#been a while since i read something that made me feel this ill at ease

[nicastamatis]

i really love the way that, rather than lulling you into a false sense of security, oshimi chooses to make every mundane moment feel foreboding... every page feels cloying and claustrophobic, even when its two kids sitting on a bench in an open field

[unclewaynemunson]

@bigskyandthecoldgun made this very big-brained post about the perfect miscommunication potential of Eddie's heart monitor betraying his feelings for Steve while he's recovering. @mostrizzaward asked me to write it and how could I say no to that :D

The first time Steve sets foot in Eddie's hospital room is terrifying. Eddie is as pale as a dead man. He has dozens of wires attached to his body, that are connected to just as many machines and monitors displaying complicated graphs, all softly beeping at varying intervals. Everyone in the room talks in soft, grave voices and all the nurses and doctors have matching serious frowns on their faces.

But what seemed to be impossible happens on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in April: Eddie opens his eyes for the very first time since he passed out in Dustin's arms. Steve is at work when that happens, but rushes to the hospital as soon as he can, and suddenly Eddie's room seems a lot less terrifying than before. Because Eddie is grinning at him from his bed, even though he's still pale and weak. He's not only alive, he's awake. It's a goddamn miracle. His wide grin is familiar despite the big scar that has marred his cheek. Fuck, Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to put into words how much he missed that smile.

Eddie rasps his name as a greeting and Steve comes closer to the bed. But then, something weird happens.

The machines around Eddie's bed are still beeping, but there's less of them now. The electronic symphony of noises has been reduced to a duet of two different beep patterns that are clearly distinguishable from each other. And one of them speeds up rapidly when Steve leans over the bed in an awkwardly angled attempt to give Eddie a hug.

“You okay?” Steve asks, worried. He wonders if he should call for a nurse.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie mumbles. His eyes flash towards the monitor in question for a second and a blush creeps over his white cheeks. He seems ill at ease; Steve can't quite put his finger on it but there's something weirdly awkward about the whole thing. He seems otherwise fine, though, so Steve decides no nurses will be necessary.

He clears his throat and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he wonders why he's even here. They weren't exactly friends before all of this happened. It would be perfectly normal for Eddie not to want him around – and yet here he is, visiting him in the hospital like it's the most normal thing in the world. What is he even doing here?

But then, Eddie starts talking about how his uncle was with him when he woke up and gave him this book he's been wanting to buy for ages.

“He cried, Steve, I've never seen him cry in my life, but he was bawling, I'm not kidding!”

Despite his animated tone, Eddie's voice is still weak and his eyes keep falling shut even while he is talking. Steve knows that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and let Eddie rest, but he finds himself too captivated in how alive Eddie is, even though his whole presence – his loud voice, his broad arm gestures, his expressive face – seems a little bit toned down. So when Eddie tells him with a vague gesture to his nightstand that he tried to read his new book, but found himself too tired to focus properly, Steve finds himself proposing to read it to Eddie before he even realizes what he's doing.

And then the weird thing happens again. Eddie starts smiling at the exact same time the heart monitor accelerates.

Steve chooses to pretend like he doesn't notice. Instead, he takes the book from the nightstand and flips it open on the first page. He starts reading aloud, but he can't really keep his attention on the words that come out of his own mouth. He can't help but feel like he made a mistake. Is the heart monitor signaling to him that his presence is making Eddie uncomfortable? Shouldn't he have left Eddie alone to rest when he started getting tired? Why the hell did he ever think it'd be a good idea to read to him in the first place? He's never been a good reader, and certainly not a performer like Eddie. So he awkwardly stumbles his way through the words on the pages, in no way able to keep up with the complicated plot and no doubt failing spectacularly in the use of voices and appropriately ominous pauses and whatnot. Whenever he glances up from the pages, he finds Eddie leaning into his pillow with his eyes closed and a faint smile around his lips, only to find out he's lost track of where he was when he directs his attention back to the book in his hands.

It doesn't take long until Eddie's breathing becomes audibly deeper and evens out. Steve softly closes the book. He allows himself a few moments to do nothing but stare at Eddie's face and be grateful for the absence of a breathing tube between his lips, showing that he's only sleeping this time. Then, he gets up and tiptoes out of the room.

***

The weird thing with the heart monitor keeps happening every time Steve visits Eddie. It happens when he greets him, when he starts reading to him, and especially whenever he helps him adjust his position in the bed he's still chained to. Every time they touch, every time Steve gets close to him in any way, like clockwork. And every time, it's paired with some kind of physical reaction on Eddie's part: a blush on his cheeks, a somewhat forced chuckle, or sometimes even a badly concealed flinch, away from where Steve's hands are touching Eddie.

Steve pretends not to notice it, for Eddie's sake, but it can only happen so many times before he has to face the clear and obvious truth here: his presence is making Eddie extremely uncomfortable.

One part of it still doesn't make sense, though: Eddie actually asks him to read to him or to help him sit up or lie down again, and the next thing he knows, Eddie will suddenly be avoiding his gaze and that goddamn heart monitor will make it sound like Eddie is trying to break a sprint record instead of lounging in his bed, and he'll recoil from Steve's touch like he doesn't want his hands anywhere around him.

Steve muses over Eddie's odd behavior for days before he comes to the only logical conclusion: Eddie is actually repulsed by him and is too polite to tell him the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense. It's just like what Steve realized so clearly that first time after Eddie woke up: they weren't friends before this, so why should they be now? Steve has no business being at his bedside all of a sudden, and Eddie doesn't have the heart to be mean to him and spell that out for him.

He can't even blame Eddie for it. For most of the time they've known each other, Steve was a major asshole, everybody knows that. Sure, they're twenty now and Steve has moved past high school stereotypes when he got close to Robin, but still... Those stereotypes made up everything about who they were, how they were perceived and who they interacted with for four whole years of their lives – six even, in Eddie's case. Eddie doesn't have any reason to want to let that go like Steve did.

He would never admit it to anyone, but the conclusion he reaches breaks Steve's heart: he should stay away from Eddie. Eddie has every right not to like having Steve around and Steve certainly doesn't want to add to his discomfort. He has been through enough, Steve wouldn't want to make this whole long and painful process of recovery even worse for Eddie by imposing his unwanted presence on him.

It doesn't matter that Steve has started to look forward to his hospital visits like they're the very best part of his week. It doesn't matter that Steve's heart starts racing for whole other reasons than Eddie's whenever they're close, whenever they're touching or whenever Eddie is smiling that beautiful smile of his. It doesn't matter that Steve wants nothing more than to keep reading to Eddie even though he still doesn't have a clue what that stupid book is about. None of it matters, because that's simply the price one has to pay for being an asshole and a bully in high school.

It doesn't matter, because there are way worse things than the guy you've developed feelings for secretly harboring a grudge against you. He still has Robin, he still has his little nerds, he even has Nancy back; as a friend, this time, which is honestly better than things ever were between them. He has the knowledge that Eddie survived and will be getting better with each passing day. Maybe he can start dating again, find a cute girl with blue eyes and blonde hair who doesn't remind him of the one person he can't be around, and it'll all be fine again. It doesn't matter.

Update: there's now a sequel post :D

[vxiphoid]

EXIXIR OF EMOTIONS

❨ summary ❩ genshin › more than friends? moments. is he feeling too much or too little?

tags ✧ gn!reader, fluff, modern au (?), friends to lovers, y’all are dorks, the sweetest of feelings.

amanuensis’ message ⊹ y’all are not just friends babes, smooch.

⌜ O.7+ ⌟

♫ lover boy - phum viphurit

genshin masterlist

CUDDLING.

“you’ll put me to sleep at this rate.”

“its not like i’m going anywhere anytime soon. i like you here, in this moment. just sleep.”

— there’s absolutely nothing better than hearing your beating heart while he rests over you. no better feeling than your hands carding through his hair, braiding a few small pieces he was sure not to remove. he listens to your absentminded humming, your muted whispers about how soft his hair is, and the delighted thrum of your heart. his hand finds your unoccupied one and you were quick to interlock fingers, a reassuring squeeze following shortly after. maybe a small nap wouldn’t be so bad, little did he know you weren’t that far behind him.

AETHER, kaveh, WANDERER, zhongli, shikanoin heizou, BAIZHU, ayato, gorou, venti.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

LATE NIGHT TALKS.

u up? ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀2:23 am (read)

been up ever since i heard your ringtone, are you alright? ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 2:23 am (read)

— you have a different ringtone from everyone else in his contacts for times like this. honestly, it doesn’t matter if you want to rant, call, or even plan something like going for a walk, his answer will always be yes. its the yearning need to hear you laugh over the phone, even if he did see you three hours ago. babble on about the first thing that comes to your mind, watching you light up as you spoke. he’s sure he has heart eyes as his pupils as he takes you in for the umpteenth time tonight.

XIAO, DILUC, childe, kaedehara kazuha, shikanoin heizou.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

LISTENING TO HIM GEEK OUT.

“sorry, i’m talking your ear off.”

“no, keep talking. i love your voice. what happened then?”

— its the complete adoration and love swirling in your eyes that makes him lose his train of thought. he notices when he turns to see if you’re still following, the smile adorning your face spreads wider under his gaze. what are you trying to do? give him a heart attack? don’t look at him like that (please do, he’s literally in shambles.) you’re so willing to listen to him even when you dont understand the topic. give me a night, ill have it all memorized and we can talk about it together, you’d say. how could you be so perfect?

ITTO, KAEYA, thoma, ALHAITHAM, tighnari, CYNO.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

D.I.YING CLOTHES TOGETHER.

“and then the needle goes through here…”

“please don’t poke yourself—”

— you texted him about some moss embroidery on a sweater you had saw on pinterest and he was already on his way to pick you up and run to the nearest store for yarn and string. he found two old similar sweaters in the depths of his drawers and you were quick to get to work. he could barely pay attention to his own stuff because your shoulder kept brushing his… by the end of it, made with your hello kitty bandaged fingers, on the very end of his sleeve was his own embroidered moss and your initial.

AETHER, BAIZHU, albedo, VENTI, kaveh, zhongli.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

DANCING TOGETHER.

“no but, what if i fall? that would be embarrassing.”

“i would catch you. always.”

— having his hand interlocked with yours has never felt so faultless, he’s been close but never this close. the amount of times he’s wanted to play with your hands but refuse because of the fear of making you uncomfortable yet you seemed so at ease grabbing his hands to mess with his knuckles at any given time. your hand that was splayed out on his chest traced little hearts into the fabric while you studied his face. for a second, he swore you leaned in.. that was until you stumbled on his foot. instincts kicked in quicker than he could react, tugging you flush against him. well that was embarrassing… even then, both your laughter, firstly stiffed, echoed throughout the atmosphere.

ALHAITHAM, ayato, DAINSLEIF, tighnari, KAEYA, THOMA.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KISSING HIS SCARS.

“why do you do this?”

“i want you to know i accept every part of you.”

— weither that be his hands, his arms, back, neck, waist, there’s no place that your lips don’t leave a tingling feeling upon his skin. it’s how you say hello, its how you say goodbye, it’s so frequent he finds himself counting the mere seconds of the intimate interaction. how you lingered for a second longer one day or a second less the next. you’ve found scars on him where he didn’t even know he had-including the invisible scar you insisted he had on the corner of his mouth that you’d pecked last.

AETHER, albedo, childe, CYNO, dainsleif, DILUC, gorou, itto, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, XIAO, WANDERER.

[giannan04]

Can you please do a part two to the Jungwon one shot you wrote!🩷

Ask and you shall receive! A few people asked me to make a part two to my Jungwon X F! Reader one shot (https://www.tumblr.com/giannan04/760529750415589376/i-neeeed-panty-fucking-with-jungwon-ill-love) and I was thinking of writing a part two, I just didn’t know how much people would like the first part! I’m so thankful for everyone who supports my writing!🫶🏻

⬇️Part one is listed here ⬇️

Pairing: Best-friend’s brother Jungwon x F! Reader

Genre:Slight bad boy x good girl trope, smut. Best-friends brother

Warnings: SMUT! Cursing (F word is thrown around a lot), God’s name said in vain like twice (I’m a Christian 😭) choking, p in v, cream-pie!, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP Y’ALL), oral sex (f! Receiving), choking, that’s about all I can think of.

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT!🔞

You were always the perky cheerleader, dedicated to your academics and looking forward to college—just like your best friend, Niki. Everyone thought you two would end up together, especially since you were the head cheerleader and he was the quarterback of the football team. Jungwon, Niki's older brother, never let you forget that. He teased you constantly for being a “goody-goody”, for being just like Niki. But Jungwon was different. He was the bad boy who didn’t care about school, dropped out early because he was next in line to inherit their parents' pharmaceutical company (it would’ve been Niki, but he wanted to be a doctor), and spent his time smoking, drinking & partying, and bringing a string of different girls home every week—-much to the annoyance of Niki and his parents. Deep down, you always knew Jungwon wasn’t good for you, but something about him drew you in, even if you couldn’t stand his teasing, low-key flirting.

——-

It had been hours since Jungwon fucked you (and your panties), leaving you breathless and wanting more. The heat of his touch still lingered on your skin, making it hard to focus on anything else. You couldn’t stop thinking about the text he had sent when you finished earlier, the one that made your heart race: ‘See you in my room later. I’ll make sure you cum this time ;)’

You were now in the living room, curled up next to Niki, trying to concentrate on the latest season of ‘Attack on Titan’ but your mind kept drifting back to Jungwon. The way he had touched you, the way he spoke to and took control of your body with such ease—it was all too distracting. Niki, blissfully unaware, sat beside you with his eyes glued to the screen, excited to binge-watch your favorite anime. Every time you even thought about slipping away to Jungwon’s room, Niki would either start the next episode or ask, “Where are you going?” and “Why do you keep getting up?” trapping you in place.

Your phone buzzed again. You glanced down to see a picture of Jungwon’s hand gripping his hard-on. His dick was pressed against his boxer-briefs, begging to be freed. You squirmed on the couch, desperate to get up and leave the living room, but every time you did that, Niki would play the next episode. ‘I’m waiting for you’, the text read. Heat rushed through your body and your stomach fluttered, your body itching to get up and leave, but Niki kept chattering about the show, keeping you in the conversation. You could barely focus. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to be in Jungwon’s room.

Another text came in not long after. ‘Wtf are you doing?’ Jungwon's frustration was obvious, and you quickly typed back: ‘I’m trying to get away from Niki, but it’s hard!’

Minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, feeling like house until finally, Niki groaned, clutching his stomach. “Shit, I shouldn’t have ate so many snacks” he groaned, wincing. He stood up and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna be in there for a while,” he added dramatically, and you watched as he dashed down the hallway.

This was your chance.

Without a second thought, you rushed to Jungwon’s room. The moment you slipped inside, you found him undressed, his lean frame illuminated by the dim light. He turned to you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Took you long enough,” he drawled, eyes raking over your body. “Strip.” He ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation.

You hesitated, suddenly shy, your hands trembling slightly as you stood by the door. ‘Why am I so nervous?’ you thought. ‘It’s not like we haven’t done this earlier… but still…’ Your mind raced. ‘What if he doesn’t like what he sees?’ You couldn’t shake the insecurity that crept in as you stood there, feeling his eyes on you. You couldn’t believe that you acted all impatient earlier just to be nervous in front of him.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing your hesitation. “What’s the holdup? I already fucked you earlier,” he said, his voice low and teasing, as he smirked at you.

“It’s different this time,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of your pajama shirt. “Before, it was quick… and I still had my cheer uniform on. Now it’s…”

Jungwon rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, clearly unimpressed by your nerves. “It’s not a big deal. Get undressed.” He palmed his erection with impatience.

Your fingers fumbled with the waistband of your pants before you finally managed to strip. You stood before him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, your arms crossed over your stomach and chest. ‘Is he really going to like my body?’ The thought kept looping in your mind, but you pushed it aside, trying to focus on the moment. Jungwon’s gaze softened just slightly as he approached you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. He reached out, his fingertips tracing the curve of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks,” you replied shyly, avoiding his intense gaze.

Jungwon didn’t waste any more time. He picked you up effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed; you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. He laid you down gently, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. Yet, as his hands roamed your body, he paused, sensing your hesitation. He pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. “What’s wrong now?” he asked, his tone sharp with impatience. “I already told you, you look good.”

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “I told you… this is different.”

Jungwon let out an annoyed sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Please stop overthinking it,” he muttered. “Just let me get to work. I wanna make you feel good.” You blushed. You wanted Jungwon. Badly. You knew he was right, you were doing too much overthinking about everything. “Okay.” Jungwon smirked at your response. He lowered back down and began kissing your stomach.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, his lips brushing against your skin as he moved lower. When he reached your core, he didn’t hesitate. He immediately flattened his tongue against your wet pussy lips. Jungwon’s tongue began to explore you, teasing and tasting, making your body writhe with pleasure. His touch was both demanding and tender as he focused on your clit, swirling his tongue and applying pressure. The sensation was almost too much, and you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets. “Oh my fucking God Jungwon. It feels so good.” You moaned louder, your fingers twisting in Jungwon’s hair as you pushed his face deeper inside you.

"Good girl," Jungwon murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your body. "You love this, don't you?" He picked his lips, using them to suck your clit gently.

The pleasure built quickly, and despite your exhaustion from earlier, your body responded eagerly. “Jungwon…I-I’m so close.” Jungwon’s skillful movements drove you to the edge, as he moved his tongue faster, and you cried out as you came, your body trembling under his experienced touch.

Once he was satisfied with your reaction, Jungwon shifted positions, his hands gripping your hips as he entered you from behind in a rough, commanding thrust, the sounds of your wet cunt filling the air. His dick plus the feeling of leftover cum from your last orgasm filled you with so much pleasure. The raw intensity of his movements made you gasp, each thrust hitting deep, relentless and powerful. "You’re so fucking tight," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "Already came, and you’re still so perfect for me." Hearing him praise you while he fucked you so good left you craving for more. “Oh my god.”

His pace was unforgiving, his hips pounding into you with each stroke. You could feel his balls slapping against your pussy from behind. “I’m going to make sure you feel every inch," he groaned, pushing you further, your body arching and grinding back against him. His movements were punishing, but the pleasure was undeniable, making you cry out with each forceful thrust. “Yes, Won, you fuck me so good!”

Jungwon’s grip tightened on your hips as he felt his own release approaching. "I’m gonna fill you the fuck up," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic and frantic. With a final, deep thrust, he came inside you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. The warmth of his cum filled you, and he stayed buried inside, panting heavily. The warm cum and his thick cock felt so good inside you, you didn’t even want him to move.

Afterward, Jungwon carefully pulled out, his eyes still intense as he grabbed a warm cloth, which he already had waiting on his dresser. He began to clean you up and you felt the care in his touch. "You did so well," he said, his voice a mix of praise and control. "Such a good girl, taking everything I gave you." You’re murmured softly, that was all you could do. You were laying there spent, made a mess by Jungwon.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as he continued to clean you. "Look at you, all wrecked and perfect," he whispered softly, a teasing edge still present in his voice. "Can’t even move after all that."

He helped you into his arms, covering you with a blanket and pulling you close. His touch was soothing as he rubbed your back, but there was still that familiar sharpness in his tone. "Don’t get too comfortable," he warned with a smirk. "Next time, I won’t be so easy on you."

He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, his hands lingering on your body in a caring way despite his earlier harshness. "You did great," he whispered, his voice softening. "You’re amazing." You really did like Jungwon. Besides how good he made you feel sexually, you could feel how much he cared for you. And he made you feel good about yourself. But you couldn’t help but wonder if Jungwon saw more in you than just sex.

As you lay there, deep in thought, Jungwon noticed the distant look in your eyes. "What’s on your mind?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You hesitated, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. "I was just wondering… what does this mean for us? Are we… official, or am I just… your fuck buddy?" You bit your lip nervously and played with your fingers, unable to meet his gaze.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you closer. "What do you think? You’re my girl," he said confidently, leaning in to kiss you deeply. Before you could respond, he continued, "I’ve always wanted you. It drove me crazy that your little “good-girl” self was too occupied with school and your friendship with Niki to see that."

He looked into your eyes, waiting for your response. "Do you feel the same, despite what you’ve heard about me? I know Niki told you I’m not good enough for you”

You nodded, kissing him back with equal intensity, holding him close. "I do," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

Just then, Niki barged into the room. "I knew you guys were fucking!” he exclaimed, giving you both a stern look. "Seriously? I couldn’t even take a shit in peace without hearing everything! And you’re supposed to be my company, Y/N!”

The tension in the air was thick as Niki stared at you, in the same bed as his older brother. You laughed awkwardly, attempting to break the tension. “Um, I’ll be right back down, Niki.”

Niki huffed, rolling his eyes. “So, are you guys like “a thing” now?”

Jungwon smirked mischievously at his younger brother. “Damn right.” He leaned down and kissed you, not caring that Niki was watching. Niki wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gross”, he said, turning towards the door.

Before he left the room, he looked over his shoulder, directly at Jungwon. “Just make sure you treat her right. I don’t play about Y/n.”

Jungwon held you even tighter, his face nuzzled in your neck. “No shit. I’ll treat her like a princess.”

You couldn’t stop the cheesy smile that tugged at your lips. You knew Niki wanted the best for you, but you had no doubt in your mind that Jungwon was good for you.

——

A/N: Y’all, Jungwon is a DOM and I will die on this hill!😭🫶🏻

[smehur]

More Harry/Draco fics I loved

I'm reading so much fic, I don't have time to read the actual books! And my Read Later list still keeps growing! Thank you, Drarry Tumblr, for feeding me so well. Here's a little something in return.

In the order of reading them:

Bitter Honey, Green Night by Faith Wood

An inn, an Auror, a criminal, a mystery.

I loved this story for the seduction, and the tension, and one of the most exquisite, most intimate sex scenes I've ever encountered. Even weeks after reading, it still lingers in my mind and I can envision it with almost painful clarity. I admit I wished the story went on: although the main conflict got a satisfying resolution, there could've been a bit more closure (read: another sex scene). Not a critique, mind you--if I were in the author's shoes, I'd have probably stopped there too--just the longings of an insatiable fan.

i was having visions of sugared pastry (cooked up in clarified butter) by infectiousdisease, solifuge

Draco Malfoy doesn't remember a time before his eating disorder. Not that he'd call it that.

This one gutted me in all the right ways. Draco with an eating disorder passed on from Narcissa clicked for me with frightening ease. It just rings so true? The unflinching depictions of his mental and physical illness, of his relations with his dysfunctional family and the bullying he inflicted on others made my stomach clench--and I loved it. I also loved how the horrors of the war were communicated as subtext, reflected in Draco's war against himself, rather than explicitly, to great effect. I loved the soft things too: Draco's relationship with Harry developing between the lines, the cathartic trial scene and the well-earned beginnings of recovery, all written in brisk, efficient prose that cuts to the marrow. An absolute gem of a fic.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Easily one of the loveliest stories I've read in this fandom so far. Draco is such an unmitigated darling; I rooted for him deeply, while fearing at the same time that he'd fuck things up irreparably, lol. And Harry, dear, pure, clueless Harry, with his long-time crush that's teased but never fully elaborated. There's also a little owl, heart-warming moments between Draco and his parents, his unrelenting focus on clothes and a scene where he goes jogging in a Muggle park wearing robes (and little else).

All that said, the end left me feeling weirdly cheated. (Spoiler alert!) Harry says it himself: it's not fair that Draco had their first kiss without him. Was Draco's exploration of the timeloop selfish, or just inconsiderate, or entirely justified? What would Harry have done in his shoes? Not gonna lie: I kept mulling over this for days.

Mortal Frame by tackytiger

Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining. The story of three pubs, one Horcrux, four overpriced sandwiches, and two damaged men just trying to make sure that Bellatrix Lestrange stays dead.

Oh, this was such a treat. Mysterious, atmospheric and reticent in just the perfect measure, it had me wide-eyed and heart-aching and mouth-watering. Most of my reading is about Harry and Draco getting together, and I'm always surprised when stories where they're already a couple (of one sort or another) manage to evoke in me such deep longing. If you haven't already, go read this now.

À Bon Chat by oknowkiss

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief. His biggest score yet is fast approaching and he's got everything planned down to the minute. Everything, that is, until the unexpected appearance of a newly-divorced Harry Potter. Now that Potter's in the picture, Draco's no longer certain if he's the pursuer or the prize.

Omg, this fic. I don't even know where to start with the praise. It is so well-written, and so well-researched, and it offers such insight, not only into our beloved characters, but into human nature in general. I still can't decide whether I entirely bought the ending or not. But that didn't lessen my enjoyment of the story; it even contributed to it by making me engage with it on a deeper level. I remain astonished and humbled.

Tagging the authors I managed to find on here: @faith2wood, @oknowkiss, @tackytigerfic. Thank you for enriching my life! 💚

[thecoffeelorian]

Hold My Hand (Crosshair x Reader)

Premise: This is the third installment of...what should have been a one-shot, but here we all are a long while later, so it's probably best to just keep on going down this road to see where it leads. Anyway, Part One was Understanding and Part Two was Red Flags, so if you haven't checked those out yet, feel free to do so now.

Story Notes: One small thing about the tagging system, if I didn't say it already: I hope to make a few more updates for this series, so just in case I am, in fact, keeping the folks who want to read and reblog in the loop, please don't hesitate to do so when you are able. If I'm not...you're welcome to ignore this from here on in, and I'll eventually stop tagging you altogether. Thank you, goodnight, and good luck.

Special Notes: As ever, the header was made by @stars-n-spice. Also, little shout-out to @talesfrommedinastation for inspiring me to use a form of sign language between two characters, one that was originally invented for speaking in deep space when the commlinks didn't work, and also mostly inspired by something similar in "The Expanse".

No-Pressure Tags:

@momojedi @moonstrider9904 @calicos-clones @bigboypantstime @youreababboon

@tink1221 @ms-grassi @galaxyglittering @ah-prick24 @littlefeatherr

@donntmindmejustwandering @housepartyfortwo @beatthisbi @urmomsmattress @mysticalgalaxysalad

@groguandthebadbatch @pendustt @weirdest-lights @flyiingsly @courtney0-0

@emmaflame1336 @briefexpertdeer @shadow-rebel-223 @littlemammoth69 @theosb0rnway

@shazkenobi @reader6898 @maxims-multifandom-corner @monster20045 @darkangel4121

@nevadastarrsworld @thatacefr @crosshair-lover @bennieandthejets-5 @jamine-boi-124

@lani03sstuff @ttzamara @beezez-blog @myeternalsin @sublimeclodkidcolor

@nish-xiii @ash04w3 @clonereeses @lllllmm @melymigo and anybody else looking for a tale that doesn't end in disaster.

🩶 It's my fault.

🩶 This one simple sentence, this confession, jolts through both you and Omega like a blaster bolt. It's more than enough to make the tears start forming in her eyes, and the questions to build up in yours.

🩶 He doesn't seem to be done talking yet, though, because what spills out of him next speaks volumes.

🩶 "I thought they would--protect us, but they lied. They've been lying this whole time."

🩶 By this point, his hand is shaking so much that you don't think about it, that you don't dare to ask any more questions for fear of making an already painful thing several times worse.

🩶 Rather, you're just moving in to take a gentle hold upon it, if only to offer him whatever comfort that you can.

🩶 To your own comfort, though, he doesn't flinch, pull away, or start telling you off in front of Omega even though you would understand perfectly if he did.

🩶 Instead, whatever's causing all of his ills today eases just a little at the moment of contact with you, because the next thing you both know, his panicked breathing is slowing down and his tense posture starts to loosen up.

🩶 This moment can't last very long, though, because as Omega quietly reminds you, she still has to call home and she thought she heard voices calling in the distance. There is literally no time to lose.

🩶 In turn, you don't mind bringing both of your guests to the old spaceport that used to be your family's business during the war, but since then has had to be converted to a ship repair shop like several more wartime industries have done on your planet. However, there are still a few things you can use here, because you haven't exactly let everything go to rust.

🩶 One of these things is the communication console, a somewhat rusted thing, but still able to access encrypted links like the one on board the Marauder. It's here that Omega hears the voices of her surviving brothers for the first time in what feels like forever, and like any other missing child would do, she's able to let a few relieved sobs out of her system.

🩶 She's also composed herself enough to plan her next few steps, for her next move is to go straight to one of Ryloth's moons for a pick-up...or so she tells the two men on the other end of this line.

🩶 You can only hope that this means she wants to surprise them, guaranteeing two returns of lost family members for the price of one flight, as the old sale slogan goes.

🩶 At this same time, though, Crosshair's got a surprise of his own, for as Omega's busy talking, he's busy signaling to you without saying a word. It's the old spacewalk sign language, the one developed by the first workers within the asteroid belt for when their comms stopped working...and right now, he's telling you that he won't be following Omega down the ramp when the time comes.

🩶 How come, you sign back, a look of confusion upon your face. Don't you want to go with her?

🩶 They'll be looking for two clones traveling together, not separately...and besides, I already know I won't be welcome there.

🩶 Oh...? And where do you plan to go, if not with her?

🩶 I'll improvise. Now...act natural.

🩶 Both of you fall awkwardly silent as Omega finishes her comm; then skips back to you with the most heartbreaking of hopeful grins.

🩶 "They're coming to pick us up," she announces, twirling around in place like a happy little service droid. "We get to go home, home, home!"

🩶  "That's--that's great, Omega," Crosshair manages, forcing out the words as though trying not to choke on them. "Just--don't forget not to leave anything behind, all right?"

🩶  That's your cue to signal to them to go back to the house with you--you definitely have to hide the extra used dishes and utensils until further notice, what decent person wouldn't--but before you do, you're careful to make sure that the shop sign stays upon the word "Closed". The last thing anybody needs right now is some pushy customer demanding service.

🩶  Once you take all of the necessary precautions, though...you have to take just one more look around this little home of yours, if only to reassure yourself that you'll return to it soon, if not eventually.

🩶  After all, just like your mother used to say, the galaxy can be a huge, scary place.

[mydarlingem]

gold rush

this actually kinda made me ill writing this hes so cute (he acts like this in canon he told me). i was gonna post yesterday i swear but it was actually terrible so i had to write something new. hope you enjoy! requests always open as usual.

cw. nothing!! hes just obsessed with you bc i refuse to write about a man who isnt

wc. 465

kiyoomi has loved you since he was young. you have always been the sun, bright and warm with him. he basks in that warm forevermore. he doesn't consider himself a poet but he thinks he could spend forever writing about how infatuated he is with you.

your warm skin next to his in the summer. it's humid and busy at the beach but the only thing he can pay attention to is you. the way your bathing suit hugs your soft body, and how nice your hands feel as they spread the sunscreen on his back. the light on your skin makes you shimmer, and he kisses you softly. you smile on his lips. he likes the way you look at him when he's shirtless, kiyoomi can't help the way it boosts his pride when you won't keep your hands off him.

sakusa slips his coat over your shoulders during the cool night breeze in fall. you walk back to his car, your arms tangled around his. kiyoomi is certain you have no idea where you are going, but you were so excited to walk through the night lights at the park. he will get lost with you anywhere, and though he loathes the unknown, you have always been the one to ease him into new things.

walks through the flower garden with you, when they are at their fullest in spring. you were so eager to take him, and even though kiyoomi couldn't tell you the name of any flower but your favorite, he is happy. kiyoomi hovers close to you while you talk, your voice always his favorite sound. in his head, he's trying to figure out which ones would make a good bouquet for you. you lay in the grass together, pinkies linked letting the soft breeze float across your skin.

having you wrapped up in his arms next to the fire while he reads to you. the soft vibrations of his voice lull you to sleep during the cold winter nights. he could stay like this forever, eternally this close to you, forever at peace. his heart swells with joy at the smell of your perfume and how warm you feel on him. it makes the cold thaw off his bones. it's so intimate like this, one of those nights kiyoomi will miss when he sleeps.

he spends restless nights laying in the quiet of your room and he realizes you are the only person he will ever love like this. he clasps your hands together and softly squeezes yours. sakusa has been devoted to you since he was a boy and promises to be with you forever made on the playground. now he's grown, the years have not made his love waver. now kiyoomi loves you like the man you deserve.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Hi

I have not been actively checking my notifs the past few days and will continue to do so for a while as I noticed that (in general) not checking tumblr has definitely improved my headspace. That being said, now that I am here I obviously have seen the kind and encouraging messages some of you have left me after my last text post a few days ago, through comments or direct messages, and I appreciate all of you who were kind and caring enough to take a moment and try to make me feel a little better, it once again means a lot. Some messages gave me the courage to write this post, as I'd rather not talk too much about myself here but some of you made it clear that you deeply care, so the least I can do is give a little insight on what I'm up to in a way. I also got a quick glance at some of the responses to my October wallpaper kick-off post and the fall/"spooky" themed edits, and those responses made me smile too. If you liked my last post you might be happy to hear that I have a lot more of those coming. Since fall and October in general is my time of the year I decided to not fully take my leave here but try and be creative with edits (in this case wallpapers/lockscreen ideas) instead of actively trying to write. I noticed I am greatly enjoying that for now and I have created a bunch of edits that will be posted through a queue from now until October.

Once again I am not checking notifs actively, I am not scrolling on my dash and I only open my dms every other day for as long as I feel I need to, so please know I am not ignoring anyone with ill intend, I just feel more at ease not trying to keep up as it has proved to be not good for me in the past. It's better to keep yourself out of the loop on your own accord and do your own thing really. But that also means that I will most likely not see what anyone tags me in, so if there's something you think I really should see please feel free to dm the post so I can have a look (that does not go for fics currently as I won't be reading those for a little while either as I try to focus on my own creativity).

Long story short really... the reason why I can't seem to fully leave this place is because I can't let my man's tag die down here like that.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter 24: When It All Goes Out

Summary- 5.8k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Returning from Florida meant returning to the last bit of winter weather and it hit with ferocity, leaving Duluth without power. Luckily Curtis is ready to handle such a challenge.

Warnings- Intimate sex and some talk of Curtis's past and his grandparents being ill from cancer and a stroke. Mentions of freezing cold weather? Is that a warning?

A/N- I had to throw in a winter storm because they are something I experience every year, along with losing our power when it is freezing ice cold and it is miserable. I need someone like Curtis who can make that experience a lot better! I also wanted to meet some more of his family and this seemed like a good way to do it. As always, thank you so much @what-is-your-plan-today for editing this, also thank you to everyone who has been following these two! Divider made by @firefly-graphics As always happy reading, Liking, Commenting, and Reblogging are so appreciated! 🐝

Chapter Twenty-Three / Masterlist

The end of February and beginning of March came in with the coldest snap of the year, the wind blew freezing temperatures off the lake and you swore you were moving to live with Jade after the fifth night you stood at your stove while stirring your pot of hot soup. Curtis was working on putting heavy sheets of clear plastic over your very drafty windows after he felt how much cold was creeping in, leaving your heat running constantly.

“I have plenty here if you want some dinner.” You muttered as you tasted the broth off the tip of your spoon. “But I’m sure you are sick of it by now?” 

Curtis was stretching to the tip of his toes to get the tape in place, giving you a glimpse of his pale belly, the Florida tan having faded away as fast as it arrived. You could feel yourself getting all wistful for the sun filtering through the palm trees in Frank and Jade’s backyard.

“Honey, if you're feeding me, I’m not going to have any complaints. Soup sounds warm and I’m still freezing from today. Sucks having to work outside on days like today. Should have seen Edgar. Had on so many layers he could barely move.” He moved back from the windows and checked the seams of the plastic. “Okay, I think this will help a bit. I don't feel a draft sneaking through anymore.” 

You clicked off the stove and hugged around his waist. “Thank you Curtis.” 

“I got your bedroom too, that was not quite as bad as these kitchen ones, but Honey this building has so many issues.” He frowned as his eyes roamed around your tiny apartment. 

“As soon as my lease is up, I’m moving. I’m not crazy about this place either. I was thinking about a little house next.” You said while easing back to the stove to ladle up the soup. “I miss having a garden to work in. I had the most beautiful one with my parents since I also lived in an apartment there.” You placed the bowels side by side at the table while Curtis picked up his supplies. “I always wanted a yard, with a porch either on the front or back of the house.” You smiled a bit at the thought of it, Curtis catching your wistful look while you daydreamed.

“You know my Gram had lots of gardens in that yard. If we can’t find the house you want, you can certainly use them.” He offered as you finished up the table with some drinks and warm bread that you had baked that afternoon, butter alongside it, because warm bread needed slathers of salty butter to bring it to life. It was something you used to deny yourself daily. Now you thoroughly enjoyed it whenever the mood struck. It started with you making it for Curtis, because he enjoyed it so much but now, it was just as much for yourself as him. 

Hearing Curtis mention the old garden beds at his own house made you perk up. “She did? Do you remember what was in them? Are they even still there?” 

“Yeah, they are still there, it wouldn’t be hard for me to rent a rototiller to break that ground back up for you. And she did everything, flowers, vegetables, herbs. There are some bushes and fruit trees back behind the treehouse that can probably be brought back to life. All her tools are still in the shed. Grandpa didn’t have the heart to toss them after she stopped being able to use them.” Curtis dunked a piece of bread in his soup and bit into it, letting his eyes slip to a close while he chewed, thoroughly enjoying his food. 

“I would love to revive your Grandmother's gardens Curtis.” You worked on sitting down but once again Curtis hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you to his lap, hugging around you. You didn’t try to pull away like before, just slid your bowl over close to his and took your own bite. You had to admit it was warmer in his hold, a feeling of security that you’ve grown accustomed to being with Curtis.

“Mmhh you’re so warm, makes me wish I could stay tonight.” He grumbled, knowing in this cold he had to keep his fire going and make sure his water didn’t freeze up. “She would appreciate it, I tried for a few years to keep them going after she passed, but it was so time consuming and I just didn’t have enough hours in the day and I just didn’t have the knack for keeping anything alive like she could.” 

“Trust me, I wish you could stay too. You are like a furnace when you’re sleeping, perfect to keep me warm tonight.” You chuckled, leaning into him as you took a bite of bread, savoring its rich warm taste. “I will send some of this bread home with you.” You twisted a bite off for Curtis and held it up to him, which he promptly took with a light nip to your fingertips. “Make yourself some toast tomorrow before work.” 

“You do that and I will just come back looking for more.” He teased you with a bypass on soup and bread for the curve of your neck, hitting that sweet spot of yours that always made your breath catch. Your hand lifted to cup the back of his head, making you breathe deeply while muttering a curse at him. 

“You're an absolute fucking menace Everett.” Making him laugh deeply, the vibrations from his chest felt in your back where you were pressed against him. “Keeping you coming back was my master plan though. However how about we go to a movie and dinner tomorrow? My Friday night treat?” 

“You wanna take me out on a date, Pretty Girl?” 

“Sure, gotta show you off once in a while.” You winked at him before turning back to your soup. 

“Well, I will be delighted, make sure I wear my finest beanie hat and coat you got me for Christmas.” Curtis promised, making your cheeks heat with affection at how happy he still was with his Christmas gifts. 

Friday you ended up waking up to a freezing cold apartment. You weren’t the only one you found out while you bundled up into several layers, your phone was flashing with weather alerts and school cancellations due to power. The cold snap ended up being matched with high winds that snapped frozen tree branches all over the place, knocking out several areas of power all over Duluth. 

You were bundling up in even more clothes, trying to remember all the things your dad taught you about what to do during a power outage like this when your phone rang with Curtis’s name popping up. 

“Hey.” You answered while curling up in your bed to get in the blankets. “You without power too?” 

“Yes, I woke up a while ago getting the fire going and making sure my water was running. Pack a bag, you should come stay with me. I’m going to go pick up my aunt to bring her here, Ella is packing up her and Sophia. It’s too cold for you all to be staying without heat.” 

You happened to agree and staying at Curtis’s sounds much better than your icebox of an apartment. 

“You are a literal knight in shining armor Curtis.” You made him chuckle into the phone. “Want me to grab anything?” 

“Nah, I got everything we need. If the car has a hard time starting, give me a call and I will pick you up. When you get here pull right into the garage.  The truck should be fine as long as I cover it from the wind.” He instructed and once you assured him you would be there soon, you hung up. 

Clothes weren’t much of a problem, you had plenty there. But you wanted to bring your laptop in case you were able to do a bit of work on it, plus you were sure Curtis had a small emergency battery you could plug it into to charge. You grabbed a few other things that you knew wouldn’t do well in the cold, including your tiny little spider plant you were just starting. You finally managed to get your bag of stuff you needed in the car and luck was with you as it quickly started without too much trouble.

When you got to Curtis’s place, going in through the garage, it was currently empty of any occupants. Your bag of stuff in one hand, your spider plant precariously balanced in the other, you called out Curtis’s name, not expecting any answer. “Guess it’s just me and you for now, Peter.” You muttered to your little sprig of greenery, making sure to place it in the living room where the wood stove was currently keeping the space toasty warm.

Figuring Curtis must be picking up his aunt, whom you had yet to meet, and Ella was coming with Sophia, you decided to get some hot water onto the stove, which luckily still managed to work with the flick of a lighter, enabling you to start heating up water and milk for drinks. Going into your cupboard above the stove, you brought down several teas, a container of instant coffee and a special mix of cocoa you had purchased with Sophia in mind. 

“Jesus Christ and tits, it's cold out.” Ella suddenly announced as she ushered Sophia through the garage door, holding onto her kid’s jacket before she could bolt off. “Get your boots off and go say hi to Y/N.” “I got some cocoa for Sophia going if she wants some.” You poked your head into the hallway to see if they needed any help. Ella tossed you a bag of clothes for you to take off her hands while she worked on getting Sophia out of the outside clothes.

“What do you say Soph, hot chocolate?” 

“Does it have the mallows?” She asked so solemnly and you nodded with enthusiasm.

“Unicorn ones. I picked them up last week when I was grocery shopping.”

Sophia’s brown eyes widened with excitement and she hurriedly wriggled out of her clothes while you went to set the bag of clothes in the living room. When you came back out to the kitchen, she was pulling the stool over to the counter to help assist in your cocoa making adventures. “Ella, you want anything?” 

“If you have any kind of coffee, I would fight my cousin and make you my girlfriend.” She shouted while she stuffed everything in the closet to get it out of the way. 

“I got instant.” you answered back while pouring the heated milk into a mug. “Careful Soph, it’s hot.” Grabbing the package, you emptied it into a flower mug for Sophia. 

“Oooh, they are pink and purple unicorns!” The little girl said excitedly as she carefully stirred the powder into the milk, changing the color to a soft brown color. She scooped a marshmallow and blew on it before biting it. “Mmmhh.”

“Perfect for today.” You agreed with Sophia while you made two more mugs, one with instant coffee for Ella and you drizzled some of your honey into another and a tea bag. Ella came in, pressing cold hands against her daughter's warming cheeks, making Sophia squeal and twist out of her mothers hold to march to the table with her mug.

“Ahhh, looks like I have to fight Curtis, good thing I fight dirty.” She wrapped her hands around her mug and stole a splash of warm milk and sugar to finish sweetening it. 

“I will be your cheerleader from the sideline. I am a great prize.” You snorted in laughter. “So what were your plans this weekend before all this?” 

“Oh Sophia was gonna go stay at my mother’s for an overnight while I went to the aquarium to help set up a new exhibit.” Ella sipped from her mug. “I will still go tonight if they let me. Right now everything is going into maintaining the generators, so they might not let any of us go ahead with doing the changeover exhibits.” she shrugged. “I’m actually okay if I have the weekend off. It was a pain in the ass touch tank, one that always is a bitch to deep clean those things.” 

“Momma!” Sophia scowled over her mug, sporting a chocolate mustache now. “You swore.” 

“Don’t worry, it will happen again.” Ella crossed her eyes at Sophia to make her giggle and went right back to her coffee and convo with you. “What about you and Curtis? Any plans this weekend?” 

“Ahh, we were going to do a little date night tonight when I got out of work. Movie and dinner, been a while since we have done that, but I don’t know how long this storm will keep the power out for. Staying in works for me though. I can spend the day in comfy clothes.” 

Ella shot out her leg to show the fuzzy pajama bottoms she was wearing sporting the batman logos and extra thick socks, one in bright pink, the other in purple. “I’m right there with you.” 

The rumble of a truck could be heard and Ella sprang from her chair to open the garage door. “Hey mom! Curtis! Just in time, Y/N has hot water going.” Ella’s arm wrapped around an older woman, half hidden in a giant winter coat and Curtis followed her hurriedly, his heavy boots thumping on the linoleum as if he was trying to warm up and get the door closed against the chill. You could just barely see him under his hoodie, which he shoved down off his head but kept his beanie on, pulling it down enough to cover the tops of his ears. 

“It’s like hell froze over out there.” He opted to kick his boots off and slip his jacket off to hang in the closet. 

“UNCLE CURTIS.” Sophia scowled at him from the kitchen table. “Bad word!” 

Curtis scowled right back at his niece, taking the effort to make a funny face at her to make her giggle into her cup as her expression went from serious disappointment to glee. “How much do I owe you now for the bad words?” 

“Million trillion gazillion.” Sophia said confidently and Curtis sighed with exasperation. 

“Kabillion? I might have to write you a check kid.” He continued teasing her. 

Ella assisted helping her mom, talking a mile a minute to the woman. Sophia waved a hand while she had her cup half tipped to her mouth, choosing to finish her precious unicorn hot chocolate before going to greet her grammy and uncle. You just stayed quiet, sipping your tea and watched everyone greet each other in a chaotic manner. 

“Froze over and then decided it still wasn’t cold enough.” Ella confirmed Curtis’s statement while the trio went into the kitchen. “Y/N, have you met my mother yet?” 

“No, but I’m glad you were able to come.” You held out a hand and the woman, who was on the shorter side of the family, just coming up to your own shoulders meaning Curtis and Ella towered over her, looked at your hand and swept it away as if offended. 

“I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like we’ve already met.” She wrapped her arms around you, catching you by surprise. “Call me Lisa.” 

You were quick to recover with a swift smile and nod. “Sure Lisa. You must be frozen, please come to the table so I can make you something.” 

The woman accepts graciously, letting you lead her away while Ella gathers boots to tuck away and Curtis finishes hanging up winter clothes in the closet. They could hear Lisa start right in about how the kitchen table had been her parents and had many similar days, spent around it warming up after a cold winter day with ‘coffee strong enough to keep you awake for days.’ Making you laugh as you joined Lisa and Sophia at the table. 

“See that, fits right in. Mom loves her.” Ella winked at Curtis who gave an eye roll, but he couldn’t keep the grin at bay seeing how relaxed you were alongside his niece and aunt, comfortable as could be. 

The day was soon filled with activities to pass the time now that Curtis was sure everyone was able to stay warm. Several games were dragged out from the top living room bookshelves, helping make them kid-friendly so Sophia could play. 

The small wood stove in the living room kept the house heated for the most part and when it came to the evening, you started to light candles while Curtis went to retrieve some of his grandparent's old oil lamps from the garage. The house felt lively as the rest of the world almost felt shut down, at least in their part of Duluth. 

The oil lamps cast a warm glow around the living room, Curtis making sure to set a couple near where his aunt was curled on the couch, working on a project with her crochet hook and a large bag near her full of bright colored yarns. 

Sophia and Curtis were playing some game nearby while Ella worked in the kitchen, picking up from the meal earlier. You sat on the other end of the couch, taking a breather after the chaos of the day, Ella having chased you from the kitchen claiming she had it all under control. You also didn’t want Lisa to be alone and although you didn’t know her, felt better giving her some company. 

The woman was just as friendly as Curtis and Ella, her eyes lifting from her project with a smile. “Dinner was fantastic Y/N, you can make me chili any time.”

You eased a bit at her friendly welcoming tone. “Thanks, it was the only thing I could come up with that didn’t require the power for the oven.” 

Lisa laughed, hooking her string around her finger, and with a flash her hook was back to a whirl of movement. “My parents always went to beans and hot dogs.” Her eyes flashed and a soft smile curled her mouth at the memory. “You will get creative. This happens quite often up here this time of year. I keep telling Curtis he needs to replace the generator, it’s on his to-do list.” Lisa leveled you a look, making you giggle a bit. 

“He has a long to-do list?” 

“So he claims. But he has done a good job on this old place. It was a lot rougher a few years ago when Dad was sick. A lot of repairs needed to get done, these old houses as sturdy as they are, are also always falling apart.” Lisa said softly while she started another row. “Curtis moved back in when mom got sick and for that, I’m always going to be grateful to him.” 

You nodded, curious as you hadn’t heard much about this time in Curtis’s life. “It must have been hard for all of you when that happened.” 

Lisa nodded in agreement as she twisted her project, inspecting her stitches. “Cancer is harsh. Mom refused to be sad about it though and I think that kind of took a toll on Dad and Curtis, because they weren’t able to be sad about it either. At least not near her. Then after Mom passed, Dad just went downhill, heartbreak.” She said, sighing as she glanced at you. “Then when he had his stroke, Curtis stayed to help take care of him too and make sure he wasn’t living alone.” The older woman seemed lost in her memories for a moment till she glanced at you, seeing that you were paying attention. “I’m sorry, this is a heavy conversation after we just met.” 

“It’s okay.” You assured Lisa with a genuine gentle smile. “It helps to talk about them. Curtis mentions things once in a while. I know he misses them a lot.” 

“Sometimes that boy keeps way too much buried inside, always being the one who takes care of everyone.” Lisa smiled thankfully, giving a small glance around the room that she had grown up in, as well as her daughter and nephew, now her granddaughter would have memories as well

“We all keep too much inside, why I agree with you. It does help to talk about them. I’m glad Curtis still does. Do you crochet?” She held up her project in question. 

“No, that's one I have never gotten to try. I sew costumes for the drama club. But I always wanted to learn.” 

“Well get over here, I got more hooks and plenty of yarn, let me teach you.” Lisa set her project aside and pulled up her bag. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Oh um, I love almost anything.” You peered into the bag and she pulled out a spool of greens that reminded you of summertime. 

“You can use this, I have more at home. Okay, so we are going to start with a loop…” 

You got engrossed in the lesson, and you and Lisa lost track of the other people in the house. Not by Curtis though, once in a while he would wander into the brightly lit living room to check on the fire, which didn’t actually need any tending. 

Seeing you bite on your lip as you slowly mimicked Lisa’s movements, you looked like you were enjoying yourself. This felt right to him, this made his house feel like home. 

You shivered as you crawled into bed that night, using a flashlight to see in the dark upstairs, opting to keep the lanterns downstairs for Ella and Lisa to use. Outside the wind howled and made tree branches scrape ominously against the side of the house, adding to the slightly spooky feeling that having the power out so long gave.

“Damn, it's still so cold.” You tucked yourself under the multitude of blankets covering Curtis’s bed. “You sure everyone is all good downstairs?” You asked quietly when Curtis came into the bedroom, sporting a steaming cup for you. You gratefully took it, wrapping your hands around the hot mug to warm your fingers up. 

“They are, it’s warmer down there than it is in here.” Curtis assured you, easing the door partially shut for a little privacy. 

Downstairs, Lisa ended up in the bedroom just off the kitchen which Curtis was sure to have the door open for the day to warm it up and in the living room you and Ella opened the pull-out couch, equipping it with plenty of blankets for them. 

Curtis managed to stir up the fire and refill it with wood for the next few hours just before coming up the stairs and from somewhere in the depths of the old house, you thought you felt it sigh in peace as all the occupants settled for the night. “Okay. I just wanted to be sure everyone is comfortable.” 

You sipped on the warm tea while watching Curtis hurry brushing his teeth and changing into his gray sweatpants and a hoodie. “I gave the stove a good amount of wood, it should warm up a bit more up here too.” He slipped in next to you, pulling the blankets up high around the two of you. 

You curled up closer, sliding your hands under his shirt to press against his warm chest while he wrapped an arm around you, mimicking the move against your back. “Your hands are freezing Curtis.” You whined into his hoodie. He promptly started rubbing them against your back to heat them up. 

“Better?” He rumbled sleepily and you hummed a sleepy yes. “Thank you Honey, for everything you did today. I’m sorry we didn’t get to go do that date though.” 

You lifted your head enough to look up at him, smiling up at him. “You are welcome Curtis and we have other nights to go on a date. I had a great time today.” You cuddled in closer. 

It didn’t escape Curtis’s notice that you didn’t brush off what you did today like it was nothing. You happily accepted his thanks because you deserved it. You whispered a good night, passed a quick kiss, and curled up comfortably next to him. 

It was almost pitch black in the bedroom when you were woken, the air chilly on your nose but you felt a warm breath against your ear, a press of chapped lips and the scratch of Curtis’s beard against the curve of your neck.

“Mmhh Curtis?” You muttered as you felt his hand slide under the sweater you wore to bed to keep warm. 

“Shh Pretty Girl.” He nudged at you lightly with his hips, pressing himself against you. 

Really pressed against you, you could feel him hard through the layers you both were wearing. “Our door is open and they will hear us downstairs.” 

That sent an excited little shiver to escape as he continued to kiss on whatever skin he could find. His hand moving aside your hair while he nipped at your sensitive place where your pulse fluttered in excitement. “You sure?” You gave a little throaty whine when his hand under your shirt squeezed a breast. 

“Fuck yes. You made me so fucking happy today when it could have all gone to shit, you made everyone so comfortable and feel welcomed.” He admitted to you in hushed whispers. “I thought I could ignore how much it turned me on, but I just don’t want to anymore.” 

You arched into his touch again, wriggling back against his broad chest. “That really got you this worked up?” You asked curiously. 

“Yup.” was all he muttered as his hand moved out from under your shirt and he pulled the blankets over the two of you to cocoon you underneath. You eased to your back as he pulled over the top of you, holding himself up on his elbows while he started kissing you softly, pressing his lips against yours, over and over till you both started to relax into the sensation. 

It was making your half-asleep mind go all fuzzy and warm feeling him press himself over the top of you and continue kissing you. Now his tongue slid over your teeth and pressed against your own tongue, making you both moan at the sensation of one another. Your fingers curled into his hoodie, to pull him harder against you, his hips snug against yours and rocking into you. 

“You might have to keep me quiet.” You whispered when you both broke, your head tilting back so he could once more kiss on your jaw, another moan escaping him as he rocked into your soft body once again. 

“I always got you Honey. Lift your hips.” He pulled up just a bit, enough for you to push at your sweats to work them off with his help. Under the blankets everything was muffled, the blankets keeping you both warm and snug stretched around you both. More kisses soon distracted you both for a moment, your bare legs hooking around Curtis’s thighs which were still encased in his soft worn sweats that always drove you crazy. You mumbled against his lips, panting slightly to catch your breath. 

“You still have too many clothes on Curtis.”

He tilted his head to catch your earlobe, sucking on it, his chin a sensual scrape against your neck that sent a shiver down your spine. Your hands dragged down his muscled back, tugging at his sweatshirt to pull it off to touch bare heated skin. He mimicked the action, making you lose your shirt over the edge of the bed. “Fuck.” He hissed as you ground yourself against his groin again, needing that friction. The fabric of his sweatpants rough against your sensitive clit. Your nails pushed down the last dip of his lower back and under the band to grab onto his flexing cheeks and pull him harder against you. Suddenly he shoved at his pants, pushing them low enough for his cock to spring free, needing them off now. 

You pulled up once more to kiss him, sighing against his mouth at feeling his cock press against you and he eased himself into you with a matching satisfied sigh, his weight pressing over you into the mattress. Easing your hands up to spread over his cheeks and running your thumb over his bottom lip before placing more soft kisses on his mouth, you felt his expression under your fingertips, the slight curve of his mouth pressing against yours made you smile against him.

You both kept the kisses light, brushes of lips against one another and rubbing noses while Curtis barely rocked himself against you. He rose on his elbows enough to touch his forehead to yours, his fingers burying into the hair along the side of your head while he rocked into you with soft grunts. You soaked into the feeling of him, easing your hips to meet him with a slow unrushed arch. 

It was different, no chasing and encouraging one another to finish, but just enjoying the feeling of your bodies pressing against each other. You let your hands slide down off his cheeks to the side of his neck, closing your eyes as your fingertips traced tendons flexing whenever he tensed in his movements and then down to his muscled shoulders. You sensed him shifting, the brush of his beard against your neck making you moan against his ear while his weight sunk on you. The hair of his chest tickling your breasts till he pressed against your soft body. 

You felt the groan in the hollow of your throat as he skimmed his mouth against you. “You always feel so good under me Honey.” Heat spiraled up your spine as you made yourself softer against him, your thighs rubbing up and down against the side of his hips and circling a leg to hook over his rocking ass to press him in closer. You wanted to drown in this feeling with him, make it last forever. 

His fingers tightened just enough to move your head to tilt towards him, his lips resting against yours while your gazes locked, sharing each other's soft pants. 

Thick lashes framed around his shining blue eyes, his pupils wide, searching yours while you were sure your gaze had a similar expression, except when he tilted his hips into the gentle rocking and Curtis pressed against you in a way that made you tighten around him, your eyes fluttering up as your breath hitched. “What are you thinking about Curtis?” You pondered in a whisper before pressing your mouth more to his. 

You couldn’t get enough of this intimacy you were sharing with Curtis. Sex had always been good for you two, but this felt different. You felt him everywhere and you felt just as seen, barely breaking your gazes unless some sensation rocked through one of you, making your bodies so good while embracing the sensation. 

But you two always relaxed again once it passed, sharing in the moment. 

You felt Curtis groan against you, the vibrations pressed into your chest as you rocked once more to meet him till he slowed even more. “How good this all feels.” He finally whispered against the curve of your neck where he buried his face. You thought he was talking about this moment alone and arched up into him slightly, running your hands down his back, feeling more of him, wishing you weren’t already building up to a release. “You in my home, fitting so fucking good in my life.” More kisses pressed against your pulse as he rocked back into your wanting body. 

You grabbed at the back of his head to press him closer as he kept talking. “How life just feels so sweet with you Honey.” You smiled and it felt so good to smile in this moment, when you were feeling so close with Curtis. It sent an urgency racing through you, unable to stop the sultry moan escaping as your head tipped back and you tightened around Curtis. His head lifted to watch you come undone, keeping up the slow dragged pace he was using, rubbing his hips into yours while your hot velvet heat clamped around him, the rush of your orgasm made him grin.

“Fuck you are so sexy when you come. Come on Pretty Girl, let me feel you. Just give in.” He encouraged, soft kisses pressing against your forehead and side of your face before he pulled back again to watch you. 

You rutted your chin up as you pressed back into the pillows, another moan escaping while your body broke in the softest way. You rode the high that felt like a warm wave washing over you when it passed, making you want to curl up in his hold, against his tattooed chest and soak in all of his touches that always made you feel beautiful. This wasn’t just your orgasm, it didn’t belong to you this time. 

This was his, this one belonged to him so you let him see how good it did make you feel. You let your arms circle around his neck and pull his face towards yours, letting your forehead lean into his, sharing a deeper kiss that poured all you were feeling and was so close to saying. 

Curtis watched your face meld into euphoria, which is all he ever wanted to do since the day he saw you standing on the bus steps with your students piling up behind you. You smiled so sweetly at him and he wanted more of that. He was always going to want more of that. 

Your nails raked gently up his back, your thighs pressing in closer to touch your foot against the top of his ass, pushing him down to bury in you. “I’m going to feel you for days Curtis.” You whispered with a satisfied moan. “It’s your turn. Fill me up Baby.” You begged, so sweetly with nipping kisses to his jaw and along his neck, your body arched under his, pressing all your curves he was passionate about against him. “You feel so good inside of me. I don’t want this to stop.” 

Curtis felt the rush you gave him with your words, the pull in his body to fill you with his spend was so intense, that he sped up. He grabbed your hip to keep you against him and you begged him for it till he spilled with a sharp yell of your name and he pinned you under him while warmth spread through you and he made no move to pull out. . 

You felt him relax with a groan, hugging you to him and refusing to let you move just yet. You didn't try to pull away but clung to him, both of you warm inside and out.

[a-very-fond-farewell]

Hello!! I'm very curious about the Far From the Madding Crowd draft (also I see that Auditors/Unicorn crossover) 👀

I am ashamed to report that the Far From the Madding Crowd project was mostly inspired by the movie rather than the book, but this didn’t stop me from reading the book after me watching it (for Researching™️ purposes 💪😤)... but my writing project never got to ch3 even ahah 🤣 mostly bc I wasn’t confident in my English and bc Hardy likes his fictional places too much and I got distracted learning about all the fancy names he used for his beloved Wessex.

so. it was supposed to be set after the end: Gabriel and Bathsheba manage to dig Boldwood out of prison through a royal pardoning and make him their gamekeeper.

since Boldwood has not being sentenced to death and was made to stay in “confinement during Her Majesty’s Pleasure” (so, technically, indefinitely) after claiming insanity, I figured he would have been sent in one of those forced labor prison quarries for debt-collectors (or something on those lines) known in the Victorian era to be awful places to be at the time. I researched the system of the allotted working hours a day to earn “tickets” to get out of prison, the eventual move to Australia for the luckier ones, how life was shaping up to be for someone getting out of prison etc...

I wanted to explore the concept of a land-owner turned prisoner as he struggles to find his way back to his hometown. the people who found a way for him to get out of prison are well-meaning, but they don’t know what he went through. it’s unheard of for a murderer like him to have been granted to leave prison too, so the people who used to work for him in the fields are wary of him now, new workers adding to the fuel of the rumors being spread about him.

moreover, I still wanted to show how the church usually was made to be in charge of a reintroduced criminal’s redemption, asking him to sing in the choir and do errands for the poor, forcing him to go to mass and then listen to Sunday lectures in the afternoon with the local children as if he were not an adult anymore. in this situation, Boldwood would have felt less than human, his mind spiraling back to his prison days, especially his first few years of confinement in isolation. so I would have liked for people who had known him for a long time to be kind and understanding to him despite the social stigma, while newcomers would have been less eager to be associated with him.

the married couple now handles both of the neighboring domanins, but the larger one is mostly empty for the majority of the time. Boldwood is made to live in a small cottage away from the rest of the townsfolk and the workers, so he is able to see his old house only occasionally, feeling like a ghost haunting it’s grounds when keeping watch. he cannot handle kindness anymore and feels out of place with new clothes and good food on his plate, his body arguing with him due to his new limitations.

feeling misguided anger towards the woman he went to prison for while feeling unworthy of her, Boldwood can’t stand the sight of her and only manages to interact with her husband due to his gentle and understanding nature, but he still cannot fathom why they have picked the smaller residence rather than the larger one to live in, or why they wanted him back to begin with. he feels mocked and wronged and lonely above else.

in truth, after getting their happy ending, the Oaks had started to feel guilty about living there while he rotted in prison, feeling indebted to him for freeing them from Troy’s poisoning presence in the past. they thought that bringing him back from his confinement would have eased their conscience, but they found themselves unable to handle his new temperamental nature and mood swings, only hoping to treat his newly acquired illnesses after years of forced labor as a way to welcome him back into their lives.

it was meant to be a healing journey through kindness and simplicity, while still eyeing the changing expectations of society at large with a focus on how even someone of the gentry like Boldwood would have struggled to be back into the world.. especially since he was not that well bred to begin with and only had barely enough connections to survive the death penalty. still a murderer, no matter the circumstances, Boldwood would try to atone for his sin by denying himself happiness, feeling guilty for having wished for love when that should have been precluded to him long ago.

I wanted it to be a mixture of Crime and Punishment and Elective Affinities, and if the poly agenda won in the end.. what then?? XD

but since it didn’t happen.. now I have a bunch of trivia about Victorian prisons to yap about to unsuspecting friends :D

[princessasmosprincess]

Charmed, I'm Sure

Chapter 12

Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you.

Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC

Genre: Drama, angst

Warnings: Vomit mentioned.

***

You didn't end up making it to first period.

You needed to fill your stomach with something, opting for dry toast and a thermos of mint tea, both of which took a little time to prepare. A dull headache remained but there was nothing you could do about that at the moment.

Mammon was on edge by the time the two of you walked to RAD, he was sure Lucifer would string him up for your tardiness. You’d have to come up with some sort of excuse, it wouldn't be fair for him to get caught in the crossfire.

As you began typing your apology message to Lucifer, you thought about the love potion again. Would it even work now?

You had the perfect chance to test it out in your next class: Seductive Speechcraft.

“For today’s class you will be peer reviewing the letters you wrote for homework.” said the professor. “Split into pairs and take turns reading each other's letters out loud. Put yourself in the mind of a potential human target. Would this letter work on you?”

Several students were already clamoring to be paired with Asmo. Hopefully it wouldn't end in a brawl like last time.

He felt a light tap on his shoulder.

“Asmo, would you be my partner?” It was you who asked him.

He’d seen you rush into the classroom right as the bell rang, looking disheveled and a little fatigued. Not at all bright eyed as you’d been that morning, not that he’d been paying attention to something like that.

Now as you stood in front of him, holding your letter, you looked hopeful and almost… nervous. Asmo didn't mind that reaction at all. His immense beauty was intimidating to some.

“You’re not going to run away from me again, are you?” he sniffed.

“That wasn’t–” A strange look crossed your face, almost as if you were going to be ill. “I– I almost left my homework in my room.”

Maybe it would be good to try out these older seduction methods on you. It had been a while since he'd seriously used anything other than his charm to ensnare a potential lover or fan.

“Yes darling, of course you’d want to work with me, I mean I practically invented seductive speechcraft after all.” He silently cursed himself for sounding like Mammon, he was coming on too strong. That was the first rule of seductive speechcraft, you had to ease into it so as to not spook your target. But since he was talking to you, he felt unsettled.

He scooted over and you sat next to him on the bench, so close he could feel your body heat. Had normal humans always been this warm? Asmo couldn’t remember.

The two of you swapped letters. You smiled as you took hold of Asmo’s pale pink stationery, scented with his signature perfume. Asmo couldn't help but stare.

“Would you like to go first?” You asked.

And he continued to stare.

“Asmo?”

“Hm… what?” he said.

“Would you like to read my letter first, I could use all the help I can get.” You admitted.

“Oh, yes I’ll read yours first,” He quickly picked up your letter and began to read. “My dearest human,” for this assignment you had the task of roleplaying as a demon, “The ducks– ducks?” Asmo raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting topic to begin with.”

“It’s supposed to say ‘days’.”

“Right…” Asmo continued. “The days that we are… parties?”

“Parted.”

Asmo set the letter back down on the table and leaned his cheek on his hand, “My dear, your handwriting is atrocious, I can't read a thing.”

You looked down. “I’ve been having trouble with Devildom writing. I can read it perfectly fine, it’s the writing I have difficulty with. I have a hard time remembering the shapes of the letters.”

“Why haven't you asked one of my brothers to help you?”

You shrugged, “It hadn't occurred to me.” Most assignments at RAD were allowed to be submitted typed, which made it easy for you. Since this was a personal letter, this particular professor being very old-fashioned, it had to be handwritten. There had been an oversight, no one had thought to teach you Devildom writing, so you’d resolved to teach yourself. And poorly, apparently.

“Well you can't turn in something that looks like this, you’ll fail. And your work will reflect poorly on me as your partner.” Asmo pulled out two sheets of paper from his notebook, pink and scented just like his letter. He slid one over to you. “Rewrite the letter in Human World writing so I can actually read what it says, and then I’ll show you how to write it in Devildom writing.”

You blinked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, now hop to it, darling.”

“Thank you!” There was that unmistakable kindness from Asmo again. Even if it wasn’t for Diavolo’s plan to unite the three realms or the boy in the attic, Asmo was someone worth knowing. It made you all the more determined to get close to him.

The love potion!

You’d forgotten to check if it was working.

Tentatively you raised your gaze, your pen stopping midword. “Asmo?”

“Yes?” He looked up from his paper, he had started drawing a grid for you to practice your writing.

You stared into his honey gold eyes. Full eye contact was needed for the potion to work.

“What?” he asked. “Is there something on my face?”

You didn't feel sick this time, which was a good sign. But you also didn't feel any different. He didn't seem to have a reaction either.

“Never mind,” You frowned, it was disheartening. Asmo didn't seem to notice, going back to his work. The potion had been a shot in the dark but it was the only lead you’d had so far. Levi would be so disappointed.

The two of you continued in silence. The assignment consisted of only a few lines, so it didn't take you that long at all to rewrite it. Once you were finished, you passed your newly rewritten letter to Asmo. He began to read it silently.

Your handwriting was very… you, Asmo thought. There was an innocence to it, a vulnerability. Pure like your soul. Asmo wanted to read more things handwritten by you.

The content of the letter itself was good, if a little tame as far as seduction went. But you weren't expected to perform at the skill level of any of your demon classmates. It would get you a passing grade as long as it was legible.

“Each box gets a letter,” Asmo said, setting the makeshift grid paper in front of you. “And obviously leave a blank box in between words to make a space.”

You nodded, proceeding to write the first letter, “Like this?”

He stopped you with his hand, tilting the pen the opposite way you had. “‘M’ goes in this direction.” That somewhat explained your difficulty writing legibly.

“It’s a little counterintuitive. At least it is for me.” You said. Human World and Devildom writing were so different from one another.

Asmo took the pen and paper from you, flipping it over and writing out each letter of the alphabet slowly, in the correct stroke order.

“The letters for the ‘D’ and ‘A’ sounds are shaped similarly, but see how this loops here instead of there?”

“I do,” You said. “The ‘Z’ sound is shaped like the Devildom number 3, right?”

“That’s correct, but don't forget to cross this here.”

Once Asmo was done showing you the letters, he flipped the paper back over and urged you to write. You held the pen stiff in your hand, proceeding cautiously.

“‘M’ is like this?”

Asmo sighed, with a little exasperated smile. “Wrong again.” He thought for a moment. Class would be over soon and you needed to turn in something. “Let’s try this.”

Asmo covered your writing hand with his, which required him to lean in close and put his arm around you. Quite a cozy position in such a public space. “Is this ok?” he asked.

You nodded after a moment, “Yes.”

With that, he moved your hand with his, the pen gliding smoothly across the paper.

He spoke directly into your ear. “Like this,” It reminded you a little of when you’d first learned to write as a young child, someone had done the same thing with you. Only then you weren't in the arms of the most gorgeous being you’d seen in your life, enveloped in the scent of his perfume. On second thought, maybe the two experiences were nothing alike. “Relax your fingers, dear.”

There were some jealous murmurs across the room. Neither of you minded them.

You were beginning to understand the flow of things. “You didn't have to do this for me, Asmo.” With each word, Asmo lessened his control of the pen, slowly relinquishing the power of movement to you. It was intimate. When you paused on a letter you were unsure of, he regained control, guiding you forward, your hands resuming their dance of elegant loops and curves.

“I know,” he said. “But I wanted to.”

The two of you were approaching the last line, the shapes of the letters were starting to make sense to you.

Maybe you weren't falling for him like either of you expected, you knew the love potion had failed. You didn't feel any more drawn to Asmo as you had on the day you’d met him. But this was nice. You almost didn’t want it to end.

Just then, the bell for lunch rang.

“We spent the whole class working on my writing, I didn't even get a chance to read your letter.” You said as he finally let go of your hand.

Asmo waved that away, a cocky smirk on his lips, “I’m sure I’ll get perfect marks as always.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

You picked up the letter you and Asmo had written together and placed it on the pile on the professor’s desk. Your D.D.D. buzzed with a message from Satan.

“MC?”

You smiled, looking up from your D.D.D., “Yes?”

For a moment you’d forgotten about the charm, but once Asmo locked eyes with you, your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was doing this time. He was trying to put you under his spell again. And you felt nothing. You broke eye contact first.

Why was this so painful? “Is there something you need?”

“Never mind.” He turned his back to you, “Bye, MC.”

It was no use.

You stared after him, clutching your books to your chest. You looked back to your D.D.D. and Satan’s message.

Satan: I have an idea of someone who might be able to help you.

***

You found Satan sitting in a comfy looking chair just beyond the entrance of the library, his nose buried in a mystery novel.

“Who is it that can help me?” You didn't bother with a greeting.

He snapped his book closed, uncrossing his legs. “You’ll see,”

Satan took your hand and led you through the many shelves of books in the RAD library. You thought the House of Lamentation’s library was impressive. It was nothing compared to this. Where did they even get this many books from?

“Around half of the books here are on loan from Lord Diavolo,” Satan said, reading your mind. “And then a third of those are reproductions from the Human World.”

“How many books does this library hold?”

“A million.”

“A million?” The two of you took a sharp right, delving deeper into the library. Less people were around here.

“If you think that’s impressive, The Royal Library holds nearly quadruple that. It has the largest collection of lost Human World books in the three realms. Many of the texts lost from your Library of Alexandria can be found right here in the Devildom.”

You didn't have a chance to wrap your mind around that. You and Satan were approaching a lone desk by a fireplace in a particularly secluded section of the library.

Solomon was there, poring over a book of magic circles and occasionally jotting down notes in his own notebook.

“I see you’ve avoided being eaten by demons thus far, MC,” said Solomon, not looking up from his notebook. “I told you you’d be fine.”

You crossed your arms, still suspicious of the sorcerer. “Yes, well it hasn't been easy.”

“And yet you’re now the holder of three pacts. That’s impressive for a human with no magic.”

“Does that mean you won’t help me?”

“That depends on what you need help with,” He began sketching an elaborate magic circle. “Though you seem to be doing well enough to distract a demon I have a pact with, what do you need me for?”

Asmo had been more absentminded than usual: mixing potion ingredients in the wrong order, forgetting how to draw sigils Solomon had taught him over a hundred years ago, digging up the wrong herbs during the full moon. Solomon had tried to keep him busy after Lucifer had grounded him. He knew if Asmo was stuck in the House of Lamentation for three weeks with you there to remind him that his charm had failed, Asmo would fall into a deep melancholy. Filling up his schedule with grunt work that did actually need to be done was supposed to keep that from happening. It had only partially worked.

“MC needs someone with an extensive knowledge of magic,” said Satan. “My brothers and I can only do so much.”

“And how would you use my expertise, MC?”

“I want to find a way to make Asmo’s charm work on me.” You said.

Solomon smirked. What a ridiculous desire. You should be grateful his charm didn't work on you. How many sorcerers would kill to have built in immunity like that? He finally looked up from his notebook to laugh at you. But when he saw your face his eyes widened. “You’re ill.”

Satan’s eyes shot to you too, looking you up and down. “They are? I don't sense anything.”

“You’re not as well-attuned to the human body as I am,” said Solomon. “The cues are much subtler than with a demon or angel.” His gaze returned to you.

“I’m not sick. At least, not anymore.” You said quietly.

“What do you mean by ‘not anymore’?”

“I kind of… vomited it all up earlier.” You looked down at your shoes, not wanting to meet the eyes of the demon or the sorcerer who were practically staring holes into you. “I think I drank something that I probably shouldn't have.”

Solomon raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything just yet. You weren't that stupid, were you?

“What was it, MC? You have to tell us,” Satan’s tone was firm.

You shifted uncomfortably, you felt like you were being interrogated. “A love potion.”

Satan’s eyes were blazing now, “Who gave it to you? Was it Mammon?” He knew Mammon had a crush on you. It was so obvious. It was only a matter of time before he tried something creepy like this.

“No, it was Levi.”

“Did he sneak it into your tea this morning?” He remembered Levi had been in charge of breakfast. “Why didn't you tell anyone?”

“No, I drank it willingly.” You said. “Levi was just trying to help me with Asmo's charm but you can probably tell it didn't work or I wouldn't be here right now.”

Solomon stood up from the desk, smoothing out his uniform. “This is why I don't work with love potions,” He said, coming to stand between you and Satan. “Besides being unethical, they're unpredictable. Depending on the type of love potion used, the dosage for a demon varies greatly from the dosage safe for a human.”

“I didn't know that,” said Satan.

You were going to kill yourself messing with magic you didn't understand. Especially if the demons who were supposed to be protecting you assumed your body worked like theirs. He scanned your body once more. Whatever love potion you had was indeed gone, the faintest trace of magic remaining, leaving you looking haggard.

“You say you're not sick but how do you really feel, MC?” Solomon asked.

“I have a little headache now,” you admitted. “But that’s it.”

Solomon took your hand between both of his, "May the vestiges of pain that linger within the person before me be eliminated. I am the one they call Solomon. Hear my command!"

A warm sensation washed over you from head to toe, it was like sinking into perfectly warm bath water. As the little wave subsided, it took your headache with it. You blinked a few times trying to register what had happened. You didn't think you would ever cease to be amazed at magic.

“Thank you,” you said.

Solomon dropped your hand, his eyes flickering away from you. “We are both humans, after all. It’s only right.”

You watched him carefully. “Does that mean you’ll help me with Asmo’s charm too?”

With a sigh he nodded. “I guess I have to.”

***

Cross-posted on AO3

[shenyaanigans]

🎈& 💎 for the writer ask meme?

AAA haolia !! <33

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

WOOBOY. HELLO. so this is one of my favorite topics, as much of what i rly enjoy about writing is the love of the words themselves on the page. while i think i am always changing and growing as a writer, one thing that remains consistent is my consciousness of the rhythm. the sound of the sentences.

i am not a musician by trade, but i spent a lot of time in music and dance, and that experience has indelibly shaped the way i think of my style. the sentences don't just need to make sense. they need to sound pleasing to me. they need to work with one another. they need to create a flow, an ease, for the reader to slip into, to be pulled in by, to be stopped by as i see fit. if a scene is fast, my sentences are fast. short. staccato. when i want to slow it down, i am languid and long and flowing, letting images pour into the pages, descriptions to take you there, to make you feel something, hopefully what the character feels, or something like it.

much of my style uses rhetorical tactics that you would see in speeches. it's because stories, to me, are dialogues between you and me, reader and writer. i have something to say. my job is to make it easy for you to listen, and to hopefully convince you to come along on the ride with me.

idk if that really answers this question, but that's the way i think of it: layering, creating a symphony. each sentence culminating to the next and the next and the next. stories are journeys. the reading of it should be, in my opinion, a journey, too.

💎why is writing important to you?

oh man. i... hm. because it's something that i fought for.

without getting too personal, there was a period of time in my life where i genuinely hated writing. after years of being praised for it, and for feeling like i was good at it (like it was the only thing i was good at), the pressure of all of that as well as some of my personal associations with my writing--the fact that i kept at it for as long as i did because of an ill-fated relationship--made it devastatingly difficult for a time. i didn't feel like i could do anything. nothing i wrote came OUT the way i wanted it to. i would have all these ideas and just never execute them, or when i tried, i'd fail partway through. it was so frustrating.

but i didn't want to give it up. this thing that i was "good" at, i was "good" not because i just inherently had the gene, it was because i have been doing it since i was six. i've been writing silly stories in weird pink font for as long as i can remember. and i loved doing it. i didn't care if they were good. i cared that it was fun. some of the greatest things that have happened to me have been because i wrote--there's nowhere else that i feel i get to be myself more than on the page. and while i needed to diversify the things i did, i needed to grow and learn and experience more, i also knew that more than anything i wanted to be a writer. and so i needed to do whatever i could to keep writing. to find that love again.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

The Real Parts

I've written pretty much fiction in the past 10 years, and the stories are fiction. As in...I made them up. The characters aren't real. But let's get real...there are real parts in some of the stories.

Since there are only a handful of people I like a lot here to read what I write, I'll show this piece of the first love story I ever wrote, Building. It's real. The characters aren't real...but this piece of the story is. These characters are not me and J, and this isn't the only real part of this story or other stories taken out of context and fictionalized, but it's one I'm thinking about a lot lately. A piece of history for me and J. History for us inspired a lot of romantic fantasy scenes.

Excerpt from Building: A Love Story

When he continued lower from her navel, he felt her tense beneath him, and paused to look up at her face. The passionate, outgiving expression he'd seen the previous evening and before their shared morning shower was replaced with a shrinking grimace. “What's wrong?"

“Nothing.”

“Don't lie to me, sweets. If I'm doing something you don't like, tell me so.”

“I don't know if I don't l-like what you're doing.”

“That's cryptic. Be clear. Clarity is nice.”

“I agree. You be clear. Whatcha doin'?”

“You really want me to say…?” He shook his head at her, and himself, realizing the absurdity of being more inhibited talking about it than doing it. “I'm doing something for you. That's the plan, anyway.”

“You plan to…go south…from there?”

“Not if you don't want me to.”

“It's just…um…I've never…traveled south before.”

“You've never done anything…oral?”

“I've done…is that why you're…? If that's what you want, I'll do that for you. You don't have to…”

“There's no 'have to' here for me. And don't you ever think there's a 'have to.' There's only 'want to.'”

“I don't know if I want to. But I have to try it to know if I want to. I'm no good at…guessing.”

“You've really never been…warmed up this way?”

“I knew this would end up a problem,” she sighed. Her face was still screwed up, showing her self-perceived deficit.

“This is not a problem. This is just a little talk we're having.”

“About how I'm such a rookie…while I'm naked with you. If it's 'not a problem'…it's at least problematic.” She felt her foreboding tension speed up from a canter to a gallop.

“It's not… We can talk about this. We talk about everything,” he emphatically stated, in an effort to convince her…and himself. “Talk to me.”

“Things only got this far with…and he never made me feel…you're the only guy to ever kiss me anywhere except…my f- face. I'm not…virginal. I've done…th-things…but nothing like this except with…I've only ever…um…been 'warmed up' by one other guy. And he…he was nothing like you. And that's…really good….that you're not like him. I don't know why I'm so…j-jumpy about this. We've already…and I've liked everything you've done…differently…” she careened, nerves on full throttle.

“So, High School never kissed you here? Or here? Or here?” He slowly canvassed her upper body with his hand, soft and undemanding, again consoling her uncertainty with uncanny fluency.

“No.” She mildly quaked at his touch.

“And he never went…there?” He lightly rubbed his first three fingers between her legs.

She gulped in air and felt a slightly stronger tremor. “He…t-touched me there, but…he didn't…go there like you…might.”

“But he asked you to go there for him?”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yeah. But I feel immature now. And kinda like you're making funna me.”

“No ma'am. Choosing and acting with purpose and intention's not 'immature.' And I don't think this is funny. Have you ever tried…” He paused momentarily to clear his throat. “Ahem…another approach…than the way we've been together so far?” He hoped the subtlety would be enough for her greenness and straightforward predisposition. Despite his expertise in practice, he felt ill at ease discussing the topic up front, like she communicated most things.

“Another approach? You mean…like…?” He nodded at her, confirming she was on the right path. “No.”

“OK then.” Now it made sense to Alan that even when she was on top of him after waking, and when she set things in motion the night before, she reposed to the missionary position before the moment of truth. “I don't wanna do something you don't wanna do. I'll never ask you to do that for me. If you don't want me to do what I planned here…I'll stop right now. But I want you to know I'm not doing it so you'll owe me a blow job.”

“Omigod, Alan,” she coughed, squeezing her eyes shut and feeling the mortifying fire normally contained to her face spread across her entire body.

“I don't wanna embarrass you, Jess. But you gotta know I don't do 'quid pro quo.' That's not what I'm about.”

“I want to…do things…for you. Things you like. And I wanna try…n-new things. But I don't know enough to just…come up with something…I mean, at least for a little while, you'll probably have to…ask for things…sh-show me things…Ugh. Why can't I talk about this?” she sheepishly asked, still alight with demureness.

“'Cause it's strangely hard to talk about. I'm uncomfortable too.” He felt confounded that his first time with a resolved, enthusiastic woman was also his first time with an inexperienced woman. It seemed like everything with her; how she spoke with him, how she behaved, how she was, was singular. She was decidedly not formulaic. He was pleasantly startled by how distinctly she repeatedly and unwittingly set herself apart. The current liaison was no different; she asked him to lead her until she caught up to him. “We should talk about it, though. I want you to feel safe going into uncharted territory with me. I wanna do things you like. That's what I was…trying to do.”

“What if we try something I never…d-did before…and I don't like it?”

“Then you say 'stop.' And I quit and turn the car around. And we never have to go down that road again. But there are some places I know you're gonna…you won't want me to turn the car around. You'll ask to go there. You might drive me there. I'd like to give this a shot. 'Cause I think it's one of those places.”

“What if you don't like it?”

“Ha!” he exclaimed and hurriedly shut down the humor he couldn't help but find in her question, to make sure she knew it wasn't satirical. “If we do something, and you like it…I like it.”

“But there's really nothing…in that…for you.”

“Would you do that…for me?”

“Of course I would! You want me to…?” She shifted her weight to change to a more advantageous position, but he eased her back to her back.

“Sweets, not right now,” he timorously chuckled at how strictly she took everything he said. “I'm not asking for 'right now.' I meant…generally. But see how you were just gonna…? What's in that for you?”

“Giving you something you want. Hopefully making you feel good…”

“That does something for you?” he asked with a discerning grin.

The rosy glow of her body rejuvenated as she answered, “Yeah. I…like…knowing I'm making you feel good.”

“I like that, too. Making you feel good is what's in that for me.” He grazed the inside of her legs with his knuckles, enticing them further open. “Let me try a new way to make you feel good.” He brushed his nose over the skin under her navel and across the top of her thighs. She ran her fingers through his hair as she relaxed. His considerate manner led her to volunteer herself to untried venture, and she became more adventurous with each encounter that followed.

[unfoldingmoments]

Days at Morasaki Bookshop

I don’t know. I think maybe I’ve been wasting my time, just doing nothing. I don’t think so. It’s important to stand still sometimes. Think of it as a little rest in the long journey of your life. This is your harbor. And your boat is just dropping anchor here for a little while. And after you’re well rested, you can set sail again.

Human beings are full of contradictions.

It’s funny. No matter where you go, or how many books you read, you still know nothing, you haven’t seen anything. And that’s life. We live our lives trying to find our way. It’s like that Santōka Taneda poem, the one that goes, ‘On and on, in and in, and still the blue-green mountains.’

The act of seeing is no small thing. To see something is to be possessed by it. Sometimes it carries off a part of you, sometimes it’s your whole soul. - Motojirō Kajii’s, "Landscapes of the Heart"

It started in my late teens. I was feeling depressed. I couldn’t see the value of life anymore. I couldn’t seem to fit in, at home or at school. I just withdrew into myself and closed everything else out. I was overly self-conscious, I had too many ideals and ambitions for one person, and because of that, I ended up without a single one I could hold on to. I was an empty person. That’s what I was. It seemed like there was absolutely nowhere I belonged in this world. You were born right around that time. I first met you when my sister brought you back home to introduce my father and everyone to his new granddaughter. The instant I saw you, so tiny wrapped up in your blanket, sleeping so peacefully, I thought I might cry. How can I put it? I could feel the mystery of life filling my heart. The idea of this child growing up, experiencing so many things for the first time, absorbing so much—all of it brought me as much joy as if it were happening to me.

All of a sudden, I felt as if my twisted heart was being filled with warm light. It was still blurry, but I could feel a sense of purpose growing within me. That’s when I made my decision. It was time to stop shutting myself up in a cage. It was time to get moving, to look around, and learn what I could from it all. Time to go in search of a place where I belonged, a place where I could say with confidence that I felt right. All the trips I went on, all the books I read, were the consequences of that decision. In other words, Takako, meeting you led me to a kind of epiphany. “An epiphany . . . That’s amazing.” “So, that’s what I mean when I say you’re the one who saved me. That’s why I’ll do anything for you.

The joy of realizing that someone loved me that much made my heart want to burst. I tried to make a joke to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. “Uncle,” I said, “that’s not exactly dialogue you should deliver while you’re eating shredded squid.

“My uncle laughed out loud. “So did you end up finding the place you belonged?” “Well, I guess you might say that. But it took me many years to get there.” My uncle nodded quietly. “This is it. Our little, rundown Morisaki Bookshop. I had so many aspirations. I flew all over the world only to end up back at the place I’d known every bit of since I was a child. Hilarious, isn’t it? After all that time, I came back here. That’s when I finally realized it wasn’t just a question of where I was. It was about something inside me. No matter where I went, no matter who I was with, if I could be honest with myself, then that was where I belonged. By the time I realized that, half my life was over. So I went back to my favorite harbor, and I decided to drop anchor. For me, this is a sacred place. It’s where I feel most at ease.” “That reminds me,” I said. “A long time ago, Sabu told me that you were the store’s savior.” He laughed. “Its savior? That’s a pretty big exaggeration. Basically, when my father fell ill, the business was on the brink—all I did was take over and keep it going. At first, my father was pretty strongly opposed to me taking over the shop. It was a tough time in the used book business, after all, and I was this irresponsible guy. But I got down on my knees and pleaded with him to entrust the shop to me.

This shop might not be indispensable for most people, but if it matters that much to even just one other person, then I feel I can keep it going for decades. It’s like the line from Naoe Kinoshita in "Confessions of a Husband", ‘My boat travels lightly, drifting aimlessly at the mercy of the current.’ That’s how I want to live my life with this shop,” my uncle said, and then he smiled without saying any more.

Don’t be afraid to love someone. When you fall in love, I want you to fall in love all the way. Even if it ends in heartache, please don’t live a lonely life without love. I’ve been so worried that because of what happened you’ll give up on falling in love. Love is wonderful. I don’t want you to forget that. Those memories of people you love, they never disappear. They go on warming your heart as long as you live. When you get old like me, you’ll understand. I don’t think it really matters whether you know a lot about books or not. That said, I don’t know that much myself. But I think what matters far more with a book is how it affects you.

Excerpt From: Satoshi Yagisawa. “Days at the Morisaki Bookshop.”

[amrago]

Servant of Chaos - 11

So. I write a lot, and today I had a lot of anxiety for various reasons. Therefore I did good in writing today since my MC is an anxious wreck too.

I've decided to share the letter Rosaspina wrote to Felix where he tries to make his dad understand how he feels, what he is going through and the consequences of it on his life.

It's really hard to have a like 7000 year old dad I guess 🤷. Old guy is really trying, but he can't understand any of the things Rosaspina did or thinks. Remember that psychology hasn't been invented yet, and Felix definitely lack the experience to relate to him.

Well. Here is the excerpt.

_______

Father,

I want to start this letter by apologising for my behaviour of yesterday. After a bit of reflection, I came to the conclusion that it is better, for both of us, to clarify our feelings.

First, you noticed my blindness, but you refuse to acknowledge the hurt I feel in my hearts. I feel stabbed, out of breath, agitated, angry and sad a lot. I cry myself to sleep, if I can. Sometimes I cannot and I end up staying up all night only to quiet myself in the early morning when I hear the forest and I begin to feel safe again.

I do not know what this is, but surely, in all of your experience as a healer saw something like the illness I have just described. I do have a couple of medicines with me to ease my feelings, but sometimes it hurts too much and I can not move myself.

At this point I do not think I will ever feel good again, and you helped causing this. There is not an amount of "I'm sorry" that can give me back all the time I have spent living like this, and you should recognise that.You used to write me letters and continued to even when I decided to leave. I do not know the content of those as I never got around to read them. My friends did, on their own. I allowed them because, although I was and I still am angry, I knew it would have come a time where I would have regretted not to read them. If I know them well enough, they still might have them stored somewhere. I will ask someone to read them to me, once I feel better.

But, as I mentioned yesterday afternoon, I need time to process and to understand better what happened.

The fact that you and Mother kept a lot of information from me is making me feel more agitated. You trust the man I have become with a task  yourself failed, but you don't know me. You knew, at best, a boy that fell in love with your pupil.

You have no right to put that expectation on myself and burden me with it. It is not my duty to save the world or to fix your mistakes. It is also not my duty to forgive you, no matter how much sympathy I can feel for your situation.

I wish I could forgive you, but deep down I know I cannot. Not now. I also need to understand what kind of agreement you had with Chaos, but how can I trust you? I realised that every answer you can give me, at this moment, will not believed by me. You will argue that you never lie. But you omitted so much information about myself, our existence, our species and ways to live that while not lying, it made me miserable.

And I have the feel that you are still witholding information to me and that there are things you are not going to admit to me. This is within your rights, of course, but you should be aware that for every thing you refuse to say, for every memory you choose to let die, I will be the one paying for it. I have heard many many times you saying that "a life lived in ignorance is not worth of living", how and why did you expected me to live in complete ignorance? I got myself laughed at because of how many things you or Mother did not say back at the Academy.

At the end, while it is still my choice to continue to have a relationship with you, I can confirm that you can help yourself in my decision.

Your son,

Rosaspina."

[dailylumi]

Jan 5th

Well looks like I forgot to write the second part for yesterday but oh well we move on and don't think about it.

I think today was a better day overall than the past few days in all honesty. I mean it was still a mixed bag kind of day but the good really carried me through the day to be honest.

To start, I've been really sleep deprived lately and today was no exception. I slept somewhere between 6-7 but I forgot about ember's appt so I had to get up at 9 to take him. Feel like that was my own fault among my other issues with sleep and my avoidance of it. But yeah very off state as usual and while I wasn't grumpy I felt a bit sensitive and just overall dread this morning.

I already feel embarrassed writing this next part cause I know they read this SAKSLDJ

I think the main turn around for the day was a phone call with my bff. I don't know it just meant so much and was just so nice. They're such a grounding person for me and I'm always so grateful with just everything. I dont know just the phone call made me finally feel like time slowed down for a second and forget about everything for a little while. It's kind of ironic since the time went by so fast on the phone LMAO. Really it was the sense of connection for me through the phone call. I know that I am always connected with them and I bother them literally all day but mental illness and boundaries just makes me feel disconnected when I know that isn't it all.

I feel like that left me with a lot of serotonin and feeling of ease like I was okay for the day. I feel like they do that a lot for me :( I tried to make myself sleep but I couldn't really force it so I read manga until I passed out for like 40 minutes. It was really short and I felt more tired when I woke up but I think it's probably good I got a bit more rest.

The rest of today felt slow. I didn't know what to really do but I ended up cutting my hair since it has been a bit. I think I'm always frustrated with my hair. It feels like there is nothing I can do with it and Ive just had the same overall short hair style my whole life. If it grows past a certain point it just becomes too curly to manages and dries out super fast. I wish I could experience a different hairstyle but that feels like a reach both from logical standpoints and from my lack of self esteem on the matters. I feel like id just look weird doing something new. One day I should try dyeing it maybe I wanna try.

Thinking about the future there is just so much that feels overwhelming but at the same time I know I'm not completely alone regarding it. I don't really wanna talk about the things changing in the future but maybe my worries.

Ive been so worried about the future and meeting people. I am someone who is so bad at first impressions and worried about upsetting others. I know that I would try my hardest to get along and not cross lines with people but Ive begun wondering if any of my habits would cause any issues. I just don't want to be hated or do something off putting especially since I can be unaware of things at times.

On a separate but slightly connected note I feel like I should try to be more outgoing and form an actual friendship. I think I am still acting a bit stand offish and shy and thats because I really am but also like what if I am hated lmaoo I usually don't care if others hate me because I am mostly disconnected from people but it feels like I can't be like that right now. It helps nothing and my anxiety won't let me.

Sometimes I really wonder if I ever let myself breathe or am I just someone stuck in an endless loop of mental illness and self deprecation lmao

I'll never really know but I don't think the answer matters as long as I don't cause others to feel suffocated by my issues and presence.

I think tomorrow might be a bit of a better day. I might see a friend in person that I haven't seen in like 7 months. So that might be interesting.

Can't believe I'm on a three day streak of posting. Hopefully I can continue