you realize you threaten to unleash the beast that hides behind this gentleman's visage?" (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"What a fool I was to think I was done falling in love with you. The depths I could fall for you seem endless."

“We can do it on the table, or by the windowsill again, if you like. Ah, but I don’t recommend the floor—not unless you’re into that.”

"Wait, wait, wait! (...) Chevalier, you cannot possibly be trying to replace the words 'I love you' with that one kiss. (...) Why else would Emma have dressed up so beautifully? It's all so she can hear you say those three words! (...) Yes, not all things need to be said, but there is a purpose in giving words to feelings. That's how you can bring them into the real world. Chev, you can't let Emma guess how you truly feel forever. Just tell her. (...) The average person can't read minds like you do. Don't assume that Emma knows everything just because you do." (—Clavis to Chevalier, in Chevalier's route)

"I would never allow my lovely fiancee to live a life of fear. And so I must take it upon myself to indulge her in a life of joy." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"I'm charming, aren't I?"

"Here you are, alone in a secret room with a handsome prince. Why are you only interested in those lifeless husks? (...) That's a little offensive, you know."

"Haha! Go to hell." (—Clavis to Chevalier)

"Goodness, I've never visited that bookstore, and to think it was hiding a gem all this time..." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"Dear me, it looks like they started running the second they spotted me. Haha! That's optimistic of them. " (—Clavis talking about Yves and Licht to Emma)

"You could at least call it artistic. My handwriting conceals talent that would surpass that of a genius artist. (...) It's readable. So long as you take the time to decode it! Haha!" (—Clavis to Jin)

"Ah... Hahaha! I can't believe you headbutted me! You should've slapped me, at least."

"There's no rule that says you have to drink alcohol once you come of age. That said, it might be more romantic to let you get drunk and then take care of you until you sober up. Wait here, I'll just get some—"

"Of course, I'm not trying to criticize your own personal standards for good and evil. But throughout our lives, we're constantly being confronted by our perceptions of good and evil. And there are times when we might regret it later, if we decide to be critical of something simply because 'it's evil'. Our own individual standards for good and evil may not always be aligned with the kingdom's standards for good and evil. And if that happens, wouldn't you want to remain true to your own standards? To what you believe is good and right?"

"So you're comfortable drinking. I'll keep that in mind." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"(...) I'm well aware that of all the princes, I was the one most loved by his mother. Although I suppose it's not really a surprise, given how adorable and cute I was. (...) Haha! Why are you apologizing? There's no rule that says we can't talk about the deceased. And there's no need to feel guilty, either. I'm not some silly child who gets all worked up just from thinking about her." (—Clavis talking about his mother to Emma)

"I love drawing attention to myself, you know that. I wanted everyone in the palace talking about me, so I made it seem as if I'd gone missing." (—Clavis to Sariel)

"...You're surprisingly sweet on Emma, aren't you?" (—Clavis to Chevalier)

"Well obviously, because I like rabbits. And from what I know of rabbits... They may seem aloof, but they're actually very sweet and loving, and if you're lucky, they'll even let you see that side of them. I think they're adorable. And despite being delicate and easily frightened, they won't run from anything—they'll stand their ground and put on a brave face. I can't think of any other creature that instills in me such an urge to protect them. You see? Everything about them is lovable." (—Clavis talking about Emma secretly)

"But that's why Rhodolite is so well-balanced. If we all agreed with Leon, the kingdom would constantly be in danger from outside. If we all agreed with Chevalier, it would end up a dictatorship."

"You're about the only person who willingly visits the brutal beast's lair."

"Just so we're clear, this doesn't even count as a setback to me. I've tasted defeat countless times at the hands of a brother more beastly than anyone in Obsidian. I've never once made the right choice. I'm a loser, constantly making mistakes, and constantly being laughed at for them. (...) When you fail, it's easy to give up. It's easy to think your ideas are wrong, and yield to the right choice. But this is what I do. Every time I fail, I get up again, and I fight even harder, so that next time, maybe I won't fail. I don't care about what's right for the kingdom. I stay true to what's right for me, and that's the only way I've found any meaning in my life. Even if what I believe to be right and true is actually wrong, and even if I'm called evil and wicked for doing what I do... I'll fight against the brutal beast's methods with everything I have in me. And I'm not going to die until I've made him kneel before me, and accepted that my beliefs are just as righteous as his are. (...) And since I've spent my life tasting nothing but defeat, I think I can declare this with some certainty. So long as you go on living, you'll never really be a loser. Because there is no such thing. Even if you lost this time, you just have to win next time to be the winner. And if nothing else, you'd be able to die a prouder man than you will now. (...) Today's failures will lead you to tomorrow's hope. Always, as long as you don't give up. And that's why I'm going to get up and try again. What about you? Are you going to die a dog's death here?" (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")

"What a shame... Were my hands not bound right now... I'd already be making love to you."

"Haha! Not a chance. I adore her." (—Clavis denying disliking Emma to Gilbert)

Cyran's bonus quotes:

"(...) Prince Clavis lies incessantly, so feel free to ignore everything he says. (...) Everything. You've no need to be worried about his feelings, or even keep him company. And it might be in your best interests to refuse to eat any of this." (—Cyran talking about Clavis and his cooking to Emma, in front of Clavis)

"You're still half-asleep, aren't you? You're a disgrace." (—Cyran to Clavis)

"When we finally catch up to him, I think we should team up and give him a good scolding!" (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)

"Since you left me behind like that, I've decided to hold a grudge against you forever. (...) Do it again and I'll throttle you, master or no. Just so you know." (—Cyran to Clavis)

"My Lady, I'm afraid that Prince Clavis's plan is truly stupid. A prince in his right mind would never even plan such a thing, and the average person would recoil in shock at the very idea of it."

"Prince Clavis, you can't just go casually tossing your head in her lap like that. My Lady, you're more than welcome to slap him awake at this point."

"(...) despite all that, there was one fool prince who stormed into the camp where the prisoners were being held. Yep, I'm talking about the idiot prince currently sleeping like a babe in your lap."

"From the way he acts, it's easy to mistake him for a fool and a scoundrel, but... at heart, he's the kindest, most compassionate man I've ever met." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)

"...So where is he, this handsome man? (...) ...You're a total mess right now, you realize. You look dreadful. Want me to get you a mirror?" (—Cyran to Clavis)

"My Lady, I truly am sorry, but... I've been ordered to inform you that, and I quote, 'your prince is in grave danger and needs you to rescue him! Ahaha'! (...) ...He insisted I include the 'ahaha' at the end." (—Cyran delivering a message from Clavis to Emma)

"Very well. I'll inform him that you said to die in pain and agony." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Chevalier)

[adiraargent]

You drew stars around my scars - Slytherin Boys

summary: Slytherin boys (Taylor's Version) x Reader warnings: mentions of scars (not specified what from), swearing, smoking includes: Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Jasper Rowle, Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle - I will do a part 2 with other characters if anybody wants one :) wc: 2373 Part 2

Theodore Nott - Cardigan

Theodore Nott sat beside you on the edge of the bed, his gaze tender as he studied the scars that adorned your skin. You could feel his fingers tracing gentle patterns along the lines of your past, his touch feather-light as he navigated the landscape of your history.

As you looked up at him, a warmth swelled in your chest, but you couldn't help but worry. Worry that he was just use you, use you like others had done in the past. Tossing you away when they were done with you.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite

"Thank's for sticking around Theo," you murmerd softly, your cheeks flushing a pretty pink tone.

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "You are my favorite person in this shitty world," he murmured, his voice soft like the rustle of leaves in the wind, despite the crude words. "Every scar, every imperfection, only serves to make you more beautiful in my eyes."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, calming the storm of insecurities that raged within your soul. With Theodore by your side, you felt safe, protected from the harsh judgments of the world by the warmth of his love.

And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

People had always judged you for something, it was a judgemental world that you lived in. Maybe someone judged you for your skin, or your scars... or maybe just the way that you wore your hair. Maybe it was your weight or your height. Nobody was perfect... thought Theodore Nott would beg to differ, in his eyes you were the embodiment of perfection.

And of course, people judged you for being with Theodore Nott, a Slytherin boy with a troubled past. One that liked to smoke and drink, that liked to get into fights and argue with teachers and students alike. But you were in love. 'Love?' they'd ask you and laugh. 'You're so young, what the hell would you know about love?'

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

Theodore's fingers stilled against your skin, his eyes searching yours with a depth of understanding that left you breathless. "I may not have all the answers," he said softly, "but I promise to stand by your side through every uncertainty, to hold you close and chase away the shadows of doubt that threaten to consume you."

And as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss against each scar, his lips a tender caress against your skin, you felt a sense of peace settle over you like a warm embrace. With Theodore, you knew that you were never alone, that no matter what trials and tribulations lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, heart in heart.

For in his touch, you found solace and strength, a reminder that love had the power to heal even the deepest wounds. And as he traced stars around your scars with his fingers, you knew that no matter how dark the night may seem, the light of his love would guide you safely home.

Okay but i'm really happy with this icl

Mattheo Riddle - Mine

And I remember that fight, 2:30 AM As everything was slipping right out of our hands

As the moon hung high in the sky, casting its silvery light over the darkened landscape, you quietly snuck out of your shared home , your heart heavy with doubt and fear. Tears streamed down your face unchecked as you clutched your suitcase tightly, the weight of your decision bearing down on you like a heavy burden.

You had always struggled with trust issues and abandonment fears, scars from a childhood marred by betrayal and heartache. And now, faced with the prospect of being completely in love with a boy who had been nothing but good to you, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all.

Mattheo Riddle, that cocky, short-tempered Slytherin, had become the center of your world, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume you. You got together in your second last year of school and were still together now a year after graduating. And yet, the thought of allowing yourself to fall completely and unconditionally in love with him terrified you to your core. You loved him, you knew that you did... but did love really exist? Falling in love was dangerous, it was setting yourself up to get your heart broken.

"I'll never leave you alone," his voice echoed in your mind, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of your thoughts. You had been sitting at the Black lake, the two of you had been together for 3 months and it was the first time you had told each other 'I love you'

But as much as you longed to believe his words, the scars of your past lingered like a shadow, a constant reminder of the pain and suffering you had endured. Even after all this time, you still had doubts. And so, with a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, you made the decision to leave, to distance yourself from the one person who had come to mean everything to you.

I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street Braced myself for the goodbye 'Cause that's all I've ever known

Bracing yourself for the goodbye, you took a hesitant step forward, the weight of your suitcase dragging behind you like an anchor. But before you could take another step, a voice called out to you from behind, stopping you dead in your tracks.

Turning around, you saw Mattheo running towards you, his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "I won't let you go," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I'll never leave you alone, I promise."

And in that moment, as he took you in his arms and held you close, you felt a sense of peace wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. For in Mattheo's embrace, you found solace and strength, a reminder that love had the power to heal even the deepest wounds.

I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter

"I promise I will do everything to prove I am nothing like he was," he whispered against your ear, his words a testament to the depth of his love and devotion. "You're the best thing that's ever been mine."

And as you looked into his eyes, filled with love and sincerity, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, heart in heart. For in Mattheo Riddle, you had found a love worth fighting for, a love that would stand the test of time.

Jasper Rowle

As you and Jasper Rwle walked hand in hand through the winding streets of Diagon Alley, a sense of contentment settled over you like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. His hand in yours felt like home, grounding you in the present moment and reassuring you. You felt so safe with him, the way he softly rubbed your hand with his thumb sent warmth through your body, the heat being a stark contrast to the snow falling around you

"Can I go where you go?" you whispered, your voice barely above a hushed murmur as you gazed up at him with adoration shining in your eyes. You didn't mean to say it out loud. But you just wanted to be with him as much as possible, the way you felt when you were around him was unlike anything you had felt before.

You felt alive, wanted... loved.

Jasper's lips curved into a tender smile, his eyes sparkling with love and affection. "Forever and ever," he replied, his voice a soft melody in the air. "You and me, always."

And as you walked together, lost in the beauty of the moment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore.

Take me out, and take me home

He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss against your skin, "c'mon, lets get to the three broomsticks then I'll take you back, its not good for you to be out in the snow for too long, I don't want you to get sick.

You're my, my, my, my Lover.

"Okay my love," you replied with a smile, letting him pull you along in the direction of the pub.

Jasper's grip on your hand tightened, as though afraid to let go, as though afraid that this perfect moment would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. "You're so gorgous," he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. "i adore you."

And as you walked together, lost in the maze of streets and alleys, you knew that no matter where life may take you, you would always find your way back to each other.

Draco Malfoy - getaway car

No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the sprawling grounds of Malfoy Manor as Draco Malfoy and you sat together on his expensive broomstick. It was a moment suspended in time, a brief respite from the chaos and turmoil of the world outside.

As you gazed out at the rolling hills before you, Draco's hand found yours, his touch gentle and reassuring. But beneath the facade of tranquility, there was an undercurrent of tension, a sense of unease that lingered in the air like a shadow.

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes

You knew Draco was a death eater now, knew he had done bad things and helped bad people but you couldn't bring yourself to leave him. You loved him, and whenever you thought about the bad things he had done, your heart was quick to remind you of all the good times you had together.

All the late night talks, the joking around, the kissing and holding... everything.

But as the miles stretched out before you, you couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it.

I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason "X" marks the spot where we fell apart He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself

You fought to held back tears, the two of you were now on the run and now because of him, you were leaving all your friends and family behind. You were a traitor now and it was all his fault.

Draco's grip tightened around the broom handle, his gaze distant as he stared out at the sky ahead. "I knew it from the start," he admitted, his voice tinged with sorrow. "We were cursed."

You were drivin' the getaway car We were flyin', but we'd never get far

You new the order would be after you soon, they knew what Draco had done. You wrapped your arms around him tighter, burying your head into his back as you held onto him, scared of falling.

Ridin' in a getaway car There were sirens in the beat of your heart

And as you flew on into the night, the sirens in the beat of your heart seemed to grow louder, a relentless reminder of the consequences of your actions. You should have known that you'd never leave, that the promise of freedom would come at a steep price, one that you weren't willing to pay if it meant leaving Draco.

So still, you clung to each other, two lost souls adrift in a sea of chaos and uncertainty. For in each other's arms, you found solace and strength, a beacon of hope in a world gone mad.

And as the stars twinkled overhead and the world blurred past, you knew that no matter where the road may lead, you'd never leave him

We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde (oh-oh)

Tom Riddle - right where you left me

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "What a sad sight"

Under the soft glow of the restaurant lights, you found yourself seated alone at a corner table, the memories of your past love weighing heavily on your heart. Friends had come and gone, relationships had blossomed and withered away, but you remained rooted in the past, unable to move forward.

Your eyes kept flicking up to the empty chair in front of you, your plate of food going cold as it sat in front of you completely untouched. The workers looked over, eyes filling with sympathy and sadness at the all-familiar face they had seen too many times, brief flashes of the happy couple that had once sat there.

Everybody moved on I, I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, the echoes of the past danced around you like ghosts in the night. You remembered the first time you had met, the way his smile had lit up the room and warmed your heart. But now, all that remained were distant memories, fragments of a love that had once been.

You couldn't help but wonder if he ever thought about you, if he ever regretted the choices he had made. Did he know that you were still waiting for him, still hoping for a second chance at love? Or had he moved on, leaving you behind like a forgotten relic of the past?

Right where you left me You left me no, oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever You left me, you left me no, oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever

The restaurant buzzed with life around you, the sounds of laughter and conversation blending together in a cacophony of noise. But amidst the chaos, you felt alone, a solitary figure adrift in a sea of strangers.

And as you sat there, watching the world pass you by, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. You longed for the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his presence, but you knew deep down that he was gone, lost to you forever.

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

Yet, despite the ache in your heart and the tears in your eyes, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. You were stuck in the past, trapped in a cycle of longing and regret, unable to move forward without him by your side.

But as the night wore on and the restaurant began to empty out, you knew that you couldn't stay there forever. It was time to let go of the past and embrace the future, to find happiness within yourself and move on from the love that had once consumed you.

With a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, you rose from your seat and made your way towards the door. And as you stepped out into the cool night air, you made a silent vow to yourself to never look back, to keep moving forward no matter how difficult the journey may be.

If our love died young, I can't bear witness And it's been so long But if you ever think you got it wrong I'm right where you left me

But it was a vow you knew you'd break just for him.

written by @adiraargent

Please do not steal or post anywhere else <3

Requests are open!!!

Bye for now