#and just be nice and normal to each other

[wosospacegirl]

Mallorca- Alexia Putellas

Summary: Alexia ruins your couple's vacation by inviting the girls to tag along with you. You decide to make her pay for it.

Word count: 2.5k

Warning: (+18) a little bit of smut, suggestive; fingering (r giving)

A/n: because I'm a whore

..

You were going on a vacation to Mallorca with Alexia.

She had promised she would take care of everything: the hotel, the flights, the yacht, everything. 

She told you not to worry about a single thing. So you absolutely didn't. 

You just made sure to stay pretty, to pack the smallest bikini you had, to pack the strap, the lube, and the handcuffs into your bag.

Alexia had grinned while watching you pack. She came from behind, biting your earlobe and promising she would worship you every day of the vacation.

That she would put you in so many positions you wouldn't even remember all of them.

She said she would eat you out on the private beach she had booked.

That she would finger you in the middle of the ocean, have your mouth wrapped around her strap on the sun deck of the yacht.

You trusted Alexia deeply. So you thought she would keep her word.

Your face fell flat the second you arrived at the airport with her and saw not only Patri and Ona, but Jana and Bruna there too, suitcases in their hands and bright smiles on their faces.

You couldn't help but feel confused by the coincidence. 

They were travelling too? To Mallorca? Wow. Small world, right?

You were hesitant as you greeted the girls, but you did your best to be nice. They were, after all, your and Alexia's friends.

"I'm so excited!" Jana said as the little group made their way toward the flight. "It's been so long since I had a vacation."

Alexia's hand was on your back, but she was weirdly quiet. Too quiet.

"Oh yeah," you said, watching Alexia out of the corner of your eye. "You guys totally deserve this vacation. The season was really hard."

"Definitely," Patri said, smiling at you, the sound of her suitcase wheels somehow managing to irritate you. "I can't remember the last time we had a vacation with all of us together!"

You stopped in your tracks. Alexia bumped into you, her hand catching your waist so you wouldn't fall.

"Ay, amor," she said grumpily. "Qué fue?" [Love, what's wrong?]

"What do you mean… 'all of us together', Patri?" you asked in a very calm voice, very deliberate.

"Umm…" Patri looked at Alexia, then back at you.

"Us? Like me, you, Alexia, and the girls? We were so happy when Alexia called and asked us to tag along, it's hard only seeing each other at training…we need some quality time together as a team"

Quality time together as a team?!

Your world shattered right in front of you. 

You always thought people were being dramatic when they said they saw red when they were angry.

But you were definitely seeing red now, maybe because the capillaries in your eyes were expanding as your heart started hammering against your chest.

You felt your nails digging into your skin as you turned to Alexia.

"I think I'll go to the bathroom before we board," you said, not looking at anyone as you left your suitcase behind and walked off. You didn't even know where the bathroom was, you just…walked.

You just knew you needed to be alone, or else you would scream at Alexia in the middle of a crowded airport, and you didn't want to make a scene.

Alexia clearly didn't realise that you wanted to be alone for her own well-being, because she followed you like a puppy.

"Amor…espera, por favor," she said, walking after you. [love, wait, please]

If it were you, you would be out of breath by now, but because Alexia was annoyingly fit, her breathing and tone were perfectly normal.

She also caught up faster than you would have liked, her hand wrapping around your wrist as she pulled you into some corner of the airport.

You were alone now, but it felt like the room was crowded because the air was thick.

It was hard to breathe, like your lungs were collapsing. You often felt that when you held your anger in. It hurt your chest.

So you decided to snap, finally.

"What is your problem?" you asked, furious.

Alexia didn't even try to defend herself. Guilt was scattered all over her face as she leaned her back against the wall, her hands were still holding your wrists.

You didn't like being restrained (not like that), so you tried to set yourself free, but she didn't budge.

"You said it was an us vacation. As in, you and me, not you and your teammatmes."

"Lo siento…" she said, pouting in a way that made you want to bite her lips off (not romantically). [I'm sorry]

"I asked Patri for a cool hotel to stay in, and she asked why, and I told her we wanted to go on a vacation," she explained, as you kept trying to set yourself free.

"Then she said she and the girls were also planning a vacation there, and she looked so excited, and I didn't have the heart to tell her not to join us."

You didn't bother to answer Alexia.

In the end, you walked back to where the girls were still standing, waiting for you and Alexia to return. If they noticed anything weird between the two of you, they didn't say a word.

The flight was annoying.

Nothing bad happened.

There wasn't a crying infant. No kid was kicking your seat, and the food was actually good. But you were still so mad that you couldn't see anything good about it.

Alexia kept quiet–she was smart when she wanted to be.

She did, however, try to keep her hand on your thigh for most of the flight.

Every time she did, you would take it off and place it back in her own lap without saying a word. Without giving her any sort of attention.

When you got to Mallorca, you were still silent.

You only spoke to the other girls, asking Jana how she was doing, asking Bruna how her season in London was.

You didn't even bother to grab your suitcase or any of the other bags.

Alexia walked behind you like a camel, slower than everyone else, because she was carrying all the weight, but you didn't care.

Alexia had ruined your vacation, and you were going to make her pay for it.

Day One.

You arrived at the hotel. And of course, there were problems with Jana and Bruna's room.

In the end, Jana had to share the room with you and Alexia for the night while the staff sorted it out.

The lights were already off. Alexia was lying on the left side of the bed, and you were on the right.

You made sure to build a pillow wall between you (to Alexia's disappointment) to create some distance. 

At one point, Alexia tried to sneak a hand onto your waist, but again, you gave it a little snap, and she retreated to her side of the bed with a quiet whine only you could hear.

Jana was curled up on the loveseat on the other side of the room, wrapped in a duvet.

Even in the dark, you could see the guilt written all over her face.

"I am so, so sorry," she said, her voice slightly muffled by her pillow. "I told the staff I could sleep in the lobby, but they said they couldn't allow it."

"It's okay, Jana, don't worry about it," you said, closing your eyes, trying to forget this whole trip was happening.

You should have listened to your sister. You should have gone on a family vacation. At least then, you wouldn't have created so many sexual expectations that were clearly not going to happen.

Now that it was night and you couldn't distract yourself anymore, you realised you weren't just annoyed.

You were sexually deprived.

You hadn't had sex with Alexia in two fucking weeks because of her stupid football calendar.

You had had to make do with your hand most nights, and it absolutely wasn't the same.

Now you were stuck on an island with Alexia and her teammates, and one of them was literally sleeping in your room.

You were just a girl with needs!! It was only fair that you felt this way.

The room was silent for a while, and you thought you might finally be able to sleep.

You even prayed that you would have a sex dream… Maybe then, you would get to experience some kind of sexual activity on this supposed vacation.

But apparently, Jana was not done making her point.

"But really," Jana continued, "I'm very sorry. If I knew the bugs in my room's mattress would mean I would be intruding on your and Alexia's privacy, I would have just slept there."

"With the bugs?" you asked, a bit grossed out by the idea.

"Yes," Jana replied seriously, as if she were ready to make that sacrifice. "I'm so, so–"

"Jana," Alexia said sternly, "shut up, please."

You felt yourself getting wet at Alexia's tone.

You liked it when she was stern. You liked it a lot. Although, of course, you weren't going to say it.

Day 2

You were at the hotel's pool.

Alexia was lying on the sun chair beside you.

She looked so incredibly delicious in her orange bikini that you wanted to put your mouth on every inch of her body.

You wanted a taste of her, and by the way she was looking at you, she wanted it too.

You watched as Bruna, Ona, Jana, and Patri played some kind of pool game; they were splashing water around and laughing like little kids.

That was when you felt Alexia's hand slide onto your waist.

In one swift motion, she pulled you into her chair, your was back pressing against her chest as she peppered your neck with light kisses.

It was intimate but not scandalous.

"Estás tan guapa," Alexia murmured in a low voice. "Muy, muy guapa." [You look so pretty/very, very pretty]

You hummed, tilting your neck to the left to give her more space. You felt her grinning against your skin.

"Fui una idiota por invitar a las chicas," she added. "Lo siento por eso." [I was an idiot for inviting the girls/I'm sorry for that]

You wanted Alexia so much.

There was nothing you wanted more than to grab her hand, drag her back to your shared hotel room (thankfully, the staff had fixed Jana's room situation that morning), and finally get Alexia all to yourself.

But no.

You couldn't get her off that easily.

As if Alexia were just an annoying little bug on your neck, you stood up suddenly, pulling her hands off your body. And, without a word, you threw yourself into the pool, completely ignoring her.

Alexia stayed behind in the sun chair, looking confused, but you didn't care.

You swam straight toward the girls.

"Are you guys playing Marco Polo?" you asked, wiping water from your cheeks. "I wanna play too."

..

You all decided to go out and eat at one of those restaurants on the beach. 

You and Alexia got ready without saying a word. Well, Alexia tried to talk to you. You just weren't the one responding.

You were putting blush on when Alexia apologised for the ninth time that day.

"I'm sorry, bebé," she practically whined, which was a great contrast to the way she looked.

She was wearing a long, white dress, and her hair was in a bun. She looked deliciously mature.

"I'm not talking to you," you said, not even glancing at her reflection in the mirror as you continued to do your makeup.

"But it's our vacation," Alexia said. "You can't be mad at me forever."

"Not forever," you replied, putting on some red lipstick. "I'll be mad for the number of days I find necessary."

Alexia went quiet again, and you continued to get ready.

You put on your earrings, then your necklaces.

You were too preoccupied checking if your dress matched your silver accessories to realise Alexia had once again pressed herself to your back.

"Me gusta cuando te pones así, tan brava," Alexia whispered, her lips brushing soft kisses along your jaw. "Me pone tan mojada." [I like when you get mad/It makes me wet]

She took your hand and slipped it under her dress.

Your breath hitched when you felt the warmth of her inner thighs, and then she lifted your hand even higher, until you were cupping her cunt.

Her bare, very wet and very warm cunt.

"Te quiero tanto ahora, amor," Alexia said, pushing your hand further inside until your fingers were inside of her. [I want you so much right now, love]

You slid one finger in, then another.

You wanted to pull away (no, not really), but you couldn't take your eyes away from the mirror; you couldn't look away from the way Alexia's face was filled with pleasure behind you, as if she needed this.

Maybe she wasn't the only one who was sexually frustrated out of the two of you.

You started moving your fingers deeper each time, reading her expression to know what she needed.

If the frown between her brows tightened, then you would slow down, but if her mouth fell open, you would push in deeper.

You angled your fingers slightly, hitting that spot inside her that made her hips stutter, that made her sound a little less dominant, a little more dumb, a little more helpless.

"Por favor…" she murmured, her lips brushing the back of your neck. "Lo necesito…" [Please/I need it]

"I'll get you to the edge," you promised her, "but you're not gonna cum. Not tonight."

"No," Alexia shook her head as you pushed your fingers harder. "No, por favor…"

"Shhh," you whispered. "Enjoy it, baby."

Whenever you felt Alexia contract around you, you'd pull your fingers away, taking them to your mouth.

You would lick them clean, tasting her sweetness, then you would slide them right back inside her.

You edged her more times than you could count. You even felt a little sorry for her.

When her makeup was a complete mess on her face, and when tears began falling from her eyes, you finally decided to put a (partial) end to her misery :)

You pulled your fingers away completely without a warning. Alexia whined, but you didn't put them back this time.

You let Alexia lean against your back. Her thighs were still shaking.

You turned around and kissed her face, her cheeks, her jaw, her lips.

"Later," you promised. "We'll go to dinner, you'll behave, then we'll come back to this hotel and you're gonna fuck me with the strap until I drench the sheets, okay?" You took her jaw into your hands, making eyes contact with her.

"Yo–amor!" she breathed, eyes fluttering closed. "I need to cum."

"And then I'm gonna fuck you so good I'll have you squirting all over me. How does that sound?" 

Alexia looked at you with those soft hazel eyes.

"Sounds great, mi vida," She said, sounding a little dizzy. "Anything you want."

..

Tag list: @footy-lover264 , @fortifyde, @naomigirmadefender , @neutraiise , @milkveed, @browercc , @ace-of-baked , @ikzzzya , @sky-the-trans-guy00 , @knight-16 , @wosohk04 , @evaissleepy13 , @papimapileon , @unpoppablebubbles @whiskeredshrimp-blog @goodloe-e @liloandstitchstan @s0ciety-cxv @dfwspky @karmajn @awosofavs @wosofavfanfics

A/n: 😝😝😝😝😝😝

[plutoslastwords]

Girl I need a lazy day with baby Norris and lando, maybe he’s not well or come home from a triple header (or both 🫢 who said that) and they’re just completely knackered

I’m so happy you’re back!

r and rs

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: after an intense triple header, all lando wants to do is relax with his sweet girl

w/c: 1.1k

warnings: none!

a/n: sorry this is bad :( still getting back into the swing of writing!

~~~

A race weekend on its own was tough enough. 4 days of presenting to the public eye, masking any other emotions, with the added fact that you have to drive at 200 mph a couple of times. Then, triple this, three weekends in a row of complete exhaustion, there you have a Formula 1 triple header. 

For Lando, as much as he loves driving, it has been his dream for as long as he could remember, he probably couldn’t think of anything worse than a triple header. He craves time to decompress after each race, without being thrown headfirst into the next one. 

It’s not made much easier that towards the end of this European triple header he’s managed to pick up some sort of bug. Nothing serious, he’d probably put it off to a slight tickly throat if this were a normal day, but the gruelling task of a triple header has managed to accentuate it by about 800 times. By the time he finally arrives home from Spain, Lando feels like he’s knocking on death’s door itself. 

Whilst he races, you spend your time with your grandparents, or sometimes a babysitter. Since you’ve turned 2, you’ve been going to a playgroup 3 times a week, although Lando was hesitant to let you go, kicking up a storm about how fast you were growing up, he knew it was important for your social skills and education. Having been meeting new, important, motorsports people since you had left the womb, you were one of the most sociable children out there, so playgroup was your most favourite thing. 

However, the last three weeks without your daddy had started to take a bit of a toll on you. Everyone in the playgroup was telling you stories about what they had done with their mom’s and dad’s when they went home, and even though your babysitter was very nice, you couldn’t help but feel left out, detached from the rest of your friends. 

So, when Lando finally got home, you wanted to do nothing more than to cling to him and not let go for at least 2-3 business days. 

You had just come home from playgroup when the familiar unlocking of the front door filled the apartment.

“Hi baby!”

You squealed, departing from your toys without a second thought, practically throwing yourself into his arms. “Daddy!!!” you cheer, as he picks you up with ease, placing kisses onto your face and the tip of your head. 

“Hi my love…” he mumbles tiredly into the top of your head, “Daddy missed you so much..”

“I missed you too…” you reply, your face shoved into the crook of his neck, clinging onto him so tightly that he probably should be worried about his circulation being cut off, but with you finally back in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Daddy’s gotta go unpack and take a shower, and then we’ll play angel, okay?”

You reluctantly agree, going back to playing with your dolls - who were currently in the middle of a very important tea party.

A few minutes later Lando reemerges from his bedroom, bidding your babysitter goodbye and thank you, before scooping you up from the floor, back into his arms and kissing the top of your head. 

“Daddy missed you so so much…” he coos, settling down onto the couch, the weariness that has been accumulating over the last few weeks finally encompassing him. “You wanna play with your dolls, angel?”

You shake your head, you didn’t want your dolls stealing your time with your daddy from you, you just wanted to be with him. 

“Okay.. that’s okay baby… that’s good, we can just have some rest together, yeah? You wanna watch something on TV?”

“Bluey…”

“Good idea, angel, let's watch some Bluey..”

He grabs a nearby blanket, pulling it over the top of both of you, holding you close, like if he were to let go you were going to disappear. 

The two of you spend a good couple of hours just mindlessly sitting on the couch watching TV. Lando knows that he should be doing something more productive, looking at data, looking at emails, training, but at this moment there is nothing that he’d rather be doing than sitting with you and purely relaxing.  

Dinnertime eventually comes around, but neither of you seem to notice, or you do, and just can’t be bothered to get up from the comfortable couch that has seemed to melt around you. It takes a text from his trainer, reminding him on what he should be eating for dinner, to prompt Lando to remember that he does need to feed you, no matter how comfortable you are.

“We should get some dinner, baby…” he yawns, combing a few strands of your hair out from your face.

You whine in response, half asleep, burying your face into his chest, “‘M not hungry, wanna go sleep”

“I know, baby, Daddy’s tired too… but we gotta have something to eat before bedtime, okay? We can’t have you going hungry. What would you like, my darling?”

“Mmm, pizza..”

“Pizza? Why don’t we order in, baby? Hm? Then we could eat here on the couch, that’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”

You nod, still snuggled up in his arms, having no intention of moving anytime soon, pizza on the couch did sound good, “Cheese, please..”

“Of course, angel”

Dinner was not a fancy affair, the two of you stayed right where you were, eating from takeaway pizza boxes with Lando wiping your face to get all the tomato sauce off every couple of minutes. Dinner was nothing posh, but to Lando it was perfect.

Once all of the pizza has been hoovered away, not much movement is seen, the two of you too tired to make an effort to move and get to bed. 

“Missed you so much when I was racing…”

“I missed you, daddy, all my friends had their daddies at home, why didn’t their daddies have to go racing…?”

Lando’s heart breaks, “Not everyone is a racing driver, baby, their daddies jobs are probably here in Monaco..”

“Oh. Well then I think that they should be jealous of me. I love having a racing driver daddy.”

He laughs, he loves you more than anything he could imagine, “And your racing driver daddy loves you, baby, more than anything, okay?”

It’s probably a bad parenting move, and Lando knows that he should be more responsible, but he’s too tired to get up, and he can see that you’re the same. So that night, the two of you fall asleep wrapped up together, on the couch with your pizza boxes surrounding you, but so very peaceful. 

~~~

a/n: tysm for requesting! requests are always open x

[7arami]

Adding on to Tawky Tawny being Billy's giant pet tiger, Damian would totally be jealous. Like absolutely filled with envy.

He's heard reports of a giant tiger just strolling through Fawcett and needs to have it. When he goes to Fawcett for a little investigating, he gets more or less the same responses from people: "Ohhhh you mean Tawky! Yeah, that's Billy's tiger!"

Damian instantly tracks this Billy, he refuses to acknowledge his last name, and demands to see the tiger. Billy, who is very confused and slightly scared, explains that he can't show him because he doesn't know where Tawky is. This ticks Damian off, cause how can you not keep track of a giant tiger. And Billy has to explain to him that Tawky just comes and gos as he pleases, he doesn't have control over him and he wouldn't want to either, because that wouldn't be very nice.

Damian refuses to leave until he meets Tawky. Which irritates Billy because he's got work to do, both normal civilian work and superhero work. He does his best to lose the kid, but the peace doesn't last long before Damian drops down in front of him. Billy is starting to wonder if this kid put a tracker on him.

It gets closer to the end of the day and Billy's frustration is on the brink of boiling over. He just wants to get back to his apartment and curl up next to Tawky. However, Damian is still following him.

Billy: Don't you have a family and home you should be getting back to. Damian: Tt' like your one to talk, we've been running around this whole city all day. And by the looks of it, I don't think you've got a home to get to either.** Billy: *face becoming all screwed up and red* Bet your parents are relieved you're not home, finally some peace and quiet without an evil brat like you around. Damian: *fists beginning to clench at his sides and glaring angrily at Billy* I am willing to say the same about "your" tiger. He hasn't shown all day, seems like he's taking a much needed break away from you! Billy: Then why are you still here! If you think Tawky is avoiding me, then I should be the last person to bother! **Damian didn't mean to come off as rude, he was concerned just didn't know how to express it. And Billy spoke out of defensiveness.

The argument continues to escalate to the point both boys are grappling with each other on the ground. They are interrupted by something pulling Billy away from Damian. Tawky stands over Damian with Billy held in his mouth by the boy's red sweater.

Tawky licks both the boys faces and hands, healing the scratches and bruises that they had inflicted on one another. They sit there on the side walk, it's night and the street is mostly desolate besides a few cars that drive by every now and then. Tawky curls around the two of the, forcing them to sit against one another.

Finally Damian breaks the silence, apologizing for what he said and for following Billy around all day. Billy forgives him and apologizes as well for what he said.

Billy: *slightly turning his head towards Damian* I'm sorry for calling you 'an evil brat', I don't actually think that. Damian: *huffs and continues to look straight ahead at the road* Not like you know me enough to come to that conclusion. Billy: *turning his head more towards Damian now* You don't think your a bad person, do you? 'Cause your not. Damian: *his eyebrows pinch together as he glares at the floor* Of course not, I have more pride than that! *voice becomes slightly softer* It's just that you don't know me enough to believe otherwise. Billy: *leans back into Tawky more, now looking straight ahead as well* I know that Tawny doesn't behave like this with bad people. And I trust his instincts.

Damian doesn't saying anything after that and neither does Billy. They sit their for a while, relaxing against Tawky Tawny's warm, soft body. Eventually a fancy car stops in front of them. Instinctually, Billy grabs Damian's arm and goes to book it. Only to be stopped by Damian who tells him its alright. Hesitantly, Billy lets go of Damian and watch as the window lowers to reveal an old man in a suit and a much younger man wearing much more casual clothes.

Dick: *sticking half his body out the window, with a clearly concerned expression on his face* Dami! Oh my God! We've been looking all over for you bud! What are you doing here? *looks behind Damian and a little boy and giant tiger* . . . actually, never mind. I think I just answered my own question. Damian: *arms crossed and rolling his eyes* Cease your needless worry, I have everything under control. Dick: *eyes hopping from Damian, Billy, and Tawky very quickly* Look, Dami, I'm very happy that your making friends, but let's be more careful. *speaking in a quieter tone* This is cap's terf, and we need to respect that. Damian: Tt' Oh please, I didn't see the walking light bulb at all today. Billy frowns at that, Damian didn't see him because he was stopping Billy from doing his job. Billy's just lucky that nothing really happened, though he is sad he couldn't help his community out more. Billy: You probably didn't seem him cause you were too busy stalking me! Dick: *glares down at his little brother, Alfred can be heard huffing a laugh behind him* Damian! Damian: *face beginning to redden* I was not stalking you! I was looking for Tawny and you just happened to be my best lead! Dick: *groans with his head in his hands* Dami, please, this is not how you make friends. Damian: *face becoming even redder* He is not my friend! Billy: *pouting a bit* hey Alfred: *a small smile on his face* Well Master Damian, would your 'not-friend' like a ride home? Billy: No! Damian: Yes. Billy: *looking at Damian with a shocked face, then back at Alfred* No, it's alright, for real! I have Tawky to walk me home, so I'll be more than fine! Damian: He left. Billy: *turns to look behind him and is met with an empty sidewalk* Goddammit! *looks up to the sky and screams* TRAITOR!

Billy, reluctantly, let's them drop him off in front of Freddy's house. It's gonna take longer for him to walk to his apartment, but it should be able to fool them. As long as Damian doesn't say anything, which he's not willing to bet on.

Finally they drive off and Billy makes his way back to his apartment where he finds Tawky curled up on his mattress. Too tired to even be upset, Billy squishes himself against Tawky's belly and goes to sleep.

[sparrowwithaquill]

Pls do Saja Boys x Popstar!Reader. The popstar could be a Sabrina Carpenter type! Thank you!

You got it my friend 😘 I’ve been simping HARD for the Saja boys ever since the trailers and movie came out.

Saja Boys x F!Reader; otherwise called reader is nervous at all the attention from a group of hot guys.

I tried to make it as ambiguous as possible as to what the reader looks like, the only thing that’s set is that the reader has at least hair on their head 😅

Summary: Coming back from your world tour, you expect to rest for a bit before going back to performing. What you didn't expect was gaining the attention of five super attractive men that just can't seem to leave you alone.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I might make a continuation of this with some nsfw bits for each member, let me know if that’s something y’all would be interested in

Tags: @floredaqueen

Getting back to your home from your tours has always been a highlight that you treasure, especially from how exhausting performing is. Still, there is nothing that you would change about your life. Currently, you just got home and cleaned yourself up and decided that going for a walk would be nice. The city is beautiful and getting some fresh air would do you some good.

That's how you now find yourself roaming the street in the market section of the city as you people watch. Occasionally, watching some of the birds as they're flying. One bird grabs your attention from the others though in the way it seems to be watching with... purpose, eventually landing on a sign that is nearby where you were standing.

Normally it wouldn't really be something that you pay attention to, despite you liking birds, but something about this particular bird just gets your attention.

The bird must have thought the same as it stays on the sign despite you getting closer.

"Well, you have some interesting patterns, don't you little guy?" You say to yourself as the bird just watched you, something flickers in your peripheral, but before you can turn to see it, the bird lets out a chirp bringing your attention back to it.

“Hm? Guess you don’t like being ignored, understandable, you’re a very handsome bird,” you smile at the bird before turning to leave, slightly waving to it as you continue to walk around, oblivious to the eyes that follow your form as you leave.

Some time passes before you decide to go back to your home, using the time to listen to some of the songs on your next album to feel out if they're up to your standards.

Days pass with you enjoying your short break and taking the time to slowly get back into your routine of dancing and singing practice. You had just finished your latest practice session when you decide to go back to town to get some groceries, maybe try out that new recipe you've been meaning to indulge in. You’re walking in the direction of the store you most frequent when you see the same bird, a smile coming across your face as you slightly wave to it again.

“Hello my little friend! Didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” you smile until a cough sounds from behind you.

You quickly turn face going red at being caught talking to a bird of all things, before it lands on an incredibly handsome stranger who has a small smile on his face. One that also shows he definitely saw you talking to a bird.

“You always talk to birds, or did I just get lucky to see it?” He says with a small smirk on his face.

“I- uh, no not,” you clear your throat trying to will the heat from your face to die down, “I try not to make it a habit,” you stammer out eventually calming down enough to meet his gaze.

His very handsome gaze that is, the heat slowly returns to your face while your eyes dart around.

You eventually get your bearings, clearing out your throat as you look at him eyes quickly flicking across him, really getting a look at him before finally retorting.

“Do you always watch girls when you’re out or did I just get lucky?” A small smile unintentionally making its way to your face before you quickly choke it down with an eyebrow raise, seeing a near drop dead gorgeous man definitely isn’t something you’ll complain about, but still a man is a man no matter how hot.

The stranger just lets out a low chuckle before stepping a little closer to you, eyeing the bird before it flies off to seemingly nowhere.

“Not really, only the pretty ones,” he says, hands in his pockets of his jeans while he looks you up and down. Before you get the chance to stammer out a reply, four other equally just as gorgeous men come around to him before one of them, the one with a shirt that is clearly hanging on for dear life, claps him on the shoulder.

“Yo, Jinu, we’re waiting for you man- woah,” the man who you would definitely say could call you any time looks at you with a look of recognition, one that you try to shake your head as fast as you can without looking insane.

“So you have a name! Love that for you, sorry for being weird- you guys have fun with whatever you were doing!” You quickly make your way out of there with a hand covering your face to shield it from their eyes as you could practically feel steam coming off it.

The one who recognized you still has wide eyes as he realizes that yeah you are that one definitely famous singer and oh my gosh he can't believe that you ran into them. He quickly clues in the other men who are just confused at both of your reactions, the news making Jinu smile as he starts to think maybe he was right to send his little bird to watch you.

“Oh my gosh I looked like an idiot, a complete moron in front of five hot guys. Ugh girl you need to get your shit together,” you mutter to yourself as you continue walking towards a clearing where some people are talking about a boy group performing there.

You pull your sunglasses on and pull up your jacket a bit to avoid being recognized as you stand in front of a gathering crowd as some music starts. To your shock and horror, the same men that you’d bumped into are performing and singing.

“Oh my gosh I’m so dead, I have to die of embarrassment now, no I need to leave the country,” your muttering is interrupted as you make eye contact with who you now know as Jinu as he winks at you, your face erupting into heat as you pull the strings of your jacket to cover your face. Meanwhile the women and men behind you scream as they think it’s for them.

The action causes the Saja Boys to smile wider as they notice you hiding your face. They continue with their song, you still listening and your shoulders unintentionally bouncing up and down to the music. They notice with glee, their song ending as they send out finger hearts to the crowd watching your reaction as you try to look anywhere but their faces.

They finish their song, officially making their debut as they seemingly disappear into thin air. This gives you the chance to finally go to the store and get all the things you need for your dinner. You're heading back to your home when you hear someone call out to you, you are turning with fear that it's a crazy fan. Instead, you hesitantly turn around to see that it is instead the five hot guys with handsome smiles on their faces. Maybe the fan would have been better, you think as your grip tightens on the groceries in your hands.

The one with long pink hair in the shape of a heart is the first one to greet you as he waves with a large grin on his face.

"You saw our show, right? Did you enjoy it? My name is Romance,” He smiles at you, the action has you lowering your shoulders a bit at his smile. He's pretty friendly, still devastatingly attractive though.

"Uh, yeah I did! It was really good, you were really good!"

You smile back a bit shy, eyes darting between the five men as their eyes zero in on you. The action causing you to get a bit bashful at the cropped shirt that leaves your stomach and cleavage slightly exposed. The men barely try their best to avoid being obvious at their shameless staring, but let their eyes wander a bit.

Jinu is the next one to speak, offering a hand as he speaks.

"Did you now? You need any help with those groceries; we'd be more than happy to help you~" He purrs out, a wolfish grin taking over his face as your face heats up at the look he gives you. Curse you for your dry spell, just looking at these guys is enough to bring some heat to you.

"No! No I'm- I'm fine really and I don't want to stop you guys from whatever you're up to," you let out as the one with mint hair has no shame in smirking at your bashfulness as you make eye contact with him. Who you later learn is Mystery, silently makes his way around you as you slightly back away from the hungry looks they give you. Your back hits his chest as you look up, you making a surprised sound to see him. He has a slight smile on his face at the look of shock on your own.

"We're not too busy, especially not when we could help a gorgeous woman out~" The one with the ill-fitting shirt says tilting himself down a bit to stare directly into your eyes, as he smirks at your nervous expression.

"No really! I wouldn't want to impose," you let out with a small laugh making your way into the direction of your house. They let you back away looking at you with a gaze that screams they would eat you up if given the chance.

A week passes by from the interaction you had, the memory playing in your head like a broken record. The memory is still playing during your practice in your dance studio as you hear voices passing by. You're in the middle of a break as your backup dancers are casually speaking to each other while you leave the room to grab more water and a sports drink. You're at the vending machine when you can physically feel eyes on you, you turn your head a bit to see the most muscular member of their group behind you.

He looks you up and down before letting a coy smile make its way to his face as he leans against the wall across the vending machine. You whip your head around, face getting heated up as you can feel it creeping to your ears.

"So, how's practice going for you?" You hear his deep voice close to you as you turn around a bit and see him now down to your ear, you let out a sound that could be comparable to unholy as you realize just how close he was. Immediately, you start stammering as you try to put some distance between you.

"It's- um, you're so close, it's going," you clear your throat as he just smirks at you, "It's um good; it's going good we were just going on our break for the next hour, rest a bit y'know? Hehe how's uh how's your practice going? What's your name by the way, never uh never got it..."

God, you have been out of the game for so long, can you speak to even one person normally?

He raises his eyebrows, not really expecting you to give a response, but gives a small smile, "names Abby, guess we never really introduced ourselves, huh?"

Your shoulders lower themselves at his response, a small smile gracing your features as you finally make eye contact.

"No, you really didn't, so new group, right? Your performance was really good, really catchy too!"

You smile at him before reaching to grab your drink from the machine, having forgotten about it, but Abby beats you to it, reaching down and grabbing the drink before holding it out to you. You grab it, but he holds it a bit tighter before letting go, his hand brushing yours.

"Well, if you get bored during your break feel free to come watch us practice in room four, I'm sure the guys would love to see you," Abby waves at you as he leaves.

You're left at the vending machine, heart thundering at the brief contact as you watch his back leave before he turns the corner to go back to their dance studio. You are so about to make a mistake going to see them, is all that you think as you're returning to your own room.

After getting back to your room, your dancers and you disperse to do your own thing for the next hour. With some thinking, you decide fuck it and head down to where Abby said they were practicing. You can hear music playing as you look through the door and see them taking a break and make eye contact with Abby who smiles before going to the door to let you in.

"So, you decided to join us?” Abby leans on the door covering your body form view as the other guys in the room wonder who he’s talking to.

“Yeah, figured why not not everyday you can watch a hot new group in their element,” you chirp out before realizing what you said.

“Sorry not hot! I mean you are hot, but I didn’t mean that hot I meant hot as in really popular!” You wince at Abby holding in his laugh as he leads you into the room.

As you enter the room, all their eyes fall on you and your hit with the feeling that you’ve walked into the lions den.

“Welcome princess, didn’t realize we’d have a guest or else I’d have cleaned up,” Jinu says as he looks your form up and down. He’s wearing a loose shirt and grey sweatpants that does nothing to hide his physique.

The other guys in the room all have looks of hunger at your outfit, still breathing heavily from their practice. The one with lilac hair covering his eyes is the second to approach you as he offers you some water.

“Figure you’d want water, I’m Mystery,” he quietly says before going to sit on the floor one leg propped out as he continues to catch his breath.

You’re holding the water to your chest when Abby leads you to where the speaker is, now turned off since they’re taking a momentary break. They sneak glances at you while you sit a little awkwardly just listening to them chat.

Eventually, Jinu calls them back to practice. They start with Soda Pop, as they dance your shoulders bop along to the music while they pour their attention to you making your face flush from the looks they give you.

"Cause I need you to need me," Jinu points at you and smirks, you look away before turning your attention back.

"I'm empty, you feed me," Romance licks him lips while looking you up and down.

"So refreshing," Abby winks at you while pulling his shirt a bit to expose his chest.

"My little Soda Pop," Baby turns towards you and gives you a sultry look before continuing with the dance.

They dance through the chorus while their attention remains on your form, you feel slightly exposed and flush a bit at all their gazes. They finish their dance, and you clap for them, "nice! You guys are good!"

Abby is the first one to approach you, leaning down breathing heavily as he cages you between his arms.

"Any notes you could give us, any suggestions," He asks lowly, voice slightly raspy. You swallow the spit in your mouth as you hold eye contact with him, stammering a bit.

Romance is the next to approach you going to your right side and leaning down a bit to your ear.

"Any pointers you could give us? Any moves you could show us?" He breathes in your ear, his hair tickling the side of your face. You start to breathe a bit heavier at the attention they give you, you lick your lips as they feel impossibly dry.

The action only grabs Abby's attention. He leans in closer so close he was only a hair away from your mouth and lets out a breath as he smirks.

"You nervous?"

You silently nod, leaning back the slightest bit as your back hits the mirrored wall of the studio leaving you trapped between the two men.

"Use your words, princess," Romance chides you from your right as your eyes dart to him. Breath leaving you at his words and your face heats before you stutter out a yes.

Abby takes some mercy on you and eases up on the barely there space and backs away leaving you to Romance as he gets a drink.

These boys are going to kill you.

Romance soon leaves the teasing as he goes off to get his own drink and talk with the other guys, you finally are able to grab a full breath, and your face finally calms down.

You bid goodbye to the boys as you go back to your own studio, mind reeling at the attention and proximity of the boys. These men are much too attractive to be doing this to you.

God help you, your heart can hardly take this.

[danidrabbles]

well.

this is why fiction is so important because i am never writing letters to people in prison but i am very interested in reader-insert-me's choice to do so

really love the characterization throughout this, how they kind of match each other's obsessive freak right off the bat. it's so sweet that she goes to the beach to write that first letter, it's so funny that his reply starts with "thanks for the sand"

the way he detectives himself to her is so... so him, i really liked how you wrote his almost like internal monologue, how he sees it as a puzzle, how he doesn't even know what she looks like but can close his eyes and dream about her to the point he envisions the colour of her apartment, and how he cuts himself to get into the emergency room.

really enjoyed how their interactions were so.. stiff but also laced with familiarity, and how you intwined their more at ease conversation with kisses. “you’re just as nice as i knew you’d be.” “you think i’m nice?” “i think you’re so nice that you’re not telling me everything you’ve wanted to do to me these last few years.” and omg all the colours being yellow just like he pictured. GOD. feeling sooo normal about it. this line also killed me :') and then you pull him down for another kiss and it all washes away like letters in the sand.

smut had no business being so soft. the introspection from his pov was so nice, how he thinks so much about how it is vs. how he imagined it, and that it's better and he can't quite believe it, and he just wants to give her everything.

the ending made me laugh so hard. her being scared about his reaction to her naming her cat after him and him being like, “do you think we should get married?” they're perfect for each other!!!!!!!!!!!! made me laugh, made me swoon, which isn't something i thought i'd say about a you send a letter to a man in prison fic, but you really pulled it off wonderfully. thanks for writing and sharing!!!!

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𝐚.𝐜.

summary: against better judgement, you send a letter to a man at folsom with very sad eyes. against even better judgement, you send letters every week for years until he stops replying one day. and against everything you know, when he shows up at your door, you invite him inside.

pairing: prison letters reader x andrew cody

word count: 12.4k

tags: reader is silly and does things i do not recommend. kids do not write letters to prisoners and fall in love with them. unless it's andrew cody obviously. lots of context no one asked for. nurse!reader, descriptions of wound (andrew cuts himself to get into your work because why wouldn't he!), descriptions of wound handling, smut (oral - f receiving and mating press and the tiniest hint of breeding). takes place in season one, but just imagine he's got season two's hair. you have to fully immerse yourself in the fact that it's andrew cody and then ask yourself—wouldn't you take him home too? it's not her fault!

author's note: here she is! thank you for the patience ♡

you honestly had signed up as a joke. the club was known through your campus to be run by a couple of bleeding hearts. no one had thought the school would approve their activities—letters to prisoners. it was a recipe for disaster.

you should have known better.

but a friend of a friend was involved, and you knew it would make your nursing school application look better, and honestly, you didn’t think anything would come of it. a couple of letters here and there. you had thought it’d be all anonymous, messages of motivation and prayers signed with a first name only.

until your friend—bleeding heart and hopeless romantic, trying to appeal to those very same qualities in you—had shown you the website. that’s when you should have realized it wasn’t just a recipe, it was going to be a disaster.

the prisoners recorded videos—thirty seconds, short and sweet. a name, a couple of sentences about them, hometown and hobbies. underneath the video you could see what they had been arrested for. only the ones who were in for petty crimes—drugs and robbery, things where no one else had really gotten hurt, were allowed to partake. that was good at least. didn’t need any murderers sending letters to pretty co-eds.

your friend picked the guy she thought was the cutest. you watched his video—he was handsome, you couldn’t deny it. but the more videos you watched, the less you wanted to write a letter. you could almost see it, the desperation behind their eyes. it seemed like every man had nefarious intent. like your prettily written letter would not be used for motivation and prayers of a better life outside.

you decided not to send one. you’d rather have an empty slot on your application than a bad feeling in your gut for the rest of the semester. it’s not like the prison was across the country—it was just a couple of hours away.

she asked you to give it one more chance, watch a couple more videos. just pick a cute one, she’d told you. when you’d made a noise of disapproval, she had rolled her eyes.

“okay, pick whoever seems the nicest, then.”

so you had.

the video had been labeled andrew cody. first degree robbery.

the man in the video had been incredibly genuine. you don’t remember exactly what he had said—just bits and pieces. you knew he was from oceanside, born and raised from the way he sounded. he said he had a lot of brothers and a sister back at home. that he spent his time working out and reading books to distract himself from how noisy it was inside. the first thing he’d do when he got out was go to the beach and listen to the waves and breathe in the clean salty air.

and deep down inside, you knew you were just as much of a bleeding heart as the rest of your friends. you had folded instantly.

but it wasn’t just that. you spent the next several nights thinking about him. sad eyes, a singular half-smile at his own joke and then a real one when he mentioned going to the beach once he was released. he’d followed it up with—not that it’ll be any time soon. that made you sad, in turn. you thought about what he was like before prison—did he smile more? was he always so sad?

you thought about a lot of things. more than whatever your friends did, telling you how they had sent their letters, flirty yet inherently professional, so as not to get in trouble with the advisor.

you took a while to send yours. first you couldn’t think of what to write��everything felt so stupid compared to what he must be going through. andrew would hardly want to hear about the mundaneness of your daily life, or the struggles of trying to get into the nursing program.

you thought about not sending a letter at all after the first few times you tried to put pen to paper.

and then you thought about how sad he must feel, how lonely and scared, how terrible it would be to see all the other prisoners get letters besides him.

so you drove to the beach. you surprisingly had more in common with andrew cody than you even realized when you selected him. there was nothing you loved more than the beach, which is why you had even picked your college to begin with. and now, four years later about to graduate, you couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

you caught the sunrise. you brought your little notebook with you to the water after setting your bag down on the bench. the seagulls were flying around, a couple of other beach-goers walking along the border where the sand met the ocean. it was a day like any other.

there were two sides of you—a hopeless romantic inside of an inherently logical girl. one side argued how stupid it was to send letters to a stranger. the other wondered if this would be the day that changes your life. you push away the thought and focus on writing the damn thing.

you thought andrew might like if the letter smelled like the salt-water. the stupid idea felt a lot less silly when you were attempting it, bringing your notebook all the way down to the water and hovering it. a slightly bigger wave caught you by surprise, the corners getting wet where it splashed up.

cursing to yourself, you walked back to the bench with sandy feet. and then you started writing.

dear andrew, and then you paused. fuck. you got out some of the introductory stuff—your first name, that you were a nursing student. it took a while to get the rest of the page filled, until you stopped for a moment and thought about what you would tell the man with the sad eyes if he was sitting next to you.

i came to the beach to write this letter. i’m sorry if the corners are wrinkled when you get it, i almost dropped it in the water trying to get it to smell like the beach so you had a little piece of home with you. i’m not near oceanside but it’s still the pacific.

i can’t imagine how hard it must be to grow up near the water and then be so far away for so long. but at least you know it’ll always be waiting for you when you get released. they want us to write motivational things but i’m not sure how motivating it would be for you reading this letter about my silly life. so i thought i’d write about the beach instead.

it’s about seven in the morning. the weather isn’t too cold and sky is pink and orange right now. the waves were calmer an hour ago when i got here but now it’s getting more intense. there’s a couple with their dog, and another man running on the sand. i’m on a bench writing this, but i’ll walk along the water again before i leave. i would try to send you a shell but i’m sure they’d take it away. maybe sand?

i love the sound of the waves too. my school isn’t close enough to hear it, but i have one of those machines that makes the noises. it helps a lot when i’m trying to sleep. maybe you can get one when you get out too.

you fill up a page, and then another page. when you fold up the letter and slip it into the envelope, you take a couple grains of sand and drop it in there. a little piece of home for him.

then you mail the letter, and think that was that.

+

two weeks later, you get a letter in the mail. you’d heard some of the other girls had also gotten responses—some had been mildly wholesome, while others had been more along the lines of what are you wearing?

but you weren’t worried when you opened yours. andrew didn’t seem the creepy type to you, it felt more like… like he would be glad to have someone to talk to.

you read it in bed, holding an old stuffed animal tightly. his handwriting is stiff and neat, the evenness of the letters and dotted i’s and crossed t’s makes you smile. the way he wrote your name, with bleeding ink like he had pressed too hard into the paper while doing so, made you smile wider.

the first line—thanks for the sand—made you laugh.

andrew writes of the book he’s just read, how the beach you described sounds just like the one in his hometown, and a request that you tell him more about your life in the next letter. his letter isn’t as long as yours, which makes sense to you. he couldn’t have that much to write about. but the last line is what really gets you—thank you for the letter. it’s nice to talk to someone.

you blink away tears, unsure when you had started crying. you reread the letter twice over the next day and a half, deciding to head back to the beach early in the morning to write the next one.

and you’ve always been bad at this. your friends have always called you a hopeless romantic—but maybe you’re just in too deep. it was the product of having been alone for your entire life, not having the dreamy, intense love that so many of your friends had already gone through once or twice at this age. the result had manifested in how you treated the world around you. every door someone held open, every nice response, every lingering gaze could mean something more. that this could be the person, that this could be your soulmate.

you knew it was stupid. nothing could be stupider than assuming that a prisoner, for god’s sake, would be anything more than just that—a prisoner you write letters to. but your heart still beats faster each time you reread the letter, and when you think of his pretty, sad eyes and earnest expression, the urge to write another letter haunts over your entire body.

dear andrew, thank you for writing back. thank you again for writing back and not being creepy (like the responses some of my friends got). i could tell you more about my life but i really wasn’t lying—it’s pretty silly and mostly boring, but since you asked so nicely i’ll try for you. right now i’m getting ready for graduation. i bought a white dress last week. i’m waiting to hear if i got into the nursing program here. i majored in nursing so I just need to do one more year and then after that i can go work in the hospital. i’m thinking about labor and delivery since i think it would be so nice to see babies all day, but one of my friends said the emergency room is always hiring. she thinks it would toughen me up. but I’m not so sure i want to be tough. just incase all of this school talk is boring you, i’ll just tell you about my day on the condition that you'll tell me about yours. yesterday i woke up early and went on a walk. i made breakfast and went to class, and then studied in the library. my friend showed me a creepy response from one of the fellow inmates (by the way, thank you again for not being creepy.) i walked to get a chai—i don't really like coffee. and then i studied, watched the bachelor. it was terrible! my favorite contestant got sent home :(. and had dinner, then I went to sleep early because i woke up early to come to the beach today to write this for you. so i went to sleep thinking about this letter and woke up thinking about it too.

you add a little bit more about your routine this time, just so he has something to read about. you try to make yourself sound interesting where you can—but you’re really not. and you don’t want to force it, make your letters sound grand and full of lies.

you don’t know why—it’s not like you’ll ever meet him. but lying to andrew feels wrong, you guess.

stupid. you’re stupid for adding the last part—but something in your heart flutters reading the line again, because you did. andrew’s sad eyes are in your mind all the time, and you know it’s just a silly infatuation, that he’s a prisoner and you’re a random student and more likely than not, he’s not going to respond to this letter. but you still keep it in.

and so you send the letter. and what’s worse—the one you get back makes your heart swell. he says that you describe your routine so well he can almost see it happening in his head like a movie. he says that he could describe his day-to-day but that it might make you sad. you’re sure it will. he seems to know a lot about you from just a handful of letters.

you reply. he sends another. you reply. and before you can even discern what’s happened, this has been going on for the better part of a year and a half.

andrew gets all the life updates—your nursing school acceptance, how the first year goes. early morning clinicals, the mean preceptor who made your life hell for a month, the baby you got to help deliver, the cat you’re thinking about getting. and the not so great stuff—despite the nursing shortage, it seems the only available job at the hospital you like is in the emergency room.

you don’t give him names but he figures it out well enough. the program you sent the letters through was smart enough not to include the university’s name in the return address, but dumb enough to use a p.o. box in the same city. and in that city, there’s only two colleges, and only one of those has a nursing program.

these are the things he uses to figure out where you are after he gets out—not that you need to know any of that just yet.

after you get the job, the letters are stamped with the mark of the local post office. you must not know that they’re doing that, now that you can’t send the letters through the school anymore. that’s the last piece of the puzzle, figuring out which emergency room you had been working in.

he keeps those letters. they’re his sanctuary—pages and pages about your life. the highs and lows of an innocent girl who thought it would be a good idea to send letters to a prisoner. letters where you asked about him, how he was feeling, how he was doing. how much time he had left, how he thinks the next parole meeting will go, how that annoying guard has been recently. how’s your family, andrew?

if he closes his eyes, he can almost see you. you’re a faceless entity, a glowing angel with a halo hovering in his mind when he really needs you. you’re too perfect to be real—and he knows you would be outside too. if you can care this much through letters, go out of your way to send them even after you graduate, he can only imagine how you’d be if you stood in front of him.

the other students who sent letters stopped after one or two. he’s likely the only one who’s still getting them, and when someone questions who they’re from, he tells a story about his girl, waiting for him outside. a nurse—smart and pretty and devoted and who never fails to send him a weekly update. lives too far to drive up here but he’ll be there one day.

and then he gets sent to solitary.

he doesn’t like to think about it, if he can avoid it. sometimes the noises of the world get to him, brings him back to days and hours he wish he could wipe from his memory. the sound machine you recommended in your very first letter helps some. but the day he goes free, there’s only one sound he knows will calm him down—your voice, the first time he’ll get to hear it.

he has to go home first. he needs a car, the internet, a couple of phone calls to make sure he’s going to the right place.

days turn into weeks. unfortunately—very unfortunately. the only thing andrew wants is to finally see you in person, to finally hear what your voice sounds like. what color is your hair? what color are your eyes? he knows you like yellow—what would he find if he saw you? yellow hair clips? painted nails? how about your apartment? would the walls be yellow?

no, probably not. you rent. you wouldn’t do anything that wouldn’t get you your security deposit back. you’re too good for that, too safe.

yellow sheets, maybe. blankets, pillows. if he closes his eyes, he can imagine himself in it.

he tries to leave after the first job but there’s too many watchful eyes, too many moving pieces. he needs to get everything together—his truck, cash and some cards, a plausible excuse. he needs to make sure no one comes following him, needs to make sure that in his quest to come find you, he doesn’t get you tangled into the web of his family instead. he’s stuck somewhere between figuring out how to keep you safe and the realization that the safest you’ll ever be is right now, before he comes for you.

but fuck, if it doesn’t haunt him. the fact that he’s finally so close to you. that you’re a car ride away. that somewhere out there is the girl who, one day, realized another letter wouldn’t be coming.

had you cried then? been upset? wondered what had happened? bothered to find out if he was dead or freed or living without you? he hates that he couldn’t get you another letter to explain himself, but he figures explaining in person would be easier, and better. in all those years, you never once wrote him about a date or a boyfriend or anything in that realm.

the way your last few letters were, it were almost as if he was your boyfriend. (he lets the thought linger inside him for a few seconds, if that. any longer and it would possess him like a demon and he’d be rendered useless. unable to work, unable to think, unable to breathe. just him and the idea that he was that important to someone else.)

+

and then one day, a couple days after a job and after being fed up with the entire world being scared of him, he leaves to find you.

that’s just the thing—no one understands him. all his life, he’s been the unstable one, the one others are worried about, frightened of. but no one understands that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

no one, except maybe you.

so he says he’ll be back in a week, and he drives down to the hospital where you work.

he hasn’t gotten a real look at you yet. he spent the first night in the parking lot of the emergency room. he watches hordes of nurses go in and out, and no one stands out. he spends some time doing research—nurses only work three times a week.

his odds of seeing you for the rest of the time he’s in town are fifty/fifty. it feels like he should be able to pick you out from a crowd, with the way he knows you so intimately, but he can’t. he keeps an eye out for yellow water bottles or shoes or lunch bags, but he doesn’t see any for two days.

so he decides that he needs to get inside.

pope keeps a pocket knife on his person, and another one hidden in the car in case of emergencies. that’s what he uses to slice his palm open so he has an excuse to get inside. not too deep—he’s not stupid. just deep enough to need stitches, shallow enough that he can still feel all his fingers and wiggle them around.

and then he goes inside, and he waits.

each time the doors open, a different nurse steps out. some are too old, others too young. no one has anything yellow on them, or the personality that he knows could only belong to you. cheery, but serious. empathetic to a fault. you would probably cry if you saw a kid crying, just like how you used to write to andrew, telling him you had cried thinking about a patient you lost and their family, cried thinking about him alone in prison.

you’ve shed tears for him. a man you’ve never even met. he has to recognize you when he sees you. he knows he will—the two of you are bonded in more ways than one. through ink and blood and tears.

“david?” a voice calls out. so lost in his thoughts, he’d not realized the doors had opened again or the name he’d given them. he looks up, making eye contact with the nurse, his nurse, and she walks closer. “david?” the voice repeats, and he raises the non-bloody hand.

you are just like he thought you’d be. your hair is pulled back, which is a shame. he wants to see what it looks like when it’s down, what it smells like when you get close enough. pieces in the front fall out from behind your ear. his finger twitches momentarily.

and, he thinks with a pleasant sort of smugness, there is yellow—the plastic band around the stethoscope, the badge reel with a smiling cartoon on it, the pens tucked neatly in your scrub top pocket.

“hi david, i’m going to be your nurse today,” you start, looking at him in the eyes. your eyebrows furrow a little, like you’re trying to remember why this man looks so familiar—it’s not like he had expected it. his hair isn’t the same anymore, longer than the video you had seen of him. if that was your benchmark, he certainly looked somewhat different. he doesn’t fault you for not recognizing him right away. in fact, it’s better this way. “if you’re ready, i can take you back now.”

you smile at him, beautifully. a bright, wide smile, like there’s nothing in this world you’d rather do than take david back, and have a look at whatever’s bothering him. it’s genuine, it’s safe, it’s warm. how do you do it? he thinks briefly to himself, how do you make everyone feel like they’re the most important person in the world? just with a smile and a couple of sentences you must say a thousand times a shift.

andrew’s not one for many words, but his thoughts run rampant—he’s always thinking. he can’t get his brain to turn off, not now, not ever. even putting pen to paper was hard for him, even for you. but you seem to understand him, just like you did back then. without words, without talking, without touching or knowing. you just know him.

you take him to a bed behind a curtain and start rattling off a list of rehearsed questions. first name, age, date of birth. the more he says, the more you seem to get a step closer to recognizing him, but he doesn’t push it.

you come closer to the bed and gesture to his wrapped up, bleeding hand.

“may i?”

“yes. yes,” andrew says, unsure of how it’ll be to feel your hands on him for the first time. you start slowly, unpeeling the layers of gauze that he had brought with him from home as a just incase. he doesn’t flinch or wince, but you still speak up.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s not very comfortable.” you apologize without needing to, and he’s sure it’s because you want him to feel better about it. “how did this happen again?” you ask, staring at his wound closely. you’re not very far from his face. he can feel your breath even against his skin.

“accident. was cutting something.”

“well, you should be more careful, david.” his middle name has always felt foreign to him, though somehow, it doesn’t seem that way coming from your lips. andrew briefly feels like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than here, no one else he’d rather be than david, getting his hand tended to by you.

“yeah. i should.”

“well i’m going to go ahead and get this cleaned up. just to be sure, any drug allergies?” he shakes his head. “great. we’re gonna clean it and then the doctor will be in here to stitch it up and we’ll get you on your way back home. does that sound okay?”

you look at him earnestly. as if on the off chance he said it didn’t sound okay, you’d have an answer ready to go. nothing to shame him, nothing to make him feel bad. just to comfort him and make him feel better. like there’s nothing more important than getting him back home with aid instructions for the rest of the week.

memories of your letters wash over him like a warm wave over soft sand. you’ve known from the jump that you were meant for this, but it all suddenly makes sense. how kind you are, how gentle you are with him, how you’d be with anyone.

you were meant for this, just like how you were meant for him.

“that sounds okay.”

you sit on a stool at the level of his hand. you dab with the cleaning solution and tell him you’re sorry about the sting. it’s half a dozen apologies in the short time he’s known you, and he sits and wonders, staring at your pretty hair and the undoubtedly smooth skin of your neck, that he’ll have to work you out of that habit.

you shouldn’t be apologizing for anything, much less helping people the way you do.

he stares at you while you think of another question to ask him to distract him from the pain of cleaning his wound.

and your patient is nothing if not a starer. when you got up to add something to the chart and stopped to chat with a fellow nurse and friend of yours about how long it might take the doctor to see him—calling him by his nickname, mister sliced hand in bed four—she interrupted you half way through the conversation.

“the one who’s staring at us right now?” you turned your head too quickly to see what she was talking about, and were faced with sliced-hand david, looking at you and the other nurse.

not in a creepy way, like some other past patients of yours. he’s just…looking. like he’s waiting for you to come back. his gaze doesn’t leave you, you notice. he watches your friend as though he’s watching over you.

the thought is almost… sweet.

and then you shake your head and turn around, breaking the eye contact. you have a bad habit of doing this—turning every interaction, every look into your eyes and held-open door into something more than it was.

your new friends at the hospital also call you a hopeless romantic. you knew that you were just sort of an idiot when it came to these things. it was the long-standing result of still never having been in a real relationship. you’d never felt the fireworks, never known the rom-com sort of true love and happy ending. you had never even gotten to the angst-filled third act breakup.

so maybe you were still a bit of a projector—projecting every single interaction into something more than it was. a patient with a staring problem became a man who was looking out for you, worried for you, love at first sight.

and you shake your head again. snap out of it. you had a problem, seriously.

the closest you’d even come to anything remotely related to love at first sight was the insane amount of letters you’d written to a prisoner a few years ago, and even then—

stop. it. you barely knew what the guy looked like, and yet, you found yourself wondering all the time what had happened to him. if today would finally be the day you’d find out. he could be the stranger next to you in the coffee shop. the person buying fruit next to you in the grocery store.

for all you know, he could be the next guy who walks into your life, and yet—

“you are seriously such a goner,” she says with a laugh, playfully shoving your shoulder.

“what? i-i just got lost in my thoughts.”

“a guy could blink at you and you’d be imagining your embroidered towels and baby names-”

“that is not true-”

“right, i know. you’re right. you’re just gonna hold out for mister prisoner until you’re an old lady with a bunch of cats-”

“hey! i have one cat and he is adorable, okay-”

“yeah, yeah. that’s how it always starts. one cat.”

“i’m going to go take care of my patient now.”

“don’t let him blink at you.”

you roll your eyes and make your way back to bed four, where david stares up at you with pretty, sad eyes. eyes that seem a little familiar, but it’s hour eight of twelve and you’ve taken care of half a hundred people so far. your tiredness seeps through your pores but you still smile and sit on the stool.

“sorry about that, david.”

“are you okay?” he asks, incredibly earnestly. you blink at him dumbly. once, then twice.

“yes?” you reply slowly, unsure of what he means. maybe you’re more tired than you thought. “is everything okay?”

“i saw her push you.” you blink again.

“oh. oh. no, no, she’s my friend. that was just, um-” you blank momentarily. his concern is so palpable you can feel it in the air. “-a joke. she was joking.”

“oh. okay.” david goes silent but his eyes are still on you. you decide the best course of action is to change the subject.

“so! david. this might be hard but no going in the water for at least a couple days. maybe more, depending on what the doctor says.”

“sure. can i.. can i still go sit on the beach?”

“yeah. that should be fine.” you clean out the wound further, but he doesn’t wince. “do you do that often?”

“yes. it calms me down.”

“me too. something about the sand and the waves. the air is just-”

“cleaner.” for the first time that night, david interrupts you. your eyes leave his hand to look up at his face.

“yeah,” you agree, slowly, wondering why his words feel so familiar to you. “cleaner.”

there’s a brief pause, and david doesn’t say anything. you look back down at his hand, continuing your work. but something inside of you stirs, curiosity poking and prodding at your memories. you’ve heard that before, somewhere, and even then you had thought about how no one had ever used that word to describe the ocean air before, when—

“i thought you wanted to deliver babies. do you not want to do that anymore?”

as if it was in slow motion, you retract your hands away from his. you move your head to look up at him and your jaw falls open a little—you had known david looked a little familiar, but when you had seen that thirty second video of him, his hair had been short and his skin had been a little paler, and the man sitting in front of you now—

well he wasn’t cute anymore.

he was handsome now—dark brown curls grown out. he looked like he’d spent some time in the sun, recently. his eyes—sad and pretty as they were—seemed a bit softer now. and your gaze on him made them even softer, like he was trying his best not to frighten you. how someone takes care of a skittish animal, ready to bolt at any second.

you swallow, and then bring your hands back to his, keeping the piece of soaked gauze on top of his wound gently

“i-i do. want to. this was just the only job opening when i-” you pause, sucking in a deep breath. he already knows about this—andrew. it was in one of your letters. “when i finished school.”

you feel his hand move under your touch, and then his other hand, the unwounded one, over yours. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s tense. hard. like he wants to make sure you can’t just disappear like sand between his fingers.

“i thought you might have found another job by now.”

“it-it’s hard. you get used to something and it’s hard to leave.” you pause again. there’s a million and one questions storming through your mind, but you stare into hazel eyes and they all go quiet, one by one. “you said your name is david-”

“i wanted to see if you would recognize me.”

“i’m sorry, i-”

“don’t apologize.” andrew, like his letters, speaks concisely. you should have guessed. you would send him pages just to get a few paragraphs back—and he would always say it’s because he didn’t have much to talk about, that learning about your day to day was much better than whatever he could tell you.

it was the first time your heart fluttered with the knowledge that out there, somewhere, is a man who wants to hear about your day. the closest you had ever gotten to the semblance of a real relationship. a man who cared about you, even if he never said as much. it was always clear to you, through his carefully chosen words and the things he wrote you about and how much he said he liked hearing about you.

he used to ask you questions about things from a dozen letters ago. remember to follow up after some big exam or a really hard week at work. asked you what you did to feel better. tell you what he would do to help you feel better—nothing creepy, never creepy. if you were supposed to be scared of him, you never were. he never gave you any reason to.

“are you okay?” andrew asks, and you blink yourself out of your thoughts.

“yes. yes, sorry. i just-” it’s a little ridiculous.

you’re a smart girl. you’ve always been a smart girl. you don’t do stupid things—you don’t drink yourself silly at bars and go home with random men. you don’t say yes to dates with strangers, despite how much you believe that a stranger can become a soulmate in an instant. you don’t put yourself in situations you can’t get out of.

but when it comes to andrew, you haven’t listened to a single one of your own rules. you sent him letters for ages after the other girls in your class had stopped. you had opened up about your life and wanted to learn about his life in exchange.

and despite every greater instinct, you had fallen asleep for years thinking about the day he might walk back into your life.

“did you ever get my last letter, andrew?”

you’re not even sure where the words came from—that’s the last thing you should be saying right now. how did you find me? when did you get out of prison? why are you here right now? should have all come before.

but something inside you burns, like it has for years, with the knowledge that he never sent you another letter. and you need to know why.

andrew sits up a little straighter, taking heavy breaths and staring at you. it’s the first time he’s heard you say his name, his real name. you two haven’t moved an inch, his hand still on yours. he blinks slowly at you and you don’t realize it, but you’re holding your breath.

“i did. i-i was in solitary. they don’t let you write letters there.”

“oh. i’m so sorry,” you say, and it’s second nature. you hate what andrew went through, and seeing him in front of you brings you back to the first letter you ever got back from him. how polite he was in it, how sweet the whole thing seemed. it was never meant to get this far, but it had, and you—

you are nothing if not a believer of soulmates and fate.

“that’s okay. not your fault.”

“but still. that must have been really hard.”

“i wanted to write back. i-” he stops, pulling out something from the pocket of his button-up shirt. he unfolds a piece of white notebook paper—and the breath you were holding leaves you quickly. that’s the paper you used to write him letters on.

“is that my last letter?” when andrew moves to look at you, he’s expecting it. a nervous lilt to your voice, fear in your eyes. like he’s crazy, like you’re scared.

instead he glances over hesitantly and you’re beaming up at him.

“you carry around.. my last letter?” the words come out as a smile forms on your face—pretty and genuine and sincere. you stare at him expectantly, and he doesn’t know how to respond.

“i…” the words falter. “i just wanted to ask you about it. did you, did you get that cat?”

“i did!” it comes out louder than you meant it, drawing the attention of some other nurses around you. you turn briefly, using your free hand to push the curtain so it’s closed around you two. “sorry. i did, yes. he’s so cute. i don’t have my phone or i’d show you the pictures-”

“that’s okay. you-you can show me later.”

“but i didn’t say i was getting a cat in that one. i just said i was thinking about it,” you feel breathless.

“but there was another one before that. you mentioned it then too. i figured you’d get it since you were thinking about it so much.”

“yeah. yeah, exactly.” your brain can’t seem to compute what’s going on. any fear that had been in you, if there was any of it to begin with, has completely melted away, replaced with a warm, glowing feeling in your chest, slowly spreading out to your limbs.

you had been thinking about getting a cat for ages—a thought you had mentioned to andrew maybe twice. and your justification had been just as andrew said, because you were thinking about it so much.

how did he know that?

and then the curtain opens behind you, and the doctor comes in to stitch up andrew’s hand. you have to pull away from his hand and andrew thinks you’re leaving, eyes following you and his expression shifting, but you don’t leave. you go to the cabinets to pull the supplies and help the doctor and and keep your eyes focused on the wound while his hand gets stitched up. eight stitches and not a single wince of pain or discomfort.

and though the thought makes butterflies emerge and fly around your stomach, when you finally look up at andrew, he’s been staring at you the entire time.

+

you have a tiny apartment in a shitty neighbourhood. it doesn’t feel safe at all, save for the fact that one of the houses down the street is owned by a rookie cop and his wife. there’s not that much crime, but the area inherently feels bad.

maybe it’s just that way to him—since he doesn’t want you living in a place like this.

it’s fine for now though. he’ll get you a better place soon enough. it’s by the water, and when he closes his eyes, he can hear the waves crashing on the sand. the sound alone might be enough to justify why you’d live here.

he keeps his eyes shut, just for a half dozen heartbeats, when he pulls up against your curb. he just wants to hear it before he says goodbye—it’s getting late, almost dark, and you must be exhausted. you’ve been at work all day and though you act like you’re completely fine, he knows how intense it is. there’s other letters, safely stored away, where you told him about how breaks are far and few in between, how you barely get time to drink water and eat a snack because of how busy it gets. he offered to stop and pick you up something to eat but you refused, saying you had food at home that you shouldn’t waste.

you sit in the passenger seat of his truck, staring around it as if you’re looking for some more information about it. anything would help you—half-empty drinks or gum wrappers or extra clothes in the backseat, but there’s nothing. the truck looks like he just got it yesterday, no sign of use or anything branding it as andrew’s car.

“can i walk you to your door?” you snap out of your thoughts.

okay—maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea in the world to let a virtual stranger drive you home. but when his hand was taken care of and you give him the paper instructions with way too many sample packets of antibiotic gel, all he said was that he’ll wait for you.

“wait for what?”

“to make sure you get home safely.”

and, really, what are you supposed to say to that? no, i’m good, thanks. you’d be even stupider than you already are to say that to someone who is just trying to be nice to you.

(he’s more chivalrous than any guy you’ve ever talked to, and probably more than any guy your friends have ever complained to you about. and more than that, it’d be rude to say no, especially once he realized you wait for a shoddy-at-best bus to get you home because you don’t have a car and it’s too dark to walk. he wouldn’t take no for an answer after that.)

and more than that—he waited another two hours for you to get home. every time you’d step out to bring back another patient, you’d see him, sitting there, waiting patiently for you. glancing up when the door would open to get a glimpse of you, of the small smile you shot his way before taking back whoever’s turn it was.

and he’s not a real stranger, a voice in the back of your head keeps reminding you. you’ve known him for longer than some of your coworkers have known their fiancees and husbands. and in all the time you’ve known him (meaning all the letters you’ve sent and received), you’ve never gotten a creepy word or even a fragment of a sentence that frightened you.

so you think the least you can do is let him drive you home and walk you up the two flights of stairs.

“of course. thank you, for-” your sentence gets interrupted. andrew gets out of the car and you turn to do the same, but then you see him—walking around the front of his truck, coming to your side and then opening the door for you.

oh.

your heart thuds dully in your chest at the very idea of andrew opening his car’s door for you to get out. after driving you home and politely asking to walk you up. whatever inhibitions you had melt away and you briefly think that whatever he asked of you, you’d do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

if that made you stupid, then so be it. you’d gladly be the stupidest girl on the planet if you get to feel whatever it was that andrew cody has made you feel for the last couple of hours.

his truck is jacked up tall, and he gives you his hand, the one without the cut, to help you get down, and you accept. he closes the door for you and lets you lead the way up the stairs.

silently, you two walk up the creaky steps together. hands brush together for all of seconds and he briefly wishes seconds lasted longer, until you’re standing in front of your door.

you’d once had a cute spring-themed wreath on the door, bought on clearance from the local store after easter, and a matching door mat. your elderly neighbor had told you to get rid of it because it was basically an invitation to criminals that a young girl lived here alone. you’re stupid, but not that stupid.

and now your front door looks barren and empty. there’s a few plants you can see from the window sill but the curtains are drawn and there’s an extra dead bolt a fellow nurse from the hospital’s husband had helped you install.

you look up silently at andrew and he looks back at you. this is it—it’s supposed to be goodbye. any normal girl would know that this is where the night needs to end, that you need to process what all of this means and if you had any friends you trusted with this information, calling them and asking what to do.

but you don’t want to call your friends, because you know what they’d say—to lock your door and get a restraining order and burn andrew’s letters, the ones you kept in a cute box under your bed and reread much too often for anyone’s comfort.

and you’re not a normal girl.

“do you want to stay for dinner?”

there’s not much to study on andrew’s expression—he keeps it stern and serious for the most part. his eyes are soft when they look at you and they soften even further when you say those words.

“yes. yes, thank you.”

you think maybe he wasn’t expecting it. you think that you weren’t expecting it either, not exactly sure where the words had come from. but you still lead andrew inside, showing him the only slightly comfortable couch you had to get delivered since you didn’t have anyone to help you lug a used one up the stairs. the squeaky door that leads to the bathroom, the tiny space you called your kitchen. your bedroom is behind a closed door and andrew stares at it when you go inside to change out of your scrubs and come back out in the kind of clothes that you sleep in.

and then he stares at the shut door even after you leave, before realizing that you’ve already made your way to the space between the living room and kitchen, a narrow expanse with a small round table and some placemats with flowers on them. you set down your backpack and take your hair out of the clip that holds it back for you at work and suddenly, he’s staring again.

it’s just a little too close to everything he’s been dreaming about for years.

“i’m really sorry. i was supposed to go grocery shopping but i hate bringing everything up-”

“don’t apologize.”

“also, i’m-i’m not really a good cook. i’m sorry-”

“i don’t think anything you make can be worse than prison food.”

“i really doubt that. you’ve never had my cooking.”

you glance back him and he meets your eyes at the same time, and you both start laughing. it’s nothing crazy—andrew didn’t seem like the kind who laughs easily anyway, but he cracks a smile and the noise is indelible—all you can think of is how you can get him to laugh again.

“do you like spaghetti?”

+

if someone had told you yesterday that this time tomorrow, andrew from your letters would be sitting across from you at your dining table, eating spaghetti that you made while rushing, looking so in place in your tiny home that your heart hurts, you think you would have passed out.

you watch him while he eats, absentmindedly swirling your own noodles on the plate, unable to focus on eating when he’s really in front of you. after countless dreams and days spent wondering what had happened to him and if he was okay and if he ever thought about you. he’s… bigger than you thought he would be. shoulders broader than you had realized from that tiny video. his mannerisms interest you more than they should—how quiet he is, but how he seems to latch onto every word when you go on and on. just like the letters, it seems he’s still a listener.

(it doesn’t help matters when he tries to clear the table and wash the dishes after—you have to wrestle the plates out of his hand and tell him to go sit down, that he can’t get his bandage wet. jostling against his iron-hard body was not on the list of things you thought you’d get to do today, and the very realization that andrew is twice as strong as you on his worst day does…things to you. things that do not need to be named or explored right now. he’s still a stranger, you try to remind yourself. no he’s not.)

but it seems that he can’t sit still. he wipes down the counter and then comes back to help you dry your yellow dishes and when you both finish up, with you still smiling at him and unsure of what excuse you can conjure to get him to stay, he finds it all by himself. you tell andrew to go sit on the couch while you finish up and he does, and when you follow him out there, he’s standing in front of it. he turns his head to look at you and then back at the couch.

your cat is perched on his usual spot, and you go over to him, scratching the top of his head between his ears and making extremely childish, stupid-sounding noises at him.

“andrew this is wardy,” you say, picking him up and bringing him closer. “he’s really friendly. i promise.”

“hello, wardy.” when he says it, you look up at him with a look he can’t find words to describe. as close to love as you can get it when it’s a technically a stranger. the way he greets your cat and helps you clean and knows more about you than some of your friends and coworkers do.

there’s no words for it. it just is.

so you sit on the couch next to andrew, your cat between the two of you, and you wait for him to tell you that he wants to leave. you flick on the television, settling for whatever silly romance movie is playing on your netflix account, sitting in the almost-silence with andrew and wondering why still, it doesn’t feel necessarily uncomfortable.

eventually andrew reaches out to pet wardy, and he curls up into his touch, settling comfortably against his forearm. (his huge, thick, veiny forearm, you think briefly, before chasing the thought away with a broom. and then another one—no wonder he had bled so much at the hospital. with veins like these.)

“this area’s not the best,” andrew says, speaking as though you need to be reminded of it, to know that he doesn’t approve.

“i know. but it’s cheap and it’s near the beach.”

“but you live alone. it’s dangerous.”

“but-” you glance over at him. he takes up most of your couch, wardy’s head resting against his thigh now, while he continues petting him. he looks over at you and it’s clear—this isn’t an argument. “you’re right. but i mean, how bad can it be? if you’re here now?”

you pause. stupidly, you’ve just revealed whatever thoughts have been rattling around in your head. like the fact that you’re assuming he’s going to be here more often, when the truth is that you have no idea if that’s true.

why would it be true? you tried, in earnest, to make sure your life never seemed anything more than it really was in your letters. but andrew drives a brand new truck and wears an expensive watch and you have absolutely no idea what he was robbing or why he was doing it—and you never asked. the assumption that just because he found you, meant that he was going to keep you was completely insane. a misgiving on your part, because surely, whatever’s waiting for him back home is better than your crappy cooking and a tiny apartment and a cat that you—

“sorry, i’m sorry. that’s such a jump. we just met. i’m so sorry, i can-” you stand up, and so does andrew.

“why are you apologizing?”

“because i just.. i don’t know.” you try to pace around your apartment but you only get a few steps away before you have to come back. “this is crazy. we’re both crazy.”

you feel it in the air before you hear him say it. it gets tenser, quieter, more serious. like what you’ve both been dreading for the last few hours is about to happen.

“do…do you want me to leave?” you turn to face him quickly.

“no! no, i don’t. that’s why this is crazy. people are going to think we’re insane. i don’t want you to go. i want you stay. i want you to tell me everything i missed in the last year and a half. i want to know what you did with my letters. i want to know-”

and when andrew reaches forward to grab your forearm—gently, not meant to hurt you—you freeze in your tracks. staring up at him, all the words in your brain, every stupid thing your friends ever told you about this make-shift relationship you had concocted in your head melting away.

“i want that too.”

“oh. well, i just thought-”

and this time, he doesn’t let you finish, leaning in for a kiss that makes your knees give out. andrew’s mouth—wet and hot and on fire—kisses you like you two were made for each other.

as cheesy as the thought feels, you swallow it and wrap your arms around his neck. it’s every stupid romance movie you’ve ever seen coming to life, your life. all because of him. he doesn’t break the kiss, not even to breathe. you feel his tongue poke into your mouth and you accept it gladly. you fall back on the couch and the movement of it makes wardy scamper off, and you move your head just for a second to see where he runs off too, but andrew doesn’t stop. he lines kisses along your cheek and your jaw until you turn back and he gets your lips again.

you feel his weight on top of you, and briefly, you wonder if you should tell him.

countless nights spent wondering what this would feel like, how he would kiss you, all the things he would do to you. you have to keep reminding yourself, you’re just a stupid girl—it’s not your fault that a few nice letters was enough to make you head over heels for the last few years.

because somewhere deep down inside, you knew. you knew that it would be like this, that it would be perfect, that it would be everything you wanted. that he would take care of you and want you as badly as you want him. your crown title of hopeless romantic had finally paid off.

another thought stirs as he keeps kissing you. it’s feverish and hot and makes you warm all over—how long it’s been since he’s had someone, how he kisses you like he’s out of practice. his mouth is so hard against yours it almost hurts, but you welcome the pain. it’s like he’s proving to you that he’s really there now, that nothing can tear him away from you.

but then he does pull away. you catch your breath, hands traveling to his face and running your fingers through his hair. andrew’s pretty eyes close and you cherish it—that you made him feel like that. he leans into your touch, head resting against your hand while you both take long, heavy breaths.

andrew leans in, pressing your foreheads together.

“i-i’ve wanted to do that,” another breath. you feel butterflies continuously emerge and flutter around your chest and your stomach, all the way down to between your legs. “since your first letter.”

and then you can’t resist—leaning back in for another hard, wet kiss. you feel him shift, strong hands on your hips, but staying firmly there, not traveling despite how much you wish they would. he’s been polite again, you think. waiting for you to give him permission.

“you can-” you start, but andrew keeps pressing kisses against your neck that make it hard to finish your sentence. “you can touch me.” you expect his hands to spread—grope and grab and tease until you’re begging for more. for him to be impatient and hungry and not stop until he’s inside of you.

“i can’t believe you’re real,” he says quietly, one hand moving up to your waist and touching the soft skin there gently. he traces up your arms and then down before intertwining his fingers with yours. you stare up at him, stupid as ever. every time you think you know anything about andrew, he proves you wrong.

“i can’t believe you are, either,” you say, tilting your head up for another kiss. a short, chaste one this time. “you’re just as nice as i knew you’d be.”

“you think i’m nice?” he asks, voice low. you nod in response, words escaping you. you settle to answer with another kiss, hands going to his shoulders to steady yourself, tugging and pulling on his bottom lip with your teeth.

you push up until he understands, and he uses two huge hands to get you into his lap, sitting up with his back against your couch. you straddle him, trying your hardest to not lose your train of thought as you realize how hard he is against you.

“i think you’re too nice,” you tease, unsure where you’re finding the confidence. under you, andrew looks spacey and flushed and all kissed out, but you don’t plan to stop. you lean in to press kisses to his cheeks and work your way to his jaw and neck. when you stop to look at him again, he looks hopelessly up at you, and you think he’s waiting again, waiting for permission to do something. “i think you’re so nice that you’re not telling me everything you’ve wanted to do to me these last few years.”

the way andrew looks up at you after you said that—god. you wish you could engrain it into your memory. you’re not someone who does this often, but you might just be good at figuring out how to get andrew to crack. he looks up with some of the hunger you’d imagined there’d be, and it makes something stir inside of you.

it feels strange to be wanted the way andrew wants you right now. you’re just not used to it, not entirely sure that you’d ever feel this way. that someone would ever make you feel this way.

your thoughts are wiped again when he pulls you into another kiss, and you deepen it, moaning into his mouth. you’re being so loud that your older neighbor might be able to hear you, but you can hardly bring yourself to care right now. andrew is quiet, like you thought he would be, but each soft grunt and heavy sigh is enough to make your entire body tingle.

you think you’re being better at staying quiet yourself when andrew scoops you up into his arms, carrying you like it’s nothing for him. you yelp loudly, forgetting everything for a second, realizing how lovely it feels to be carried by him. he leads you two to your bedroom, setting you down gently on the bed.

you stare at him, hovering above you, wondering how you’ll get to do this. how you’ll get his clothes off and watch out for his hurt hand and that you’ll finally get to feel him inside of you—when he just stops moving.

andrew looks up and around your bedroom, craning his neck to take in all of it. you’re not sure why, stuck in a position under him that forces you to just watch.

“is everything okay, andrew?” when you say his name, he turns back to stare down at you.

“yes. yes, it is. it’s just-” he pauses, looking back up and then down. the room is decorated with lots of pretty frames. there’s yellow curtains on the windows and your sheets are yellow under you too, just like he’d suspected. seeing it in real life almost sends him back to years ago—the first time he’d wondered what your bedroom looks like. the place from where you write your letters, the place you read them. “it looks just like i thought it would.”

and just like every other part of tonight, your reaction continues to surprise him. you smile and then laugh, holding onto his shoulder even tighter.

“spend a lot of time thinking about my bedroom, huh?” you tease, and he remains just as confused as ever.

you are such a conundrum. andrew thinks that he wants you so badly he can’t form a proper thought—and then the thoughts merge and blend and anger at the very idea that you’re so trusting of him. you should be more careful. you shouldn’t trust anyone how much you’re trusting him right now—inviting him inside your home, letting him into your bedroom.

and then you pull him down for another kiss and it all washes away like letters in the sand.

eventually he does pull away—though it takes an enormous amount of self control. the words you said on the couch haven’t completely left him yet and he still needs to answer you. you claw and pull at his shirt so he lets you take it off of him, you trace a hand down his chest, stopping at his heart and pressing your palm flat against him.

you’re staring, he thinks, but you’re really just admiring. taking in every detail, every scar and bruise so you can ask him about it later, moving your fingers down his abs and biting your lip while you stare daggers at his chest.

he moves away from your touch though, as sad as it makes you.

“you wanted to know everything i’ve thought about you?” andrew says, and the words make you tense up—thighs clenching, walls fluttering just from words alone. your fingers tighten around his bicep where you’ve been holding on, and you nod up at him dumbly. “can i show you?”

your head falls back onto your pillow with a thud. you nod again.

you let andrew set the pace—he peels off your clothes and you lift your hips and raise your arms in compliance. he starts with a kiss to your stomach that makes you whine, fingers leaving his skin and grabbing onto your sheets instead just to have something to hold on to.

you’re embarrassingly wet—you already know you are. it’s almost painful how badly you want him, even against better judgement that tells you that you could have, at the very least, taken things slowly.

you guess andrew just brings it out of you.

his kisses move south and you brace yourself, every muscle tensing up in anticipation. andrew is silent except for his deep breaths and somehow, with each one deeper than the last, they make your entire body shudder in anticipation. when he finally gets to your leaking cunt, you hear it. a strangled moan, sounding painful and from the depth of his chest and filled with want and need. just from looking at you. you can’t imagine what he’ll sound like when—

“this is what i thought about. this is always what i thought about.”

and then andrew licks down the length of your cunt with the flat of his tongue, and you can’t think about anything else anymore. he’s relentless, exploring you with his mouth like he’s a man starved. you can hear the noises, obscene and sloppy and wet as they are.

and then you feel it—his mouth around your clit while one finger prods at your tight opening. your back rises off the bed but he holds you down with one huge hand over your stomach. his finger slips inside you more easily than he thought it would. though you’re wetter than he imagined, he doesn’t stop teasing your clit.

your wetness coats everything—his tongue, his lips, his chin. your thighs are wet too, and he’s sure he can get your yellow sheets soaked too if he could tease you long enough. but he’s been incredibly patient all these years, unsure if he can wait any longer to get what he’s wanted.

his hand keeps you pinned down while his mouth stays on your clit and then andrew adds another finger and you thrash up against him. it’s useless against the weight of his hand holding you down, but your body moves anyways, hands wrangling into his brown curls, likely making a complete mess of them. you keep pulling and he moans between your legs and the vibration makes you thrash harder, a completely exhilarating cycle.

when he finally releases you from his grip, you think the other hand will explore up and down your body, but true to form, you’re wrong. andrew finds your hand and holds onto it, lacing your fingers with his while he keeps going.

when adds a third finger, you realize that he’s saying something against you. you can’t quite make it out with your heart thudding in your ears and how loud you’re being, but then it becomes a little clearer—

“you taste even better than i thought you would-” and you can’t stop it, the tension in your stomach winding tighter and tighter before it snaps altogether. a white hot heat washes through your body and makes you shake even harder, but andrew’s hold on you keeps you completely grounded. he works you through it, not stopping even once, not until you’re trying your hardest to pull away from him. you try to catch your breath but it’s useless. your head feels completely empty.

incoherent, you grab at andrew, murmuring something about inside, please, and he really tries to stay level headed. but one glance at your naked, writhing body and your expression while you beg for him is enough to tip him over the edge.

resisting you requires a level of self control that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to have.

andrew doesn’t think he’s ever had any self control when it comes to you. it’s why he did this, isn’t it? showed up at your hospital with your sweet letter folded up and somehow convinced you, without saying much of anything at all, to trust him and let him back into your life. he doesn’t even know how he did it—he can’t recall most of what he said to you. it plays in his head like a movie, like how your letters used to.

he doesn’t know what he did to deserve your trust, just knows that he’ll do whatever he has to in order to keep it forever.

andrew’s thoughts about keeping you cloud him while he lifts up your legs, manhandling your body while you squeal under him. he pushes your knees to your chest and lets your legs hang in the air while he hovers over you. all he can think about is getting inside of you—-giving you exactly what you’ve been begging for, fulfilling every fantasy he’s had about you in the last three years. the noises you’ll make. how tight and wet and warm you’ll feel around him. how you’ll look with his cum dripping out of-

“andrew, please, please,” you plead, and he’s not sure that you understand exactly what you’re asking for. it’s good that it’s him you picked for those letters, good that he’s the one who tracked you down.

someone else, well, he thinks, lining himself up with your soaking wet entrance, someone else might have had bad intentions with you. not andrew, though.

his intentions for you are only good. intentions to keep you happy and safe and move you away from this tiny apartment and make sure you get the job that you want, no matter who he has to threaten in order to do so. intentions to keep everything taken care of so the only thing you ever have to worry about again is him, just like you’d done for all those years when you wrote to him.

and as he slips inside, he knows those letters are in this bedroom somewhere, that this bed is where you read them, that these were the pretty hands that held his letters and these were the pretty eyes that read them.

you stare at him while he hovers over you, not pushing in just yet. andrew’s dick is just like the rest of him—thick and broad and so wide that you don’t know how you’ll be able to walk tomorrow. there’s veins too, just like his arms, and it’s all you can think about with him enclosed over you.

when he pushes his thick head past your fluttering walls, you make a noise like nothing he’s ever heard before. pure want and heat wrapped up with pleasure and pain. you keep begging for more but he’s not sure you can even handle it—but who is andrew to deny you?

he pushes further inside of you, now half way, and you cry out. andrew leans in to kiss you again, swallowing the noise and letting you moan against his lips.

another thrust and he’s almost all the way in. he pulls out and pushes back in, and then he starts his rhythm. your tits bounce with every thrust and he watches entranced, until his eyes go back to where you and him meet. in this position, on his knees with you folded underneath him, he can see it perfectly.

it’s enough to make him finish instantly. you look completely fucked out under him, crying out with each push of his hips.

your open your wet eyes and glance up at him. through wet lashes and blinking eyes, you get out a few words, stopped by each thrust.

“is it-” you gasp, words getting caught in your throat because andrew is so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach and your chest. “is it what you imagined, andrew?”

“god, yes,” he says, and the sound is so perfect to you. it comes out broken, in the form of a gasp and a moan combined, and you want to hear it again and again. he says your name like it’s a prayer grounding him to you and you keep your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close to you and bringing him in for another kiss. you can feel andrew’s pace start to stutter, his moans getting louder and his grip on you getting tighter. you hold his face in your hands, locking eyes again.

“inside, andrew, please, i want it inside, please, please,” and again, andrew thinks to himself, like some besotted fool, who is he to deny you? he releases whatever inhibitions he had left and fills you up with his cum—rivulets almost never ending. it leaks out around his dick, messing up your sheets and staining your thighs and making a mess of everything. he hears your heavy breaths and looks to see you smiling sweetly up at him.

and then he collapses next to you.

“hi andrew,” you say quietly next to him. your hands go to his, playing with his fingers and running the pad of your thumb over the veins on his hand. “was it how you thought it’d be?”

“it was better,” he says, breathless. you giggle and lean in to press a kiss to his cheek—and for a moment, he forgets everything. the circumstances of your introduction and the way he’d discovered you long forgotten for a few heartbeats. just you and the sound of your laugh and the promise of the future he wants with you before him.

“there’s still some things i thought about that we didn’t get to yet,” you tease, and he wonders, briefly, what he’s going to do with you.

and then you two hear it—scratching at your closed bedroom door.

“oh god,” you say, sitting up in bed.

you groan a little since your thighs are sore and it’s a wet, sticky mess between them. andrew keeps his hand on your arm and helps you sit up, and joins you in the position, like he’s preparing to help if you need something.

“warden, stop,” you say, but he doesn’t listen. you turn to andrew. “i’m gonna get him.” you try to move your legs and put weight on them, but you feel your knees buckle immediately, with andrew rushing to your side to help you back into bed.

“oh my god. you broke me.”

“i’ll get him. just-just sit down.”

andrew opens the door and picks up your cat like it’s second nature, bringing him to you on the bed before getting in right beside you. your cat is sweet but there’s not many people over at your apartment, and you worry for a moment that he won’t be nice to andrew when he wants your attention. but wardy doesn’t move from his position, staying curled up again andrew’s chest and arm, completely at ease.

“he likes you. that makes sense,” you say, smiling up at him, leaning in to pet wardy’s head.

but andrew doesn’t understand.

“warden. i thought you said his name was wardy?”

“that’s just a nickname.”

“why warden?”

“oh well. it’s silly, um-”

“tell me.”

“well, uh. well, warden is just the letters in andrew. uh, rearranged.”

“oh.”

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, is that creepy? i was really projecting, i guess, when i got him. i just loved your letters so much and i’ve never had a boyfriend or anything like that-”

“do you think we should get married?”

thanks for reading! ♡

[ahnaiee]

— Not Just A Friend

[📃] situations where they realize that you are, in fact, not just a friend

[🖇️] Zhongli, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya

[🖋️] Fluff ;; headcanon

[1] an old fic from an old blog

Zhongli

He invites you out to lunch one day

You accept and you two head out to Liuli Pavilion. Lunch paid by Childe /j

Right after ordering, you carry on with talking, Zhongli listening to you with a noticeable smile on his face.

You don’t notice the way he is staring at you, and the way his eyes soften as you talk, too busy recounting the day’s commissions.

He gets a bit carried away with the staring, eye wandering over your face, the food the waiter brought forgotten

The waiter comes by a few seconds later after you ask for a cup of water and while handing you your request, asks you if you are on a date

you say no, flustered, and say that he’s just a friend.

You are too distracted with clearing up the misunderstanding with the waiter, and you fail to see Zhongli frown.

Amber eyes darkened considerably as soon as the word friend left your mouth. Of course, you were too busy with telling the waiter of the misunderstanding, who Zhongli could tell with narrowed eyes was making sure that you were single before asking you out.

A frown played on his lips as confusion blurred his head at the sudden dislike he had at the word.

Strange, he thought. Considering that weeks ago, when you called him a friend, a close confidant, he would feel happy to know that you regard him in such a close way. The title of a friend, to you, someone who even with a smile could make heads turn in the streets of Liyue, made him smile.

But now…

Zhongli looks at you as you take the flower the waiter handed to you, and his frown becomes more prominent, with the furrowing of his brows and the darkened, amber eyes of his.

  Then he realizes. Jealousy. It’s the emotion he is feeling as the waiter flirts with you, as you laugh at the attempt.

  The day passed by, and Zhongli is left with an inkling of his sudden distaste of being called a friend by you.

a few days would pass and he notices the way his heart would beat a bit faster when your around

he notices the warmth in his chest, the butterflies in his stomach, and when he himself addressed you as just a friend, he notices the way the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth…and the longing to call you something more than that

He realizes

He knows

and he is not against it

Why would he?

its you

he has come to like a person as beautiful, as amazing as you and maybe he had even fallen for you

but that’s another part ;))

Childe

A nightly walk with Childe is a constant thing in your life since you met him

whether it be every few months

or every day in a week

you always go out to a nightly beach walk with the ginger

it's the normal routine

he talks to you, you listen

you talk, he listens

you converse

you laugh together

and then you go your separate ways, bidding each other a good night

Tonight, however, Childe would not help to notice the way the moon highlights your side profile. You look ethereal. Beautiful.

The way your face is so perfectly angled to highlight your imperfections and perfections, your eyes glittering under the moonlight and his breath is caught in his throat.

Your hair is flowing in the breeze, ruffled and messy and he resists the urge to move a stray strand away from your face. His eyes trail down to your lips and he hesitates, mind thinking of how it would feel against hi—

His thoughts are cut short by a nudge from you, a giggle making his heart thump.

Childe looks at you and you give him a raised brow. “Oh, you’re still there.” You say and smile. “Thought I lost you in my random ramblings.”

He laughs. “Your ramblings are entertaining so to think I wouldn’t listen to them is quite rude, comrade.” He gives you a lopsided grin and you shake your head, a smile on your lips.

“I mean, they are good stories,” he continues, kicking a rock nearby. You both watch the stone fly.

“Nice to know you like them, Tortilla man.”

At the nickname, you catch a pout on his lips, and you laugh. “Couldn’t have used a sweeter nickname, [name]?”

You only laugh louder.

The next few minutes of your walk is in silence.

“I really enjoy these walks, Ajax, really.” you break the silence, a soft smile on your lips.

“It helps me calm down after a long day. it’s a good thing you suggested it when you noticed me feeling a bit down, or these routines of ours wouldn’t have been a thing now.”

he only smiled back, blue eyes softening. His smile turns to a grin and he throws an arm over your shoulder to bring you closer to him. “Of course, comrade! Why wouldn’t i? it’s what good friends do.”

he stops.

‘'friend?'’

he looks at you

you with those pretty eyes

beautiful laugh and voice

'oh’ Childe thinks, realization dawning on him

oh

well, friends seem a bit too much of understatement of the feeling blooming in his chest now

he bites back a giddy grin, and brings you closer to him, ignoring your sound of surprise as he hugs you.

Diluc

he realizes this is in the tavern

it was both his shift and yours, with you talking to him and occasionally helping with the drinks while to waiter babysit the patrons

its a normal routine for both of you, where you would take a break and sit in front of Diluc

small talk, silence, or long conversations, is something Diluc finds himself looking forward to every time it's his shift

and every time he stops and thinks about why he gets excited about these small things, he brushes it off as friendship.

Boy was he wrong.

“Hey Diluc?”

“Hm?” He looks up from the drink he was working on, only to be five centimeters away from your face. He looks away and coughs behind his hand. “Do you need something?”

You shake your head and lean back on your seat, giving the poor redhead time to hide his burning ears. “I was just wondering about your hair.” You point to it. “And how fluffy it looks.”

Diluc looks at you, brows raised, and ears unbearably hot. “Pardon?”

“It’s fluffy.” You repeat. “And perhaps silky as well.”

It was silent for a while.

“Do you mind if I touch it?”

Help this poor man, he doesn’t know why he feels like this. 

He stumbles over his words, drinks on the counter, now forgotten.

“I-” He clears his throat. “It’s… alright. You may go ahead.”

He doesn’t miss the way you beam at him, and the way his heart begins to beat a bit faster than normal.

You step down from your seat and practically bounce to stand next to Diluc. He turns around and you start playing with the red locks, marveling at how fluffy it felt.

His cheeks warm, and his heart beats faster.

This is fine, He thinks. It’s a normal interaction between friends. This is fine.

Kaeya, also long forgotten with the drink the redhead was working on before you asked about his hair, lets out a cheeky grin and gives his brother a hum.

“Friends, huh, Master Diluc?”

You were too distracted to hear the blue-haired man, but Diluc was not. He glared at his brother who only shrugged and gave his brother a mischievous smile before turning his attention back to his wine.

The redhead repeats the title in his head. Then repeat it quietly out loud.

He freezes. 

He looks at you, with newfound realization in his eyes

You look back at him, a brow raised. “’luc? Are you alright?”

The redhead shakes his head, a small smile evident on his face. “I’m quite alright, actually.”

“Hm, alright. If you say so.“ You shrug and return your attention back to his hair, braiding it and quietly wondering what hair products he uses.

He smiles. 

Kaeya pretends to vomit at the scene. Inside though, he’s happy for Diluc cuz he hasn’t seen him smile that way in a while.

Kaeya

Both of you are frequently partnered up on jobs as knights.

sometimes in missions given by the Acting Grandmaster

sometimes for patrol

sometimes just to drink the night away in the tavern, much to Diluc’s dismay.

But his feelings are realized while you two are on night patrol outside the city, in the Whispering Woods, and have encountered a bit of a problem.

You hear the crunching of leaves and breaking of twigs behind you and you tense. As the sound comes closer, you glance behind you and relax a small bit.

“Ah. Captain Kaeya.“ You sigh as the blue-haired man comes into view. You turn your back from him again, observing the area with keen eyes. “All clear in your place, I presume?”

He chuckles from behind you. “Now why would you think that, sweetheart?” You roll your eyes at the pet name, “Seeing as you’ve come by the area I’m patrolling.“ 

The man laughed and you finally turned to face him. “Well, am I right Captai-” You stare in shock.

The cavalry captain’s hair is filled with leaves and twigs, and his fur cape is askew. A smile is plastered on his face and his eyes are hazy, as if…

Your eyes trail down to his hands, with one clutching his side. You quickly head to him. “Kaeya-”

“No, no, I’m fine, [Name], I’m-” He raises his free hand against you and took a step back

“-You are not fine- don’t back away-!”

Unfortunately for him but fortunately for you, a tree is what waited for Kaeya behind him. His back hits the wood and you quickly pry his hand away from his side, revealing a wound.

“Oh my- Kaeya! What happened?” You bring out your safety kit and tell him to sit down. He complies. After all, what can he do? As you got to work, you repeated your question, worried lines on your forehead. Kaeya frowns, feeling guilty for being the cause of the creases.

“I, er, got snagged.“ He sheepishly answered.

“Snagged?”

“By a protruding trunk.”

You continue treating his wound. After a few seconds, you giggle, the creases on your brow now gone. 

“The hotshot of the Knights of Favonious, the one who would always tell me that if he gets injured it would be from a large-scale fight, is right here in front me, being treated from a wound caused by a trunk.“ You chuckle. “Oh the irony.”

He raised an amused brow. “Hotshot? You think I’m hot, sweetheart?”

You give him an unimpressed look and press a bit harder on his wound. He hissed and glared at you while you whistled along.

It’s quiet.

Kaeya watches you patch him up and feels warmth in his chest.

He notices the way your mouth is formed to a pout as you concentrate, the furrow of your brows and the way the night sky is accenting your beauty.

He’s captivated, he realizes. But why?

“[Name]?“

“Hm?”

“Thank you for.. patching me up,“ 

You smile at him as you clean up the gauze and bandages. “Oh, you don’t have to! It’s what friends do for friends.”

His smile slightly turns sour, but you're too busy cleaning up to notice. 

“Yeah, friends, right.” He looks away. 

Blue eyes widen in realization and he turns back to you.

Ah. 

He’s captivated by you, once more. 

And now he knows why.

A smile creeps up his lips, “You look quite pretty under the night sky, darling.”

You let out a surprised squeak and gently smack his arm. “What are you saying?!”

Kaeya laughs, the warm feeling in his chest growing as he looks at your flustered face, a soft smile on his lips.

Well, aren’t you captivating?

 ©ahnaiee [do not repost, copy, translate, or modify]

[galbiyun]

ᝰ.ᐟyou can't leave me with just a kiss

drabble★ wc; ~1k loser﹗ jake꒱

make you mine

⋆˚࿔ ˚꩜ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Jake was popular in the campus. Not only for being handsome and popular but also from the rumors going around.

‘He’s built like a god’

‘They saw him leaving with Kate at the party’

‘He must be heavenly in bed’

You believed all of it. You couldn’t deny the fact that he’s hot, a hot nerd.

He is popular in the campus. You didn’t know him personally. You had friends who either just talked with him or were closer to him. Didn't really have a specific reason to talk to him.

You were on your bed, scrolling on a dating up on call with your best friend, not thinking much of it., swipping right and left, you saw a familiar face.

⋆˚࿔ ˚꩜ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

5 hours ago you were waiting on your couch, same as the other dates. Waiting for no other than Jake to come pick you up for your date.

That night you decided to swipe on him with two possible explanations outcomes.

1. He either went the flow or got embarrassed but it went well.

2. He called you out and with his overly-social skills got you outcasted.

At first he was embarrassed to say at least but the more you talked the more he was opening up.

The first dates were chill. Started with a casual dinner at a nice restaurant, then it was a movie at the cinema. The next date was at an arcade, which ended up with him being dragged by some kids to help them win a stuffed animal.

Nothing too much happened though. A hug here and there, holding hands. ‘Nothing much’ includes multiple make out sessions at his house when it should have been a ‘movie night’.

⋆˚࿔ ˚꩜ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

5 hours later you’re screaming your lungs out, sprawled on Jake’s bed. Jake had been going at you like a feral animal for the past 2 hours. Body? Sore. Legs? Sore. Pussy? Full of cum. Clit? Fucking sore.

After 3 rounds and 5 orgasms from you, he was finally happy with himself. For now.

But how the fuck did you go from a make out to sex?

Today’s date was a bit more sensual. Started with you asking if he wanted to have dinner together later that day at his home and watch a movie.

The whole hang out was weird, more sensual than the other dates. Jake made sure to be more open, more obvious. It just started with him kneading your thigh nearly 10 mins in the movie, clearly distracted.

The problem? You continued it. Halfway through the movie you were back to normal, sitting next to each other, nothing much. By the end of the movie you were rubbing him over his sweats, eyes focused on the TV in front of you like you didn’t give a shit.

Eventually, the movie ended. You got up and started getting your stuff while Jake was watching you from the couch, palming himself through his sweats now.

Five minutes later you were by the door, ready to leave. “You’re leaving?”, Jake got up and stopped in front of you. Too close. So close you could feel his breath on your face.

You tilted your head, a fake look of confusion on your face. “Shouldn’t I?” You were acting like you hadn’t given a poor virgin a fucking boner, leaving him wanting more.

The eye contact never broke. No one looked away. Jake’s eyes were talking for him. Full of lust, full of want, full of need.

You leaned in, lips brushing but not kissing him yet. Jake had had enough. He pulled you in, one hand gripping your waist and one on the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.

You pulled out from the kiss, both out of breath. Jake looked like he physically needed more but you wouldn’t give in.

“You’re not leaving now.” “Why not?”

“You’re can’t leave me with just a kiss.”

[bones4thecats]

Hiya. I'm new but I was wondering of you can do a type of comfort request, for Leona, Idia, and Lilia from Twisted Wonderland.

They learn that their s/o actually has partials do to having their teeth removed for medical reasons, and their s/o is ashamed or scared how they'll be treated as since everyone just jumps to conclusions about how they lost their teeth.

(For me even though i literally take perfect care of my teeth I've had teeth get infected and the infection was starting to go into my jaw bone so it was either I had the teeth removed, since they couldn't be saved, or wait and possibly lose part of my jaw bone from the infection)

↳ Fearful of Their Own Smile.

A Twisted Wonderland × GN! Reader.

Requester: @werewolfnamedraven.

Characters Included: Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, and Lilia Vanrouge.

A/N: Hey there! Hope your life's been good since then, also hope your health is great! These are also short and sweet, so hope you like them.

●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●

🦁 Leona was surprised when he first saw your teeth, and he no doubt was kind of freaked out at first. Your friends were upset with out visual his reaction was, knowing how insecure you were about them. 🦁 After being confronted by Ruggie and Jack about it, he found out what happened to earn the missing teeth. And he'd be the biggest liar if he said he didn't feel bad. You did everything to keep them, but you still lost them in the end.

🦁 In order to compensate for his actions before, he had gotten you your favorite treat. And in his own words, "It's not 'cause I wanted to do something nice, okay? I just ordered them by accident and heard you liked them. Just- take the damn things." 🦁 You smiled and took the treats, thanking him before walking away. And now you had a new bodyguard against people judging you. He was a lion beastman, a prince, and his name was Leona Kingscholar.

🎮 Idia has seen a lot of things throughout his life. People judging each other heavily was normal for him, he plays a lot of video games, for crying out loud. 🎮 He's also been judged for his teeth, so when you came by with your own, he wasn't shocked or disgusted. He actually acted the same as he would with the others. By squeaking in fear of socializing with such an extrovert and running back to his dorm, Ortho having to explain why he left in such a hurry. 🎮 If you guys did end up becoming closer, he would actually compliment your teeth. He'd like to make sure you felt nice about them. He didn't want you feeling bad about them. And if he found out someone insulted them, he'd have some fun hacking into their accounts and subtly editing some... information.

🦇 Lilia has seen a lot in his hundreds of years of life. Beings without the normal amount of teeth being surprisingly common. He served in a war, so extreme and minor injuries from battles were normal to come across. 🦇 When you came around and he noticed your teeth, he wasn't surprised. He felt the same as he did before with you. You were a nice person, so being against you from something you couldn't control felt dumb to the elder fae. 🦇 His protectiveness of you was shown to all when a Diasomnia student asked what was "wrong with you mouth" in a rude tone. He glared at the second year and asked him what was wrong with his ears. The younger fae flinched and raised his hands to said body part with confusion and fear on his face while the ex-general and you carried on with your day. 🦇 Top-tier friend and lover, I'm telling ya'.

🌊 Copyright © 2025 by Bones4thecats on Tumblr. All Rights Reserved. 🌊

[katy-133]

Something really cool about TF2 is that, to get these wrinkles, the artists didn't just use normal maps (those purple-looking maps that helps create depth in flat textures) and call it a day. The models actually use tension maps: Alternate textures of the face that are overlayed and mixed on top of each other when certain parts of the face scrunch up. The more these areas scrunch, the more these alternate textures appear to replace the default texture.

In Blender, here's how the wrinkle maps look on Scout for compressed (left) and stretched (right) skin. Note how there's darkened lines around Scout's eyes and mouth, respectively:

It's neat. I think it's such a nice detail.

This is what happens when you get overwhelmed by the charming details of character design and animation by looking at them frame by frame over and over while making 90 gifs of the same guy

[reversedpineapple]

Your yandere profiles are so well written! Please a blade one I beg 🙏

Ehehehe Anon, no need to beg. You ask and I shall serve, 。(⌒∇⌒。)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. I tossed so many drafts I thought I would never get this done. Maybe it’s my sleep deprived brain talking but I am pretty happy how his characterisation turned out.

─═✧═─ 𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕖: 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 ─═✧═─

¸.•° Yan!Blade x Reader °•.¸

TWs: Obsessive behavior, imprisonment, paranoia, unhealthy relationship, description of death, unstable partner, description of bodily harm, description of body parts being removed

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated. :D

ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ Word count: 1.9k ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬

By continuing to read beyond this point, you have agreed to the trigger warnings and to be at least of the age of 18. The author does not hold any responsibility whatsoever for your actions.

Blades infatuation is beyond understanding

For Blade to fall for you, you would need to be someone who is familiar, safe, soothing. This does not mean that you would need to know him before “the event”. In fact, if you knew him back then, he would not even look at you twice, his head now only filled with the mad whispers of Mara. You would need to be someone whom he met after all of that. Maybe you could be someone who accepted money from the Stellaron Hunters in exchange of a safe room on a regular basis, hidden from the law enforcement of your planet or an informant. Perhaps you are even one of them yourself whether your part being fighting on the front line or supporting Elio behind the scenes. Anyways, you work together with him on a regular basis. That’s the first step and I may add, one of many. Every action Blade takes is to push others away. Despite claiming to be a tool for Elio so he could finally find peace, he is very capable of feeling emotions. They mostly surface whenever he meets Dan Heng or another member of the former High-Cloud Quintet.

It’s easier for Blade to catch romantic feelings should you be a person who does not fight. It’s not impossible if you are with them on missions but it would just remind him of a certain group… well, as much as he is capable of remembering. Something is poking at the back of his mind and he does not like it. Most of the time Blade remembers something from his past; it's an indicator for his descent into madness so he avoids things like these as much as he can. Like already said, it’s not impossible, it just takes a lot longer for him to see you as more than someone he has to work with. In any case, do not try to be some overly nice person. Despite being cold, Blade is still as polite as he can muster whilst being in agony. He does not need someone trying to butter him up. Just be as normal as possible and all will be nice and well.

The man will keep his distance, that is just part of who he is. It does not matter if you have known each other for a long or a short time. Blade can’t say what it is or why it’s even there but sometimes it feels like there is a man with white hair poking through the anger and madness of Mara. During the rare times that happens, he will be of clearer mind than usual. It’s also during that time that he thinks about his current life and how to achieve his goal of peace. The closer together you grow though, the more times you will also invade his thoughts during these moments. You will not be the subject of a long line of thought, just a small sentence slipping in. When he thinks about the missions, he will remember Silver Wolf and how she mentioned that you liked that drink she saw a vendor sell. Strange… he would usually not remember things like that. Blade may repress his emotions but he is very in touch with himself. He will definitely realise that he feels more for you than the others. For him to come to the conclusion that it is romantic affection will take some time though.

When he finally does, he will not tell you anything. There are just too many things going on in his life right now for him to focus on something like that. Example being taking revenge and finally finding peace. For now. Perhaps it’s a tiny spark of his humanity surviving in his Mara struck mind but over time, he feels himself yearning. At first, it’s not much. As an example, we can take him remembering your favourite drink but now he also wants to get it for you, to see your thankful smile after seeing that he thought of you. Over time, things like that will pile up. What was once the simple urge to do something for you turns into utter devotion. Blade does not have much happiness in his life after everything that happened so when you gradually start to turn into the light of his life, he will find himself willing to exist just a bit longer if it pleases you. During all of this you won’t even know that he feels that way. Yes, Blade acts a lot closer with you than with the others, although he is still pretty silent when around you, but it comes across like something akin to friendship.

It depends on whether you have romantic feelings or not. Blade would need Kafkas help to pinpoint whether that is the case, the woman happily giving him hints since his debacle serves her as a wonderful source of entertainment. Should you not want more than companionship from him, then he will continue to act as your slightly distant friend. He just has already way too much drama in his life and does not want to add more onto that by forcing you into a relationship. There is also a small part of him that couldn’t bear it if your gaze should turn from trust to fear. If you show signs of romantic affection though, he will carefully approach you. It is to note though that Blade is not someone who would do something like confessing to you upfront. Like those kind gestures of thinking of you he will start to slowly creep more into your life. After half a year you will slowly start to realise how much more time he spends with you. Not that you mind. Despite his silent demeanour he is good company. Things that could be considered something close to acts of romantic affection slowly bleed into your life. Like when you accidentally dropped a glass and he caught it, handing it to you and holding your hand a bit too long or that one time when you were chopping vegetables and he leaned over your shoulder to see if he could help, his chest slightly brushing against your shoulder.

He gets a bit closer, a bit more affectionate with you every time you two see each other but in such subtle ways that you don’t even realise that. Blade does not call or text you casually. Whenever you meet it will be in the confines of whatever mission he has to fulfil which makes the time you spend with each other so much more precious. Blade does not want to risk getting you into trouble even in the slightest bit so he forces himself to endure, his affection growing beyond what should be humanly possible until one day he holds your waist, his other pressing a kiss against the back of your hand. In that moment, you ask yourself how you never noticed the burning gaze he only throws at you. His lips not pulling away from the skin of your hand, them slightly ghosting over it, a silent prayer expressed in a language without words. A prayer to see him and only him, to be his sun, to have pity on the man who fell so so deeply for you. Blade doubts he could continue to hang on even a millisecond longer should you turn his affection down.

From that day on, he will not hold back from showing his affection any longer. Don’t expect great poems of love from him or confessions boldly proclaimed. Blades love is silent, he never told you vocally how he feels and yet you always know. Every single action he does in your presence is to show you how much he adores you, how he would it would break and torture his mind should something happen to you. It does not matter whether the task you are doing is small or one of greater effort. The second he sees you doing something he will be there to assist you, a gentle press of his lips against the skin of your hands if at least one of his own is free. The action brings such a peace to his mind he thought to be impossible. One thing uncharacteristically he does is laying his head on your lap and enjoying your presence. Should you brush through his strands he would swear that he was the first person to be cured of the Eon of Abundances affliction, the Mara coming to a halt and his head finally clear. This is his own little piece of heaven, the sword oh so inseparable from his side leaning against your door. He dislikes the idea of fighting in your presence but he is also aware that slip ups can happen. For all he knows, a well angered security camera was able to pick his trail up this time, the law enforcement of your planet already on their way.

Good things never last. Blade is capable of suppressing the darker desires he has for you, to gouge out your eyes so only he remains in your memories, to chain you forever to his side. The last thing he wants is for you to fear him. Please, not you, not his sun in the sky but even he has his limits. Blade heard something snap when he saw the blood dripping from your body. He will not react like this should you accidentally hurt yourself, things happen after all but when someone intentionally harms you he sees no longer any reason to hold back. He will of course not act upon the darkest of his desires, the ones already mentioned but you will need to say goodbye to your life in freedom. A month later and he will tell you to pack your bags, his tone of voice clearly telling you that this was not something you could voice your opinion on. His eyes are hardened, telling you that it would not take much to tip him into a frenzy. So you obey.

In the short time, the man will have prepared a small safe house in the middle of nowhere, the furniture and layout as close as possible to your old home. There is one glaring difference though, there are a lot more key holes in the front door and the windows are made out of thick, tempered glass which are also not able to be opened widely. Blade will take good care of you, he truly does! You will never need food, entertainment is also brought to you but he will not give you tools to communicate with the outside world. Should you try to somehow trick him into giving you his phone, he will come by the next time without it. He knows the other Stellaron Hunters can handle themselves just fine so he doesn’t need to be available all the time but apparently you can’t. Why can’t you understand that the world is not a kind place? Eons trample upon human life like it’s worth nothing, he would know. The Abundance has taken so much from him and he refuses to let the same thing happen to you too. That one time you were lucky, only a small cut marring your skin but what if the next time he finds you lifelessly laying on the ground, a puddle of red steadily forming around your form?

Blade swears it’s the Mara talking, it twisting his thoughts once more but one day you will age, grow old… leave him behind… Surely you can withstand becoming a long-life species. He was able to hang on for a long time before meeting Kafka and if you should fall into madness, he would still love you all the same.

Do not copy, translate or use my work without my permission. All rights belong to the author.

[writeroutoftime]

family help

pairing: carmy berzatto x fem!reader (requested by: @kpopgirlbtssvt)

summary: when Carmy goes to propose, everyone at the bear pitches in to make it a special night

warnings: none!

words: 1k

a/n: ahh, my first time posting writing in quite a long time! definitely nervous, but I loved writing for Carmy, especially since it's 4 days until season 4! anyway, I hope you enjoy!

oOoOo

Carmy felt as though he could throw up. Granted, being in the middle of opening a restaurant on a six month-timeline made him want to throw up often, but especially in this moment. He looked around the room at all the people who cared about him. Richie and Fak arguing about where to put the flowers. Tina and Syd bringing out the food. And Sugar keeping a watchful eye on everything.

In that moment, Carmy reached into his pocket, feeling around for the small box. It had become his nervous tick over the past few weeks. Making sure the ring - your ring - was still there. It felt heavy in Carmy's hand, and he couldn't resist taking one more peak at the ring. Hopefully, the last time he would like at it before it found its new home on your finger.

It was Tina who snapped Carmy out of his thoughts. "Let me see the ring again, Jeff." she smiled."

Though he had already shown her the ring, Carmy obliged and angled the box towards Tina. "Now, I just have to pray she says yes."

"Nah, I know she's gonna say yes. You two are strong."

"Thanks, T."

A few hours later, you pushed open the door to The Bear, looking around. "Carmy?" you called out when you didn't see any of the normal bustle for this time at the restaurant.

Walking further into the space, you gasped when you saw a candlelit table framed by your favorite flowers. The door to the kitchen opened softly off to the side, and you turned and saw Carmy.

"Uh, hi." he smiled, running his hand through his hair for what looked like the nth time.

"Hi." you echoed, heart warming at the sight. "So, what's all this? Doesn't look like family to me."

"Right, you're, uh, you're right." he spoke slowly, taking a few steps towards you. "But, I, uh, did have some help."

You took a moment to take a closer look at the table. Not only were your favorite type of flowers, but also all your favorite foods. You smiled softly and turned towards your boyfriend. "What is going on?" you giggled. "It isn't our anniversary. It's not my birthday. It's not your birthday. So, what am I missing?"

"Do I need an excuse to treat my girl to a nice dinner?" he asked, pretending to be wounded by your words.

But Carmy pushed forward and pulled a chair out for you. He gestured for you to take a sit, pushing it back in as you sat. After a quick run to the kitchen, he brought out the main course and took the seat across from you.

The two of you ate, laughed, and caught up. Though you saw him every day, opening The Bear had taken a lot out of him. It was nice to just be with each other. No stress, no menus, nothing.

Eventually, Carmy reached out to grab your hand in his calloused run, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. He gave you his signature, nervous grin, his curls falling in front of his eyes. "Hey, you, um, you look really beautiful tonight."

There was no way to stop your face from heating up at his words.

"And I hope you know how much I love you." Carmy continued.

"I know." you whispered, squeezing his hand.

"I'm glad." he took a deep breath. "I know this shit with the restaurant has been crazy recently. And I know I haven't been there as much as I should be." he rushed on so you wouldn't interrupt. "But you're on my mind every second of the day. Even when I should be worried about the menu, or plates, or literally anything else, I'm thinking of you.

"It's been that way since our first date. And I have no doubt it's going to stay that way. I want to be by your side for everything that comes next. Restaurant or not. You're my rock, babe. I don't know what I would fucking do without you." he chuckled.

He reached into his jacket and grabbed a small box before shifting to one knee. Your heart was practically in your throat as you watched the scene unfold before you. It was impossible to stop the tears that welled in your eyes.

"Carmy-"

"Just wait, please? Let me get this out." he paused, only continuing when you nodded. "There's a lot I'm not sure about in my life, but the one thing I'm damn sure about is you. So, y/n, will you marry me?"

There was no need to take time to think over your answer or to worry about being eloquent. "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you, Carmen Berzatto."

"Fuck, really?" Carmy asked, feeling emotional himself, as if he hadn't expected you to actually agree.

When you repeated your response, he fumbled with the ring, almost dropping it. But he managed to keep hold of it and gentle slid it onto your left ring finger. He took a moment to admire the way it looked there, praying he would never see it off. Looking up at you, he smiled, knowing he was the luckiest man ever.

"I love you." you whispered, pulling Carmy up so you could finally hold him.

"And I love you."

As the two of you leaned into kiss, you yelped in surprise when there was a barrage of cheering and yelling that came from the kitchen. Whipping your head in that direction, your head falling against Carmy's shoulder, laughing as you saw your friends - your family - pour into the dining room.

"I told you I had help." Carmy whispered in your ear, chuckling himself.

It didn't take long for the two of you to became separated as Sydney and Sugar gushed over your ring and Richie and Fak were clapping Carmy on the back. Despite the chaos, it was perfect, and you paused to savor the moment. Carmy managed a glance at you over his shoulder and winked. Yeah, you knew everything would be alright.

[galindaarduennaa]

“Oh, Elphie, math is awful! I think the only way I’ll possibly get through is being able to think about the possibility of incentives. I still have no idea what I want to be my major so I’m just hoping that whatever it isn’t doesn’t require even more math. One class is bad enough!” She blushed, realizing she was rambling. She stood up to collect the trays, smiling as Elphie stood up to get to class. She was about to tell her goodbye when Elphie leaned forward and kissed her quickly. She blushed, realizing this was the first time Elphie had kissed her in public. It had been a nice kiss, and they were dating now, it was only normal that they’d kiss in public, it had just been unexpected.

As she picked up the trays and turned, she realized many people were staring at her. Including Pfannee and ShenShen. Had they all been watching as Elphie kissed her? Raising her head high, she walked to return the trays, seeing Pfannee and ShenShen making a beeline for her. This was honestly the last thing she needed. She returned the trays and turned, seeing the two of them standing in front of her. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to step around them.

“Galinda,” Pfannee said, looking at her. “What was that? Have you lost your mind? Did I see what I think I saw just now?”

“That cannot be why you ended things with Fiyero. Please tell us you are just having a temporary bout of insanity. Or has she cursed you? We can report her and have her thrown out of Shiz. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

Galinda felt her anger rising. This is why she hadn’t tried to talk to them since she and Elphie had been dating. She didn’t need this kind of reaction. “Elphie and I like each other, and it’s none of your business who I date. I have things to do, so I’d appreciate it if you’d let me go about my day.” She stormed off, hearing whispers and seeing stares following her as she went. She didn’t care. She just wanted to get to the book place to research some things for dating Elphie. When she arrived, she found it thankfully almost empty, and she made her way over to the section on dating and relationships. Looking around to make sure no one was looking, she found the book she had been reading the other day, and picked up on the same section that had made her so embarrassed when she had accidentally opened it before.

A New Week

Galinda slowly opened her eyes to the light of the new morning. She looked across the room at Elphie, who was still in bed. She knew that she needed to get up and start getting ready because they had classes that day, but she was content to look over at Elphie for a few minutes. She had never thought she could feel happiness like this, like how Elphie made her feel. The way she felt snuggling with her, kissing her, it was all incredible. She smiled to herself, letting herself look for a few moments longer before getting out of bed. She turned and made her bed before heading into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face.

While in the bathroom, she kept smiling to herself thinking about Elphie and their two perfect dates. As she applied her skincare, she kept replaying all the moments of their dates in her mind. She thought about snuggling with Elphie and just being with her, how much she had enjoyed the kissing, and just how happy she had felt with her company. She couldn’t help the giant grin on her face. How had she gotten so lucky? Once she had finished the first part of her morning routine, she went back in their room to start picking her outfit. She would come back and change before PE so she could pick a different dress then, but she needed something for their morning study session and history. She started sorting through her clothes, trying to decide on her first outfit.

[honourablejester]

One of the things I do deeply enjoy about Daggerheart are the rules for mixed ancestries, which are nice and simple and fun. Basically, every ancestry gives you two features, so if you’re mixing them, mechanically you choose the first feature from one ancestry and the second feature from another.

(It is very specifically the first, as in first listed, feature from one and the second listed feature from the other, not just your favourite feature from each, so there are some limitations on feature combinations. But still).

You can have more ancestries in your family tree if you want, but they’re only for flavour, they won’t be represented mechanically. You still only get two features, no matter what ancestry combination you’re aiming for.

But I love that mixed ancestries are built in from the get go, and there are immediately some fun combinations that spring to mind for a combination of mechanical and flavour reasons.

One of the suggested combos is the ‘shroomshell’, a fungril/galapa combination, which is immediately cool just for the name. And, honestly, fungril with anything is really interesting. Both of the fungril features are weird and cool (either communication through the ‘mycelial array’ to other fungril across any distance, or you can extract one memory from a recently-deceased corpse on demand). The fungus people are cool and spooky, and a fungril hybrid with another ancestry immediately makes me think less interbreeding and more infection. Sporelings. A creepy-cool backstory to put on a character.

For a galapa mixed ancestry, my dragon turtle loving ass would love a drakona/galapa mix, for an armoured turtle with a breath weapon. Steam breath. Just. Dragon turtles. I love them.

But while I was thinking about that, a mobile little steam-breath character to roll out onto a battlefield, I started thinking about a clank/drakona mix. A clank with a breath weapon, built to mimic dragons. A flamethrower clank. Which. Horrifying built-for-war backstory, anyone? But also, going back to the steam-breath idea. An extremely steampunk sort of character, a steam-powered clank who can vent their steam core as a weapon. Or a fire-fighter clank. Which immediately makes me think of that scene from the Metropolis anime with the firefighter robots, which does give me a built-in soundtrack for the character …

Moving swiftly on. On a purely mechanical level, there’s one particular combination that I think winds up a bit unintentionally funny? If you make a human/firbolg mixed ancestry, you could choose both the firbolg’s Unshakeable feature, where they have a 1-in-6 chance to just not mark stress when required, and the human’s High Stamina, where they just get an extra stress to spend at creation, to make a character who is just ridiculously chill. They’re just unfussed. Not bothered. They’ve got spoons to spare. Don’t sweat it, kiddos, mama’s got this. You are a 7ft tall human-bovine mix, and you are the chillest person in this room. Heh.

If you wanted to go the other way and make an extremely twitchy person, the scion of elf and goblin parents might choose to have both the elvish Quick Reactions, to have advantage on reaction rolls, and the goblin Danger Sense, where you can occasionally force enemies to reroll an attack against you. So you can make an extremely skittish, jittery sort of character whose head is just permanently on a swivel over here.

If you wanted to make a sort of horrifying melee-oriented fairytale boogeyman over here, by the way, you could also get a lot of mileage by combining faun plus giant. If you take the faun’s Caprine Leap, which lets you bound around anywhere in Close range as if it was normal movement, including scaling walls and vaulting obstacles, plus the giant’s Reach, which lets you treat Very Close range as Melee range for any weapons or spells or abilities you might have, you have this horrifyingly mobile fairytale goat-giant thing bounding around like a demented demon with very long arms. All the better to grab you with and stab you with, my dear!

I just. There are a lot of fun options that the mixed ancestry rules open up? *grins* I really like my little firefighter drakona-clank idea. And my horrifying goat-giant. But there are a lot of fun options.

[tobeafangirl]

are you going to say it first, or am i?

Words: 4,917 Rating: M - smut (fingering, kissing) fluff, the slightest bit of angst Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader / Zayn Malik x Reader Type: Chapter (12/25) Previous ❀ Masterlist ❀ Requests

“Why are you so tense?” Harry and I were standing outside of the state fair. Only comes once a year. It was okay, nothing too fancy but it had become a small tradition of ours to go. We would ride a few rides but spent most of the time eating carnival foods and playing those “try your luck” games and failing each time. This time our plans were being interrupted by a certain someone which is why I was standing so tense as we were waiting for Gwen and Zayn to arrive. I did not know what the night had in store for us.  “Is there something I should know?” Harry was still out of the loop about the whole situation. He knew bits and pieces but that was all. 

“I mean,” He continued, “I know you and this guy have kissed but you are acting like there is more to it.” I glanced over at him, my lips pursed together. “Well..” I trailed off, sighing at myself. I should have already told him this, it's not like this was the best time to let him know but I turned towards him, frown slightly present on my face. “We hung out again after, I really thought we could be friends?” that came out as more of a question than a statement. It was true, I thought we could be friends. If he was going to date Gwen then, we kind of needed to be.

 “I know now that was stupid. When you came over that night when Gwen and I were talking, that is what we were talking about.” I did not go into great detail, but I let him know enough to put it all together. He nodded slowly and I watched as his jaw clenched for a split second, probably thinking about what could have possibly happened between Zayn and I. 

“I’m not going to like this guy, am I?” Harry relaxed a little bit and so did I. I shook my head, “Not at all.” 

A good fifteen minutes had passed before I saw Zayn’s truck come speeding into the parking lot. Harry and I watched as they got out of the truck and Gwen fixed her lipstick. They had been making out, you could tell from miles away. Harry rolled his eyes. We both were annoyed. 

“Sorry!” Gwen called out as they hurriedly made their way to us. “We got a bit um, caught up? Yeah, caught up.” She looked happy with her excuse. Zayn didn't say anything, just walked up with lipstick smudged lips and a smirk on his face. He promptly put his arm around Gwen. I glared at them. “No worries, shall we?” Harry gestured towards the laughter coming from behind us. I hoped that would be us soon. 

“So, Harry, this is Zayn.” Gwen did her introductions as we walked. Harry gave a friendly nod to Zayn, “Nice to meet you, man.” Such a gentleman, even given the circumstances. Zayn finally spoke, “Heard a lot about you.” He was eyeing me as he said that. I tried to shrug him off, I was sure Harry could sense how uncomfortable I was. “Likewise” And the way Harry said that caused me to look in his direction. He sounded displeased, aggravated, it was kind of attractive. I heard Zayn chuckle. I knew that was exactly what he wanted. 

“Okay, enough of that. How about we grab a bite to eat? I am starving.” Gwen tried to be the person of reason as she b-lined towards the bright flashing food booths that were set up. Harry and I both kind of walked behind Gwen and Zayn. He still had his arm around her but it had moved from her shoulder to her waist as he held her tightly next to him. I saw a look of disgust on Harry’s face and I could not have agreed more.

“Is this normal?” Harry whispered, leaning down to me a little bit as he did. “Yes.” I told him. Ever since our talk in the living room, they had been all over each other. It did not matter if I was in the room or not, in fact, sometimes I believed it only happened while I was in the room. There was no easy way to be happy for them. 

“Are we like that?” He looked perplexed but this caused me to laugh. I shook my head vigorously “No, no, no..”  And we weren't. Harry knew that being overly touchy in public was not for me. We saved that mostly for private time. Now, did we kiss every once in a while or hold hands, sure. I was not opposed to doing subtle things but Zayn's hand had slipped from Gwen waist down to her ass at this point and I knew it was because we were behind them. To Zayn, everything was a game. 

When we ordered, the look on the cashier’s face was priceless. Zayn got some fries, I think, while the rest of us at least got two-three things on the menu. “That is going to be priceless.” Harry mumbled behind me as I ordered a funnel cake. I shot him a look and he smiled innocently. 

It was clear that Zayn not only looked but seemed out of place among us. We have all been friends for so long and the only person here that was giving Zayn any kind of attention was Gwen. She kept giving me pleading looks to try and make things work. “So, Zayn, have you ever been to the fair here?” I tried my best to fake interest. I received a smile from Gwen, a strange look from Harry, and amusement from Zayn. “I have not. Any pointers?” Something flashed in those dark eyes of his. How could Gwen not tell he was openly flirting with me. At  least that was what it seemed like. I could tell Harry concurred with that too, because suddenly he was closer to me, answering his question for me.

“Stay away from the rides that go further than two feet off the ground, unless it is the ferris wheel. Girl-wonder over here” He pointed at Gwen. “Decided to do the parachute fall, she almost broke her ankle. I even think she puked.” Harry stuck his tongue out at the thought in disgust and I laughed beside him, smacking him on his arm lightly. 

Gwen shook her head as she retold the story, “It came down so fast, I could physically feel the bottom of that ride touch the ground. I think it crashed! They say ‘no that's how it's supposed to go’, I think not.” She was definitely exaggerating, “I could have died.” Okay, over exaggerating. Nearly everyone at the table laughed but Zayn. He was studying Harry and I. I could tell he had tensed up ever since Harry had moved closer to me. He did not like that.

As we sat there to eat I eyed the funnel cake in front of me. I had a childish grin on my face. I haven't had one of these in so long. The distant memory I had of it involved my mom. She used to take me to get one, most of the time to ask for favors. So, it held a bittersweet memory. Sometimes I missed her, but I knew I was better off on my own. “How are you planning to eat that?” Gwen pointed at my funnel cake and I shrugged, “Not sure but it will happen.” 

We rode a few rides. I definitely could say that Harry was a great distraction. He kept me smiling, laughing, and enjoying myself. I almost forgot Gwen and Zayn were there. Unless we could hear them. And I don't mean to hear them talking. Every once in a while we would hear Gwen squeal in excitement as Zayn did something a little too risque in public and Harry and I always turned to see them interlocked with each other in a kiss. They looked so uncomfortable together, like it was forced. And if everything Zayn told me was true, it probably was forced. We both did our best to ignore it though, exchanging glances to each other. 

“I think it's ferris wheel time!” Gwen was excited and so was I. Ferris wheels could be romantic. In the back of my mind, I was hoping we would stop at the very top so we could see everything and share a kiss or two. I blushed at the thought. I know that sounded like a teenage cliché. I was allowed to have a few of those. Harry wiggled his eyebrows at me and I stuck my tongue out at him. It seemed like we were on the same page. 

After waiting in line for a moment it was finally our turn. “Are you all together?” The operator asked. “Yes! Well, sort of.” Gwen tried to explain. “All of you hop in the next one.” The operator said lazily as he barely looked at us. “Can we actually get a separate one?” Harry spoke up, I smiled softly at him. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” Those words came from Zayn as he got into the ride, bringing Gwen along with him. She waved at us eagerly as the operator said “Now or never.” 

And there we all were, crammed in a small pod orbiting this stupid ride. My face was not hiding how upset I was. “We can ride again.” Harry offered to me but I shook my head. I was ready to go. Typically the ferris wheel was the last thing we did anyways. Harry nodded in an understanding manner. I think he was ready to go as well. Harry had his arm around me to be more comfortable and was pointing out stupid things to me to get me to smile. It worked. We were not on the ride long before the sounds of wet kissing filled the air. Harry shifted uncomfortably and tried his best to look away. 

Gwen had her legs in Zayn’s lap as they sat there kissing. They looked like they were putting their entire bodies into the kiss. Her hands were all over him while his hand sat on the outside of her thigh, her dress lifted up slightly. She let out a whimper and he let out a hum. I glanced in their direction and Zayn was looking right at me. His eyes half open as he focuses on me and touches another woman. I wonder if Harry noticed that as well. 

Gwen and Zayn had calmed down. Gwen was permanently wearing pink cheeks now as she was flushed and Zayn wore that same smug smile. When we made it to the top, the ride stopped and I let out an audible groan. Of course this would happen in this circumstance. Harry was looking down at me with a smile on his face. I gave him a small confused look before I shook my head at him. He shrugged a bit and raised his eyebrows. We were not about to do this, were we? The darkening of those emerald green eyes told me otherwise. Harry placed his fingers on my cheek as his thumb moved over my bottom lip, it was so slow it almost tickled me. Before I knew it Harry had positioned himself where he could move in and place a sweet, loving, kiss on my lips. It wasn't wild like Zayn and Gwen, but it was the kiss I had imagined for years. He lingered there for a moment before pressing one more kiss to my lips. 

“Dream come true?” He asked once there was slight space between us, I gave him a soft punch to the shoulder “Shut up.” I replied but the grin on Harry’s face was going nowhere. I could hear soft giggles from Gwen and my cheeks started to mimic hers. I glanced their way again and although Gwen looked like she was in a fairy-tale, Zayn did not. His jaw was clenching again, and his eyes were fixated on Harry, burning holes into him. I don't know what he expected to happen tonight, but it was not this.

Once we got off the ride and before Gwen could say anything else. I started to say my goodbyes to them. “Wait, you're leaving?” Gwen sounded sad, but we had been here for hours. She just was not picking up on how bad things have been so far. She was too caught up in a bad thing that she thought was good for her. News flash, it wasn’t. “Yeah, it’s - uh, well, it’s” I tried to come up with an excuse but Harry did that for me “It’s getting late.” Zayn let out a huff  “Of course it is” He was annoyed. We all ignored him, “Okay, well I should be home a little later.” Gwen laced her arm with Zayn’s and I once again found myself cringing at the sight. 

“Y/N is actually staying with me tonight, sorry Gwen.” My eyes shot straight up to Harry’s. This was not something we talked about previously. We thought maybe I could come over after, but there was no talk about staying the night. My eyes slightly widened as I noticed he was now the guy in the group that was carrying a smug smile on his face. He was making Zayn jealous. 

Gwen gave a look of amusement before smiling wide. “Good! Okay, yes, that’s great.” She winked at me. “You two be safe, in every aspect, okay?” Gwen was proud of that one and Harry chuckling at her was not helping, I shook my head as I crossed my arms. “Goodnight Gwen.” Harry said with a small nod. “Zayn.” Harry’s voice was filled with annoyance, this time there was nothing nice behind it. No trying. He genuinely hated this guy.

Once we got back into Harry’s car he slumped in his seat as he looked over at me. “He’s a dick” I snickered a little bit. He most certainly was not wrong. “I could have told you that.” I said with a shrug. I was happy that someone else said it. The way he acted, the way he carried himself, all of it. It was toxic masculinity at its finest. 

“He looks at you like you’re his property.” There was disgust in his voice and I furrowed my brows as I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that's definitely new.” Zayn didn’t act like that before, and I knew it was because Harry was there but still, it was different. I don't know if he thought I would have found it attractive but I did not. 

“I feel horrible for Gwen.” There was a sadness in his voice now, his hand was placed on his forehead. I couldn't help but agree with him there. Gwen had gotten herself into something I was not sure she was going to be able to easily get out of. I sighed as I nodded, “Gwen is grown enough to make her own decisions.” I was using her own words. Not that I agreed because I didn't. Gwen was not the best at making decisions when it came to her relationships, but it was an argument I did not want to have over and over again. 

There was a bit of stalling as Harry thought for a second. “I know but -- Y/N?” It was weird hearing my name come out of his mouth. It had been a while. I almost thought he forgot what my name was. “Yeah?” The atmosphere changed ever so slightly as I glanced at him. He looked worried. “Do you like him?” 

“No.” My answer was without hesitation. I don’t think I ever truly liked him. Just the idea of him. “And the things that happened between you…” Harry continued on and I shook my head “Was nothing.” Harry looked like he was contemplating what I said. I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t been forward about anything that went on between Zayn and I. It was normal for him to have doubts. 

I reached over, taking Harry’s hand in mine as I interlocked our fingers together. “Harry. If anything, hanging out with Zayn only ever solidified that this is what I want.” I gave his hand a light squeeze. “To be here with you.”

I watched as a smile appeared on his face. He glanced at me, giving me a look of adoration. “Now, am I actually staying the night with you?” I asked him, and he chuckled “If you want.” He gave a small shrug but I grew excited at the thought. “I want to.”

***

It never fails to surprise me at how compact Harry’s apartment is. It made my apartment look like a castle. He got a bit awkward when we walked inside and I smiled to myself at how flustered he was, slightly picking up small messes as he realized them. This is why we typically hung out at my apartment, but this was still nice. Something about it made it homey. Maybe it was because I was there with Harry who could make the strangest places feel like home to me. 

He walked into his kitchenette, fiddling with glasses as he did so. I wasn't even sure if he had a stove, it just kind of looked like a hot top in there. I giggled slightly. It amazed me how much I was noticing. Typically, Harry would usher me straight into his room. “Do you want some water or anything?” He called out to me. I shook my head although he couldn’t see me. “No, thank you though.”

The air was thicker, different from normal. This was new territory. I could feel how nervous we both were. He turned on his heels. “Bedroom?” He asked and my eyes widened. He was fast to figure out how that might have sounded, “I mean -- not like bedroom, but like -- movie. Do you want to watch a movie?” He was scratching the back of his neck now, face scrunched slightly in embarrassment. I laughed, seeing him frazzled always caused enjoyment. Calm, cool, and collected jumped right out of the window.

“Sure, that’s fine.” I followed behind Harry as he made his way into the bedroom. He turned on the light and I softly smiled. Always so clean here. The bed was always made, Harry really cared about his bedroom. Maybe it was his safe space. I looked around and noticed that his simple pictures had changed. There had been a fourth one added to his collection. It was him and I. It just looked like a random photo that we had taken one day, but I was full smiling towards the camera as Harry had his lips pressed against my cheek. This caused me to blush. This boy was astonishing. 

“Um - I can get you some sweats?” He pointed at the jeans I was still wearing and I nodded eagerly. “I would appreciate it.” If I would have known this was happening, I would have packed a bag to make things a little easier. Harry handed me a pair of his sweats and I made my way into his bathroom. I looked into the mirror once I got in there and took a deep breath. What was happening? 

I turned on the water and threw some on my face, the cold making me shiver as I tried to pull myself together. This was Harry. But this felt different. I began to take my jeans off and replace them with sweats. They were soft and smelt like his “special” detergent. It was Tide, I was pretty sure, but I let him have his secrets. I reached behind me underneath my shirt and unhooked my bra. If I was staying the night I was going to be comfortable. I stacked my clothes neatly on the counter before taking the short walk back into the bedroom. Harry had changed as well. He had on some sleep shorts and a plain white shirt. The way it clung to him caused my breath to hitch for a moment. 

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes trained on me. I could only bring myself to nod as I made my way to the bed and pulled the covered back. I got myself situated comfortably, Harry doing the same on his side. He ended up picking a movie we had both seen before and I wondered if that was intentional or not. 

At first, it felt like we were miles apart. He had a small bed, and we were both at our separate ends. We would brush each other every once and a while and each time I nearly jumped at the feeling. 

“I can’t…” Harry shook his head and closed the gap between us. He swiftly moved me so that his arm was around my back, practically laying me where he wanted, which was partially on top of him. I let my hand lay on his chest as I let out a small giggle. “That’s better” A sigh of relief left him. 

We laid there in silence until credits started to roll. I felt so safe in his arms. “We should get some rest.” He whispered but there was something hidden underneath his words. I couldn't quite figure it out. I glanced at the time. It wasn't extremely late. Usually, we didn't go to sleep until late in the morning when the birds were just about to start chirping. But I nodded, “Yeah.” I was unsure of myself at that moment, but I knew that agreeing was in my best interest. 

He turned off the TV and the room became quiet and dark. We started to get more comfortable as we moved further down onto the bed, “Goodnight.” 

He hummed and repeated “Goodnight.” back to me as he leaned his head down to catch my lips with his. The kiss was soft and lingering and my fingers tightened in his shirt in an effort to pull myself close to him. When he pulled back it wasn’t far, it was like he was weighing his options and I knew what they were. I couldn’t see him as clearly anymore but I could feel those eyes on my lips. 

The second kiss was a little more electric than the first, his lips pressing a bit harder to show just how eager he was. I kept up with his pace and tangled my free hand in his hair, slightly tugging it. I had come to find out he liked that. He hummed with approval and I smiled against his lips. He then began to move us to where I was on my back and he was hovering above me. 

It amazed me that our lips never parted. His tongue now danced at my lips and I was quick to let him in. I let my fingers run up and down his back, slightly scratching, another thing that he liked. That’s when his lips broke from mine and started to slowly trail kisses alongside my jaw before dipping into the nape of my neck. Each kiss he planted there added fuel to the fire. I tilted my head to give him easy access, and he responded by nipping at the flesh as a thank you. I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding in.

Harry’s hand made me shiver as it made its way up my shirt, lifting it up as he did so. His touch was soft. It was at this moment I remembered that I was not wearing a bra. I went through different emotions. Panic, curiosity, and lastly acceptance. I wanted him to touch me. No, I needed him to. However, he didn't. Before his soft fingers touched sensitive flesh, Harry pulled away, sitting up on his knees. I didn't know when it happened, but Harry was now perfectly sitting in between my legs. He took in the sight of me and I could only imagine what was staring back at him.

My eyes were filled with lust, my lips slightly parted. I was panting softly, in awe of the events that were taking place. He smirked. He felt proud. He should. He reached down and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. I bit down on my lip with desire. 

Before he could lean back into me I stopped him. I wanted to take him in. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the faint light of the moon outside. He was miraculous. No, he didn’t have a crazy defined eight pack but he had tone in the right places, I could see his muscles that he hid so well under his shirt. A smooth chest, slight abs. I was in love with my view. 

I took this moment to raise myself up. It wasn’t fair that he was the only one shirtless, right? I reached for the hem of my shirt and I was sure I saw Harry hesitantly begin to stop me but he didn’t. I lifted my shirt and tossed it to the side, letting my hair fall wherever it may as I tried to hide behind it. I heard his breath catch in his throat and I thanked the lord he couldn’t see how red my face was. 

He moved my hair out of my face and our eyes locked. Yes — there was lust in Harry’s eyes as expected but what I didn’t expect to see was love. He looked at me in the most cherishing ways, like I was the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. He slowly laid me back and our lips connected once again, this time in a tender kiss as his hands slowly explored my body. 

I was not an idiot. This was not Harry’s first rodeo and I knew that but boy could I also tell it. The way he kissed the top of my chest, down the valley of my breasts to my belly button, to my sides. I was practically whimpering, the area of my body being neglected that longed the most for his touch. 

I could not help the moan that escaped from me as he wrapped his lips around my already hardened nipple, my back arching into him as he did so. He hummed in response, the vibration sending more pleasurable chills through me. My fingers tightened in his hair while his right hands trailed down to the waistband of the sweatpants I was wearing. 

His eyes glanced up towards me and I nodded in approval. “Please” I whispered, I don't think he expected that and to tell the truth I didn't either. He kept his eyes locked on mine as his hand slipped beneath every layer of fabric that separated his touch from the area that was dripping with anticipation. His fingers traced the outside of my folds as his eyes intensified. “Say it again” His voice was deep and yet breathy. I shook with excitement as the word came effortlessly from my lips, “Please.” 

And with that his fingers dipped inside of me, slowly working circles over my clit as I tried my hardest not to thrash around. I was lost in complete ecstasy as continuous moans left me. A couple of them were swallowed by Harry as he would catch my lips with his from time to time, only fueling the passion between us.

He worked two fingers inside of me as I closed my eyes even tighter than before. “Harry.” I moaned his name as his fingers pumped at a pace that caused my nails to dig into the skin of his arm and my hips ground down onto his digits. 

My breath quickened, I could fill my pleasure building up to its climax. Harry seemed to encourage this, picking up on the hints and his fingers worked magic inside of me while his thumb moved over my clit in delicious ways. This was it. My back arched once again and I let out a cry I had never heard before, shaking as I held onto him. He chuckled in my ear as he placed kisses all over my face. I felt numb as my body slowly came down from its high. 

My eyes connected with his again. His eyes wide with hunger, mine half-lidded and lazy. The entire time I could feel him against me, how hard he was, I wanted to take care of him like he did me. I reached down to the hem of his shorts and he took my hands in his. I looked at him confused and he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Tonight is all about you, Y/N.” And with those words he gave me another outstanding kiss before he laid on his side and pulled me into him, making me the little spoon. 

It was hard to wrap my head around what just happened. My mind was still foggy. All I knew was that I was warm. Not just by his touch but warm with love for the guy who laid behind me. Tonight had been perfect despite the earlier events. Everything felt right. I snuggled into him as much as I could, a bright smile on my face and Harry gave me a small peck on the side of my face as his arms wrapped around me. I really could get used to this.

[mariieyuu]

Lin Ling x reader bc i love this silly guy

Tags: Fluff, gn!reader, friendship or something more? :o

Tw: implied suicide

You and Lin Ling have been talking regularly for a few months now. It's normal since you both work in the same sector, sometimes exchanging a few ideas here and there or reviewing each other's final products. An inseparable duo who are almost always full of enthusiasm.

It's not as if you didn't already know about your admiration for heroes, but something always made Lin curious. Whenever the topic turned to Nice (which wasn't unusual, since the boy was responsible for writing the scripts for his commercials), your extreme admiration for him was visible. This was something he genuinely didn't understand. Sure, everyone loves Nice, but there's not much special about him apart from that weird and annoying perfection.

Finally, after several minutes of talking about all sorts of things, Lin finally lets it slip.

— "Why... do you love Nice so much?" — The boy asks with some apprehension, looking at you curiously as he waits for an answer. After a short silence, the words slip out smoothly. — "I wouldn't say love is the right word." — You think for a moment. Surprisingly, no other words come to mind. — "To be honest, I really don't know how to describe this feeling. It's a kind of admiration, which yes, perhaps borders on love." — Fearfully, you look at Lin before continuing. With a slight lump in your throat, a soft smile forms on your face, before you look away.

— "A while ago, he saved me." — You said in a firmer tone. Practically forcing the words out of your mouth. — "He told me: ‘Even though your pain is intense, I know that something bright awaits you in the future. It may not be now, or tomorrow. But please believe, there is something at the end that will make it all worthwhile’. Those words are still in my heart today. And they motivated me to get this far." — Her smile was serene, but somehow melancholy. Lin tried to think of the situation in which Nice could have said that or how he had saved you, but gave up immediately. From the fear and sadness in her words, it was clear as daylight that this was a delicate matter, to say the least.

He continued to watch your expression for a few seconds before your voice broke the silence once again.

— "That's why I'm not giving up. I'm going to keep living to prove not only to him, but to myself, that saving me that day wasn't a waste. Don't you agree, Lin?" — He couldn't say what, but something in his eyes changed the moment he said it. Now it's a look brimming with determination, and more than ever you shine. Full of hope, you now shine brightly.

— "That's a great idea. Hearing that, I can see that Nice saving you wasn't a waste. Not at all." — Lin said optimistically, admiring your relentless determination. What he thought was just a "silly crush" on the hero turned out to be as deep as his feelings for Xiao Yueqing. As much as Nice irritated him in a way because he was so "perfect", maybe now he'll have some of his gratitude. Not least because he had saved the one he now considers his best friend.

— "Please keep living." — The phrase slipped almost unintentionally from his lips, and exposed his deepest thoughts. As embarrassing as it was, he had no regrets, and continued. — "I think... You saved me a bit too. It would be a shame not to have you around anymore." — Lin's heart beats faster with every word. But why? It's not like the two of you are something more, isn't it? This feeling is so strange, but it's also warm. Lin Ling couldn't help but feel even more embarrassed when feeling his cheeks burn slightly after he had finished speaking.

— "I promise I'll do my best." — You say, gently touching the Lin’s hand, who doesn't even dare to look you in the face at the moment. Yes, he certainly is adorable. Maybe one day he'll be able to admit what this "unknown" feeling he has around you really is.

The cell phone in your pocket vibrates. The alarm tells you that break is over, and now you're both going back to your grueling work routine. Maybe that's the price you have to pay for that little moment of tenderness with him.

— "I hope you don't give up either, Lin." — You reminded him softly, heading back to your desk. Nice wasn't the only one who saved your life, Lin Ling did it too. His kindness was the main reason you continued to believe in the words the hero had once spoken to you.

— "I will try." — The boy muttered to himself, perhaps trying to convince himself that your intentions were the same as his when he said it too.

[theaskscenter]

Mother I am officially sick of these people thinking we're in Malèna or something and sometimes the laughs makes me question myself when I'm having a bad mood yes I'm not embarrassed to say that .

Since I was a teenager,I always seemed to get attention no matter how basic and low confident I was inside and every body I get out with starts talking about how I almost broke everyone's head and how girls look pissed off but I didn't get it that much ... People scared me

I became confident and more into my looks bc I'm in the beginning of my twenties blah blah but it started to provoke people more especially women which always made it hard for me to have friends or real ones only when I was a people pleaser loser in school.and whenever I visit a doctor or something they think I've a big position here or that I'm a rich girl whose feet never touched the ground . *Had to mention this so you know how far it is going* the bad effect that it also went to the point where they'd start to belittle me by laughing or literally hitting me hard on the shoulders or pushing where there's no one around. I once got hit very hard by this woman I almost felt like my shoulder got broken for days. No exaggeration ~ and yes Ik when it's on purpose. None of them apologized.I'm autistic and I can't even bear that anymore but who doesn't love attention? I want to make it work to my advantage because having that much of a strong presence seems to be my ultimate power what's your advice on that ? I gave up on having friends for now too and I saw that matching my energy to what I appear to be -cocky and all that- is the solution especially while living in a small town, looking pissed off and a total bitch makes them shrink because why would a confident woman behave like that? This much attention bc of the way I walk scares me when I get home and my mind starts playing all that but my major and everything I'm into literally requires that energy and that strong presence and I need to know how to handle it(?)so ai can win . I deserve big and better places and my energy seems to be my golden spoon idc . I got a bit -maybe- paranoid to the point that I now I'm worried about how jealous ppl with strong positions would try to bring me down bc of this too so I really should know how to handle such people bc I don't only have it all but I'm super creative and have a unique mindset that also provokes basic people like them cause damn I'm no Malèna I've angel issues *anger*

First, I think I've said this so much that its beginning to sound cliche and losing its power- women don't like each other. Women hate each other. And its not even personal its socialization and mostly evolution. That girl's girl bs is just that, bs. IF women don't hate you its because you are ugly and not competition. If everyone likes you its because you are harmless. Feminine nature is competitive. Intercompetitive. Think 3 million years ago, what it was like to be female, you'll see its a necessity. When girls don't like you that's normal. Social media sells girl's girl so much you're just ugly and useless. The same way no one is fighting a child. The easiest place to see this is pop culture. For women, beauty is power. Men thrive in community thats why they defend each other like that they needed to be in a pack to hunt. Women have, since the beginning of humanity, needed isolation and power to survive. So while men hype each other up for being rich (For men money is power) women tear each other down for being pretty. Its just how things are fish swim birds fly yada yada all that.

Again. Look at the world around you and think. At least try. See how things work so you don't suffer for nothing.

Second. God, I love you. I love it when people ask the right questions instead of acting like my inbox is a church confessional and I'm selling good nice girl propaganda. I had to read this 3 times to make sure you are asking what I thought you are and yes you are. Made my sunday. I love hot girls amen. Welcome to my page and my space.

SO. HOW TO USE YOUR BEAUTY I can't tell you that because it depends on what kind of pretty you are. Your energy has to be complimented by your looks they have to go hand in hand. If you are the queen energy mysterious pretty like will Lori Harvey you should take the soft power mystery route everything else will be fake. If you are the babyface Tyla Jang wonyoung Selena Gomez pretty you have to take the nice girl pretty BUT people will try to walk all over you so instead of Hailey Baldwin soft power you have to take the Selena Gomez soft power. You have to weaponize your 'innocence'. If you are bad bitch pretty like Rihanna is you HAVE to take the big energy I'm the highest in this room and you peasants bore me path. Like Nicki Minaj does it. The strong outward power. If you have the kind of beauty that's contained like Kendall Jenner or Anok Yai you have to take the I'll mind my business and you'll also mind my business route.

I can't tell you what to do with it because I don't know it. And no I'm not turning the attachment feature for my asks on figure it out. What I can tell you is, for women beauty is power. Whether you use it or its used against you is up to you, but one way or the other it will be wielded by someone against another.

Did I mention that I like you?

Also on the topic, why is it important to you that people like you? Ladies I've said this before, if they don't pay your bills they don't matter. Like, if they did like you, then what? Would you sign a billion dollar deal? Now that they don't like you are you dead? Literally what have you lost that you can't live without? Human approval is so fickle and people don't matter that much. Also, and most importantly- do YOU like them??? Then who cares that they don't like you? This way of thinking is so weird to me I'd get it if they paid your bills but do they? Who even are they that this matters?

Also consider just being a bully to your bullies but don't go to jail.