#finally finished dark heir. OOF.

[crowdemon-boyo]

how are y’all pronouncing sarcean

[taniushka12]

tagged by @autisticwriterblog!!! thank you, 🤗🤗💞💞

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

on ao3 just 79! been posting there since 2015 but im a busy bee u_u

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

177103 😌

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The most I've written for in the past decade are Haikyuu -> Wolf359 -> Tma -> Alwake

4. Top five fics by kudos

Antropofagia (147) the one and only jon/martin ive ever written where web!martin eats a guy and then ponders about his humanity w/ his boyfriend

Lipstick Stains (143) Jon/Tim/Sasha fluff ♥

The dance of the spider and the flame (126) web!martin/desolation!tim fluff (pseudo fluff? its fluffy to Me) w/ a side of meta

Ridiculous monster man (118) Jon/Tim angst 😔

Un hombro en el cual dormir (86) Tsukki/Yama fluff ♥

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! sometimes it takes me a Considerate amount of time but I always leave them unread until I get to do it ;o;

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

sticking to remedy (for this and the next question) id say Clouds of pink and storm, where Alice experiences the final reunion w/ Alan in aw:an but then wakes up, assuming it was merely a dream and that he's still dead ;_;

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hypothermia where Alan gets out of the dark place and can finally sleep in peace surrounded by the people he loves ♥♥♥

8. Do you get hate on fics?

one (1) time in my first tma fic, but I just deleted it and moved on ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (joke on them bc that Is my most popular fic lmfao)

9. Do you write smut?

sometimes. I hate writing it almost as much as I like thinking abt it, which puts me on a difficult position 😔

10. Craziest crossover?

😶 do not have one..

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i translated many of my hq and w359 fics from spanish to english, if that counts!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope! im pretty protective of my stories... although I lowkey wanna try it sometime, making aus and stories with people is Fun ;o;

14. All time favourite ship?

ALL TIME FAVORITE is hard, but as of Right Now its alan/alice/barry and any permutation of those three ♥ i love them ;o;

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the hannibalesque au... a martin/elias fic that was supposed to be my tma magnus opus, last time i opened it it was pushing 20k and quite literally only needed two scenes to be complete, but also thinking abt tma always puts me on such a sour mood and, while i love the ship, i couldn't care less about elias himself,,, still love the fic but god getting into the mindset to write it is hard to say the least Q_Q

16. What are your writing strengths?

id like to think characterization! and dialogue 🥰

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

larger plot...? thinking around specific scenes i wanna write sometimes gets tedious so i prefer writing snippets of stuff :/ also staying motivated on the thing 😔

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

if done right it can add flavor to the story! but its a hit or miss and when it misses it can be soooooo so bad Q_Q i dont believe you Need beta reads for fics but in this case you Gotta have someone that speaks the language available, and Please dont just translate words at random

19. First fandom you wrote in?

phineas & ferb :') still got some one shots printed somewhere in my room lmao

20. Favorite fic you've written?

oof. hard to say. but I'll go with:

Desperately Safe (tma, peter/salesa) what if a charismatic yet highly paranoid man and the misanthropic heir of the lonely found refuge in each other? and they were both sailors?

Recognition Through Fear (tma, martin/annabelle) in which the resident "spider monster" lady who was formerly arachnophobic shows signs that she never Actually stopped being scared of them, and the resident "fear buffet" guy who hates her guts (yet loves spiders) tries to make her life just a little bit easier by carefully picking the spiders integrated to her skull. a small moment of kindness in an otherwise unkind world u_u

Hypothermia (alwake, alan/alice/barry) you know that one 😉

tagging: @lostinthewoodsomewhere, @wolf-three-fifty-nine, @florallychaotic and @ilkkawhat 🤗

[flappingduster]

tagged by @saturdaysky! Last song/piece I listened to: Children burying the doll by Theodor Bastard cause I felt like listening to something slightly unsettling :>c

Last book I read: One hundred years of solitude! interesting piece of literature but someone really needs to stop Aureliano Buendia from procreating, this man has SEVENTEEN SONS and they're ALL named Aureliano, I'm gonna shred this man. 🔪

Last film I watched: I geniunely don't remember cause it's been a while but it was either Men in Black II or one of the movies from Luc Besson's Taxi series

Last TV series: oof wow it's been almost two months since but it was Castlevania: Nocturne before I passed out

Last video game: Final Fantasy XIV, I recently started to play it and it's been a blast, I love zooming from quest to quest

Last thing I googled: 'pepitas' cause I was curious what you were eating👀

Last thing I ate: fish sticks with a side of shallots sprinkled with vinegar and I am getting hungry again just thinking about them 😋

Sweet, Savory or Spicy: I love all three but savory is almost always welcome

Amount of sleep: a healthy amount and more than yesterday that's for sure

Currently reading: technically still Dark Heir which is gonna be a treat to finish on my next few train rides

Currently watching: Laila Dyer's playthrough of Pathologic 2, she's got such a comfortably calm and thoughtful way of playing and talking about games

booping tagging @capitola @callingvoicemail @cupcheesecake

[kotosnoozy]

a rite of passage

Unbeknown to both the general public and applicants alike, Saotome Academy’s S Class has an interesting unofficial tradition for the first day of school.

[DO NOT tag this with ship tags other than RinRyuu]

It's 11am when Mr Hyuuga first checks his watch.

Syo can't imagine anyone else notices - he wouldn't have if it were anyone else, it being such a small action and all. But sitting in this classroom with this teacher has been his dream for as long as he can remember, so now that he's finally here he can't help but be a little overzealous in taking everything in.

The morning's been chock full of introductory protocol - several lists of rules and regulations, a campus tour with the other class and the president of the agency, and a myriad of horrendously awkward ice-breaking activities. Throughout it all, Mr Hyuuga has been single-minded in his behaviour, keen to drill into all of them through his own actions that he won’t suffer tardiness, slacking or inattention.

Until this slight contradiction, anyway.

Syo thinks to treasure the moment - Ryuuya Hyuuga is a beacon of perfection in his mind, a marble Adonis brought to life, flawless in all his stalwart, brawny glory. To see him display even the slightest disregard to his own personal ethos is a rare reminder that he isn’t a god brought to earth, but a normal human being. A true fan knows they should appreciate their hero for all of their aspects, flaws and all, and so he takes the gesture in with a flicker of a smile and nothing more.

The second time it happens, merely 2 minutes later, it’s as Mr Hyuuga starts to worry his lip. When his brows furrow (further than their semi-permanent scowl, that is) Syo starts to suspect that it isn’t an endearing character flaw at all, so much as something isn’t running according to plan.

What, however, is impossible to say.

Mr Hyuuga has been on the ball with everything. Required textbooks, intranet logins and study guides have all been provided, desks have been triple checked for anything that might remain of the previous S Class. He’s even gone so far as to make sure they all have an alarm clock, or at least an app on their phones with a similar function, so there’s as small a chance as possible that they’ll be late. The entire morning has run like a well-oiled machine, exception being the human-spanner-in-the-works, President Saotome himself, but even he seemed to avoid letting his antics run on too long for fear of Mr Hyuuga’s wrath.

Syo can’t help but let his eyes dart around the room for what might be perturbing him. The desks are orderly, no bags falling in the aisle, not a uniform out of place--

Other than, of course, that of Ren Jinguji a row or two back. His tie hangs loose around his neck, and he sprawls in his chair lithely, elegant in his feigned nonchalance. All that gives away his lackadaisy as a farce are the buttons of his shirt, popped to expose his entire chest - Syo’s fairly certain he’d started the day with the shirt fully buttoned, and had loosened one for each irritated click of their teacher's tongue (what a jackass). 

Jinguji’s brow slips as he looks at him, angular face twitching into a microscopic scowl. He feels himself tense, worried he’s already managed to draw the scorn of arguably the most influential boy in his year. 

Then his eyes flicker, just for a second, from him to their teacher, accompanied by a slight head tilt. The bold blue of his eyes seems to hold a question: ‘What’s up with him?’

Syo feels himself beginning to scowl too, lips drawing into a thin line. He shakes his head quickly - ‘I don't know.’ - as Mr Hyuuga checks his watch for a third time, running a hand through his hair as he continues to read.

Jinguji stares at Syo for a long second, eyes narrowed, before pursing his lips. His mind seemingly made up, he swings his chair back forward onto all four legs, jostling his desk so hard that he knocks Saotome’s golden boy Ichinose forward into his own desk. Ichinose’s head whips around, furious, as the other boy raises his hand to get Mr Hyuuga’s attention.

Their teacher doesn’t manage to finish his sentence, let alone ask his new student what he wants - Jinguji quickly makes it apparent that he doesn't care enough for manners to wait a mere five seconds.

“Mr Hyuuga, why d’you keep checking your watch so often? Seems a little hypocritical to be so impatient for lunch after the constant warnings about inattentiveness, don’t you think?”

The tension in the room skyrockets as perfect silence falls over the class. Syo catches his own horrified expression reflected in the face of the girl sitting behind Ren - his indignation, too, as both of them mentally debate with themselves whether or not to throttle the older boy for interrupting the Ryuuya Hyuuga. Even Ichinose's temper (already famous among the students after how harshly he'd addressed his new roommate at breakfast that morning) diminishes considerably, as he warily turns back to face the front of the room.

Vibrant amber eyes flick up from the book they’re reading from. The way they assess Jinguji over the top of oval frames is more than a little nerve-wracking.

Then he sighs.

Any menace to his demeanour vanishes with his breath, his head lolling back and redirecting his gaze ceiling-ward. 

“Sorry,” he says, sounding sheepish of all things, “I’m just… a little worried is all. He’s normally so timely...”

The confusion among the class is practically audible. The orientation timetable they’d been handed that morning has nothing else scheduled ahead of lunch, no implication of further visitors. And Ryuuya Hyuuga doesn’t do surprises, especially not on the first day of semester.

(Or so Mr Tsukimiya had been faux-whispering during the campus tour, trying to get a rise out of his… friend? Boyfriend? Whatever. That was a question for later.)

“I’m sorry, sir,” - Ichinose, unexpectedly, raises the question on everyone’s mind - “but I don’t believe we have anything else scheduled ahead of lunch?”

They all jump as Mr Hyuuga unexpectedly barks a laugh.

“Lucky you,” he says, smiling wryly. His eyes skim the face of his watch yet again.

“I, however, am not so fortunate.”

Jinguji, clearly done with Mr Hyuuga’s coy responses, leans forward over his desk in a pointedly accusatory manner.

“I’m sorry, sir, but what the fu--”

“RYUUYA, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, TODAY’S THE DIE YOU FINALLY DIE!!!”

A mass of hot pink barrels through the open window at mach speed, colliding with Mr Hyuuga with such force that his entire desk goes sprawling. Students shriek as their teacher falls to the floor amidst his scattered books and papers, flailing beneath another almost-equally-large figure.

It’s hard to see the features of the attacker, amidst what quickly turns into a wrestling match, other than a tangle of chartreuse hair and the feral snarl of their teeth. Their movements are vicious, fists swinging at Mr Hyuuga like they want to smack his jaw clean from his head. Fortunately, their teacher is no pushover.

He grabs his assailant’s fists cleanly before they make contact, bringing his knee up swiftly into their gut. There’s an ‘oof’ as they crumble, and Mr Hyuuga takes the opportunity to roll them over so he has the advantage.

“I almost thought you weren’t going to show,” he hisses through gritted teeth, struggling with the exertion of keeping the wriggling person down. The person below him practically growls in frustration, biceps rippling as they start to struggle against him anew. Their sheer muscle seems to catch Mr Hyuuga off-guard, years-practised technique failing to hold up as he’s shoved from his triumphant throne on their stomach. They sit up almost as quickly as Mr Hyuuga drops, grappling him by his stomach.

“And I thought you kept sayin’ you wasn’t interested in fighting me to the death, and yet--”

Mr Hyuuga shrieks uncharacteristically, and there’s a flash of yellowed teeth contrasted against his dark suit jacket as his legs thrash wildly. By now, the more frail students in the class are trying to get as far away as possible from the brawl on the floor (the door clicking shut alerts Syo that some brave soul has gone to find help too). Medically speaking, Syo should probably consider himself amongst their number, and also retreat to a sensible distance. And yet… he just can’t pass up the opportunity to watch his idol fight for real (no matter how much it’s starting to resemble eight-year-old kids scrapping in the playground)

“I’m NOT interested in fighting you to the death--!!” Mr Hyuuga shouts, tone strangely childish, as he shoves at the person’s head. With considerable effort, he manages to prise their jaw open and away from his flank, only for them to double down and bite his thumb instead. He swears loudly, letting go lightning fast. He shoves his undamaged hand against the side of their head, directing their teeth away from him, though it does nothing to loosen the grip of their fuschia-clad arms around his middle.

“Oh, stop bein’ such a pussy and fight me properly!!”

“Yamato, this is a school for heaven’s sake, could you mind your langua--!!”

“Oh fuck off, you swore like two seconds ago, you fuckin’ hypocri--!!”

“Yams.”

The two on the floor freeze as every student’s head whips to the front of the room. In the doorway stands Mr Tsukimiya, his expression the blankest Syo’s ever seen on him (and with him so frequently paired with Mr Hyuuga, he’s seen him in a lot of stuff). He starts to stride purposefully into the room, each click of his heels against the wooden floor making everyone jump.

The A class students are clamoring in the doorway for a better look at what’s happening - Natsuki towers over everyone else, face aghast and hands over his mouth, while Ichinose’s red-headed roommate tries to protect a smaller girl from being squashed by the pushing masses (and squashing the Hijirikawa heir, of all people, in the process). Jinguji’s expression has slowly transformed to one of pure glee as events have progressed, while Ichinose looks like he might be nursing a migraine - judging by the look on Mr Tsukimiya’s face, the pain will probably be getting worse before it gets better.

He’s only a short man. A few inches taller than Syo himself at best, even with his heels on. The assailant must have at least half a foot on him, and is definitely twice as broad, and Mr Hyuuga is taller still. But at this moment, the two giants on the floor are meek as mice in the face of Shining Agency’s cutest idol. 

“Rin--”

“Shut up.”

His tone is dagger sharp as he cuts off the green haired person. He neatly squats down to their eye level, hands folded delicately over his knees.

“Now then. What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

Two pairs of wide amber eyes blink up at him.

“Well?”

“I was just--”

“C’mon, Rin, y’know I fuckin’ ha--!!”

“He does this every semester, I can’t stand here and let him--!!”

“Well you have it comin’, just stood there with your dumb hair n’ your stupid glasses--”

“Oi, what’s wrong with my hair, you little shi--!”

“Ha! There ya go again! Don’t care that much that we’re in a school, do y--!”

“ENOUGH!!”

Mr Tsukimiya’s prim posture vanishes, shoulders dropping as he leans into their personal space (‘YAKUZA SQUAT’ screams Syo’s mind, as the threatening aura of the petite man forces him to take a step back). The volume of his voice diminishes considerably, leaving every student desperately straining to hear what he says.

“This is the sixth year running this has happened. Every fucking year I have to come and clean up this mess. And sure, the first three years it was pretty funny. The fourth time still got a giggle out of me when you managed to pants each other,” - at this, they both flush the colour of Mr Tsukimiya’s shoes - “but I told you last year that I had had enough. So why the fuck am I here again this year?”

They both swallow nervously.

“Yamato.”

The assailant flinches.

“Y-yessir.”

“I don’t care how much you hate him, do not attack him during school hours. You’re putting the students in danger and your own career in jeopardy, if the reporters catch you skulking about.”

In an instant their shoulders sink, expression like that of a chastised puppy. 

“And Ryuuya.”

Mr Hyuuga sucks his cheeks in nervously.

“If you know he comes at 11 like clockwork every year, then why the fuck don’t you just close the window?!”

‘Yamato’ snorts, sharp teeth flashing for the briefest moment.

“Yeah, Ryuu, you fuckin’ dolt-- AUGH!!”

Mr Tsukimiya seizes him by the earlobe and pulls his head sharply.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at, young man. You’ve got a lecture on music theory to sit through.”

“Wait, what--OW OW OW GEROFF!!”

Merciless, Mr Tsukimiya stands swiftly, dragging the taller man up with him. His class scrambles away from the door and back across the hall as he marches from the room, ignoring Yamato’s complaints and pleas for freedom. He toes the door shut without so much as a glance backwards, and the room falls into a stunned silence.

Mr Hyuuga pulls himself up with a grunt, clutching his bitten flank, and retrieves his glasses from where they’ve fallen by Ichinose’s surprisingly unmoved desk. With them placed firmly back on the bridge of his nose, he goes about wordlessly rearranging the room to its former pristine state, pulling his desk back upright with some effort. The students quickly move to help him, gathering his scattered papers and books, and adjusting their own desks one by one. Through it all, Jinguji sits back in his seat with a bewildered yet overjoyed smile - a cat who got the cream - while Ichinose himself looks confused about just what sort of school he’s signed up for.

Syo moves to the front of the room and wordlessly closes the open window.

When everything is orderly once more, everyone returns to their seats. Mr Hyuuga stands in-front of his newly righted desk and leans back against it, arms folded. His posture would seem terrifying were it not for the slight flush of his cheeks, the bashful set to his mouth. 

He looks at each of them in turn, seemingly daring them to raise a question about the events that just transpired. When no one speaks, he simply picks up his book, flips a few pages and begins to read anew.

Not a single sentence is completed before Syo hears the telltale shifting of fabric that accompanies a raised hand.

“Sir, what the fuck just happened?”

“Detention, Jinguji.”

“Wha--?!”

The bell rings. Lunchtime.

“None of you are ever to mention this again. Class dismissed.”

i said this in group chat:

and then immediately went off the rails and wrote this

you're welcome

[lilithpooped]

Promise - Kim Hongjoong

Song Request: Promise by Ateez

Requested by: @sleepyninibear

Genre: fluff

A/n: Promise always gives me the feeling of young love and saving the one you love. Love is not always about protecting, no one can protect anyone forever. It’s also about saving the one from dark times. I wrote this fic considering both the lyrics and the melody, hope you like it 💕

“Mom, I don’t want to get married to him please don’t let it happen, please..” you begged.

“This is your dad’s will, y/n. You have to since it’s good for both the business and your future. Don’t cry, you’re gonna ruin your makeup.”

“Mom, I don’t care about makeup. How can you be so cold hearted? Haven’t you always been the one to tell me to do whatever I want? I can’t see how marrying him help with the business either!! And I told you I don’t love him, how can he be good for my future?!”

“Y/n, I told you to stop crying. You don’t have a choice right now. I told you to disagree with your dad when he first talked to you. This is not a game, you cannot go back. Especially not on your wedding day. If you were against the marriage that much, you should’ve told him then. Not now. Now stop crying and get ready. You’ll be walking to the aisle in 10 minutes.”

Your mom left the room. You looked at the mirror, your reflection seemed like a ruined masterpiece. Everything about your makeup, hair and wedding dress was perfect, just like your soon-to-be husband’s public image. He was the only heir of the biggest entertainment company in the country. He was rich, not so handsome but definitely attractive, charming and kind. He was everything someone like you could ask for.

But you didn’t ask for him.

Your family was above the average, too. But not as rich as his family. Your dad had an entertainment company which was not so successful at the moment and with you marrying the other company’s heir meant new business deals and growth for him. And since the heir really loved you and he was in fact the one asked for marriage, your dad immediately said yes before even asking you. Needless to say your relationship with him was not on a real dad-daughter level.

When he first told you that you were going to marry that man, you didn’t oppose to the idea. The heir was kind, cute and you always knew he had a crush on you. You weren’t seeing anyone anyways so you just accepted it and saw it as a chance to actually use him as a money source if you couldn’t like him even after trying to know each other. You didn’t oppose because marriage, love or sex meant nothing to you.

But it only lasted until you saw “the one”.

You met your “one” in a coffee shop. You were there to meet with your best friend and tell her about the wedding but she was late so you decided to grab your coffee first. You stood up, walked to the counter and got your favorite coffee. Took a sip before you walk back and wow! That was the best coffee you’ve ever had!

You turned back to your table and waited some more but your friend was nowhere to be found. You decided to text her.

“Hey where the heck are you? I’m slowly turning into a tree..........”

“Y/n I’m so sorry, my boyfriend got sick and I needed to take care of him. I couldn’t text you because he keeps puking and I’m with him rn.”

Wow... Amazing... Your bff ditched you.

You hadn’t replied to her text and decided to turn back home. But before you do, something inside you told you to ask for the barista and thank them in person. You wanted to let them know they were doing an amazing job and you would come there often for their coffee.

“Mr. Kim, our customer wants to see you.” Told (more like yelled) the cashier to the kitchen. You saw a red head behind the door window and that red head appeared in front of you in two seconds.

“Hello, I guess you asked for me. How can I help you?”

Wow he is handsome, you thought to yourself.

“Umm, I just wanted to say you create miracles back there. I mean this was the best coffee i have ever tasted, I’m gonna be a commoner here because of you.. I- I mean your coffee. Ehehe”

“Ah, thank you for saying so. I’m flattered but you’re exaggerating a bit, ehe, I don’t think my coffee is that good.”

He smiled shyly, you thought he looked cute. His eyes were shining.

“Oh, no no I’m not exaggerating. It was amazing. I didn’t want to finish it. Its taste still lingers. Ahaha.” This was your time to get shy now.

“Thank you so much. Your comment made my day.” He answered while smiling again.

“Ah.. Thank you for making coffee, i guess.. Ahaha! Umm. Okay anyways I should go now, thank you for the coffee again.”

You turned your back to the handsome barista and took a step before you hear him.

“Ummm, will I be able to see you around again? I mean, for coffee. I mean here..”

You turned your face to him again, something in your heart jumping at the sight of him.

“Yes, yes definitely. I will be coning here often.”

“Oh, then see you next time!” He gave you a cute and genuine smile while looking into your eyes.

You smiled back and turned back to your home.

All of it happened pretty fast from then on. On the second time, he told you his name. Kim Hongjoong. On the third time you two talked about your jobs and daily lives. On forth time, he asked you out by offering to make you a coffee when the shop is closed.

That was the time you fell for him.

It was you two in that coffee shop, till five in the morning you two talked, laughed and shared your stories. By the end of that date he was sitting closer to you. You were touching his arm while talking and laughing. Everything felt magical. Including your first kiss..

It was then you regretted not opposing to the marriage that’s been set for you. Life sure had a funny way to turn the things upside down.

You couldn’t keep the marriage thing as a secret from Hongjoong. You didn’t wanna trick him into thinking everything was normal. And he appreciated your honesty.

Of course he was confused and devastated at first. But you telling him the bare truth made him fall in love with you even more. He wanted to save you. He asked you to tell your dad that you changed your decision about the marriage and you did as he asked but your dad was furious when he heard your opposition. He was mad. He was throwing things to the floor just because he didn’t want to take his anger on you. But he didn’t accept your opposition. Instead, he decided to ground you. He made sure you hadn’t left your room. While he was at home, it was your mom watching your door so you couldn’t escape. She was not happy doing so but your dad scared her too.

You only left the room for dinner times and breakfast times. You had a bathroom for your own and always used that. And you only had your phone with you in the room which was enough to only call and text Hongjoong. He was also mad but not at you, he was mad at the situation, at your dad.

“I’m gonna do something, baby. Don’t you worry about it.” He texted you the night before the wedding.

“What are you going to do Hongjoong, just let it be. We can’t do anything at that point. Just remember i love you. I’m so sorry we met in a situation like this but I’m in love with you.”

“Just sleep and trust me my baby. I love you too.”

Now you were in your wedding dress, hair perfectly done and makeup making your face look like a porcelain doll, about to leave the room and be the wife of a rich heir.

“Y/n, it’s almost the time, get ready.” Your bff told you sticking her head in between the door and wall.

“Okay, thank you.” You answered silently, turning back to your reflection.

You heard the door closing.

You heard the door opening again and saw your best friend again, this time with a bag in her hands and worried look on her face.

“Y/n, oof your mom was right next to me and I was so afraid to get caught OOF god bless!!”

“What’s happening, what’s that bag, what are you talking about??”

“Look, Hongjoong is waiting for you outside. You should just go through the back door, he’s there. Here, take these sneakers. You will have to run, leave your highheels here. I put your stuff in this bag, I know it’s probably not enough for a lifetime but it should be enough for a week?? OKAY enough talk, just run!”

“What are you talking about, is that a joke cuz it’s not funny at all-“

“Y/n, you’re wasting your time! Just do as I said, why would I prank you with something like this, just go please. I’m gonna distract your mom. GO!”

She left your room hurriedly and you heard her talking to your mom.

Was it really Hongjoong? Was he insane?!?! Your dad-in-law’s security guards would kill him instanly if they knew!

You changed your high heels to sneakers quickly and opened the door just to see your mom’s back, she was talking to your friend and your friend and you got eye to eye for a split second before you hold your dress up and run until you saw Hongjoong. When you finally saw him, he was smiling so brightly you just wanted to stop your tracks and look at his face. Of course people heard noises your dress made and tried to run after you so Hongjoong held your arm tightly and made you run faster.

“My friends are waiting for us in two cars, if the security tries to follow us, they will distract them. You look so beautiful and we need to run faster.” He told you while running.

You were running and laughing crazily. It felt like you were running to your own freedom. With the only one you love...

—

Hongjoong remembered that time while looking at your sleeping figure in front of him. He was lucky. He was lucky because you were in front of him. It had been 2 years since you two ran away together but he still could feel the adrenaline in his veins. He remembered your laughing face, cheeks red from running, eyes sparkling. You looked so cute. You always looked so cute. He wanted to protect you. That day he did not only saved you but also he proved himself that he could protect you from most of the things if not everything.

Of course the rich family searched for you. But it was over now since the heir got married to another woman.

Hongjoong put his hand to your cheek and caressed it softly.

“I won’t let go of you. Don’t ever worry about anything, I’ll always be there to save you. I promise.” He mumbled while playing with your hair softly.

———————————————

Masterlist

[revivedandabandonedkids]

The Portrait of Afuro Terumi (01~05)

! Double Gods

! Unfinished 

-

01.

There's a long corridor in the deep of the mansion, and a giant room at the end of it that Father tells Hiroto to keep away from.

"Why?" He asks whenever he catches a rare chance to occupy Father's time.

The answers are different every time.

"There's a cool draft seeping through. You might catch a cold."

"There's nothing at the other end to entertain you with."

"It's a dusty dusty room. You might catch a cough."

None of them are convincing enough.

He turns to Hitomiko-nee-san once to see if he can get a more satisfactory explanation, but his sister merely rolls her eyes and say. "It's because the hall is haunted. Duh."

Hiroto can't tell if she's trying scare him off or if she's just tired of trying to come up with an excuse, but the answer sends shivers down his spine.

"Have you ever been?"

She scoffs. "Of course not. Father told us to stay out for a reason."

She's a goodie-two-shoes like that.

So Hiroto asks on.

"You might get lost in the dark."

"The door is locked and I've lost the key."

It's obvious that with the older he gets, the less patience Father has for the question. The answers turn short and clipped, when eventually it turns into a single-

"Just keep away."

And then he stops talking to Father altogether.

-

02.

His curiosity stays unquenched.

-

03.

It's easy to get bored inside the mansion.

It doesn't matter how ridiculously large a house is, once you get used to the bounds, the place settles in a quiet thrum of mundaneness, and Hiroto's spent years trapped within those walls.

It's ridiculous, how the mansion's settled on a mountain. Isn't it awfully inconvenient to get to society? Maybe the land's cheaper on the mountains, but it's not like his family lacks money, so what's the excuse there, Father?

The Kira mansion looks like one of those CGI layered Haunted House In The Deep Of The Woods On A Stormy Night in horror movies. Clearly the best place to raise your children.

Hiroto used to freak out at night when the shadows stretched too long on the ceiling and the air conditioner whirred too loudly in his spacey room, but as he grew, the fear started altering into gaping loneliness. Then even that was gone, and all that was left was emptiness.

It's a miracle that he hasn't developed some sort of emotional trauma from all the neglect.

Or maybe Hiroto is traumatized, and just doesn't know how to identify it.

He can't wait to be old enough to get his own place. A place far far far away.

And that's when Hiroto gets the first idea of the secrets residing in the house.

When he tells his future escape plans to his friend(?) Haizaki, the dark skinned underclassman only nods thoughtfully and says, “I’d be dying to move out of a cursed house too.”

Hiroto narrows his eyes. “Cursed?” That’s the second time he’s heard that word applied to his residence, but it’s the first time he’s hearing it from an outsider. “What do you mean cursed?”

“There’s a rumor.” Haizaki seems reluctant to answer. “People talk about it all the time: There’s a ghost, or an angry spirit of some sort? Anyway, it supposedly killed a bunch of dudes before finally being sealed inside a secret chamber. I wouldn’t know. I just think your house is creepy.”

Creepy it is. Cursed? Hiroto doesn’t know.

“I think I know what chamber you’re talking about.” Hiroto tells him. Because what other room would be considered as a secret chamber other than the room he’s prevented from entering?

Is that the reason it’s forbidden to him? Because his Father is a superstitious shithead? Why keep living in the house, then?

“Seriously? That chamber exists?” Haizaki’s eyes widen. “That’s freaky.”

“You wanna come see it?” Hiroto offers with a smirk.

Haizaki scoffs. “Because we both know that you don’t have the guts to poke around by yourself.”

Hiroto flushes darkly, trying to uphold some sort of composure as the elder one present. “That’s not- I’m just granting you the chance because you look interested.” So really, Haizaki should be thanking him.

Haizaki guffaws, and it’s a very unattractive voice, mind you. “I’m not risking the chance of getting cursed, rumor or not. You’re on your own, buddy.”

"You still believe in sorcery and witchcraft?" Hiroto taunts. "What a baby."

For once, Haizaki doesn't take the bait like the easily-riled-up dumbass he is, and simply retorts. "Like you're one to talk. You wouldn't be yapping at me to go with you if you weren't afraid of it yourself."

Shit. He actually has a point. Except-

"I'm not afraid." Hiroto narrows his eyes. "The only reason I haven't gone into the room is because Father explicitly told me not to."

"And you listen to him since when?"

Hiroto shuts up. He hates it when other people are right, especially if "other people" is Haizaki.

-

04.

"Why am I not allowed to go in that room?" Hiroto asks. It's been years since he last questioned about it.

"You can't just barge in here whenever you want, Hiroto." His Father has a look of displeasure on his face, probably upset since Hiroto bursted into his home office abruptly without even a knock.

"Tell me why I not allowed in. The truth. Not some half-assed lie."

"I thought you've dropped that childhood nonsense already."

Hiroto feels his throat closing up. His clenched fists shake. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm your father, Hiroto."

Hiroto scowls.

"Hitomiko-nee-san says it's haunted. There's a rumor outside that it's cursed." He says bluntly.

"There's no such thing as ghosts or curses, Hiroto. You're the heir of the Kira company. We don't indulge in fantasies or superstition." His Father furrows his eyebrows condescendingly. "You should know better."

-

05.

And that's why Hiroto's sneaking into the Forbidden Corridor, glaring at the giant door in front of him.

So there is a room here.

Well, that's pretty much a given, since a corridor leading to nowhere would be a pretty idiotic design.

It looks like a fairly plain door. It's wooden and the paint is peeled. From the bright beam of the flashlight on his phone, he can see that there's dust all over the surface of the doorknob. This place hasn't seen any visitors in a long while.

"Listen, I can't stop you if you still want to get cursed, but word of advice: Don't interact with anything. Don't touch anything. Don't respond to any noise. In and out. Higher chance of survival."

It's not like Hiroto needs survival tips from Haizaki Ryouhei. That would most likely increase his chances of getting his soul sucked out of his body or whatever.

The door makes an ominous creak when it cracks open.

It's brighter than he expected. There's a beam of afternoon sunlight spilling through a ceiling window. He turns off the flashlight.

It's an almost empty storage room. That is to say, it would be empty, if not for the enormous life sized painting strung up on the wall to the far side of the room.

It's a portrait of a person. Or maybe an ethereal being. The depicted subject sat regally in the center, with a Greek chiton draping over their slender figure. Long blonde hair the shade of melted sunlight flows down their shoulders, shrouding a pale, fair face with elegant eyebrows arching over striking red eyes and a teasing smile twitching at the edge of their mouth. Between their left fingers is an elegant wine glass, a golden fluid fills it to the brim. The background is a muddled mistiness.

It looks like a very ordinary painting. The frame has little cracks littered all over. Under the frame lays a caption:

Afuro Terumi (????) It is said that this painting brings happiness.

Hiroto snorts. Some cursed room. There's nothing but what looks like a religious painting. Is this what Father is so amendment on keeping Hiroto away from? Does Father even know what's inside this room? Why would he hang a (seemingly expensive) picture where no one could see it?

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Hiroto crosses his arms in front of his chest and tips his chin up in a mock sneer. "They say you're cursed." He says loudly, fixing his gaze on the being portrayed in the center of the canvas- Afuro Terumi, probably. "Well, they say the room is cursed, but you're the only one here, aren't you? What do you say?"

Afuro Terumi's face breaks into a wide smile. "I'd tell you they're right. I am cursed."

-[Next]

Okay just to be clear, this is still some what a wip.

I have most of the plot figured out, and have written about 1/3 of the entire story already, but I have a reputation of not finishing wips. So.

I don't know when the next part will be out yet. Keep a lookout if interested. Ignore this if not.

Bear in mind that this is written at the spur of the moment. I put like 0 effort into this, but still spent a lot of time because typing takes a considerable amount of time oof.

I am not going to apologize for putting 0 effort, because I wrote this piece purely to entertain myself. It's very very self-indulgent. And also because it's just not worth it putting too much heart into my ina eleven stories.

Nothing against the ina eleven fandom. I love this community, I really do, but it gets tiring sometimes and I don't have the energy to fight off bad emotions. I'm only trying to protect myself.

Being a fanfiction writer isn't easy work. I've been writing for roughly six years, and only recently did I come to this realization that as a writer, I don't need to write to please anyone else. It's my own opinion that matters. I write for small fandoms and very rare pairings, so feedback never comes easy. I'm sure other writers can relate. No feedback makes it way too easy to doubt oneself. That had taken a toll on my emotional health in the past, over and over again. Then I decided that I'm done with doubting myself over a hobby. So I no longer ask for comments, because I don't want to set myself up for disappointment.

There had been a time in my life that I thought I would stop writing. At least stop putting my writing online. There's just no motivation for it. But then someone came up to me and told me that they love my stories, that I'd convinced them to ship a rarepair, that they want to try writing now. That changed my mind, and helped shape my mindset the way it is today. I don't need to write for a crowd. I just need to write for myself, and the very few who enjoy my stories as well.

This rant turned out to be more personal than I'd intended, and ended on a happier note than I thought it would. So if you're still here, advice for other struggling writers: find your audience, your support system. Find those who are willing to discuss ideas with you. It gets better from there. ♡

[teachingoutsidethebinary]

Best Halloween Ever

Prompt Request: could you do a peter parker x ginger reader where she’s a HUGE harry potter nerd and she thinks peter looks a little like harry so she has them go as ginny and harry for halloween and he’s super in love w her throughout it all cause that’s HIS nerd and he loves her ??

Characters: Peter Parker, Reader

Warnings: none really, just fluff

A/N: Thanks for the request! Tags and requests are open, and as always, thanks for reading!

Oneshot Masterlist

Peter hopped over the back of the couch and plopped down next to you. Some popcorn escaped the bowl he was holding and spilled onto the floor.

“Watch it!” you warned. “Papa Bear’s gonna kill you if you mess up his rug.”

Peter sighed and banged his head against the cushions. “Can you please stop referring to Mr. Stark as Papa Bear?” he asked.

“Is he ever going to stop acting like an overprotective father?” you shot back.

Peter groaned. “Probably not.”

“Then no.” You smirked at him, and he threw a few pieces of popcorn at you.

“What are we watching anyway?” he asked, after he got the silliness out of his system.

“Well…” you trailed off and his eyes widened.

“No!” he exclaimed. “Not again!”

“Okay, hear me out,” you reasoned. “The new Fantastic Beasts movie just came out on DVD, so of course we need to rewatch the old movies.”

“But it’s not even the same storyline as Harry Potter !” he yelped.

“Yeah, but there’s history to be learned. Pretty please?” You clasped your hands together and gave him your best puppy dog eyes. You knew he’d never be able to say no to your puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh, fine!” he relented. “But I want to watch the one where they train in that secret closet.”

“ Order of the Phoenix? Coming right up!” You scrolled through Tony Stark’s massive movie library until you found the movie you were looking for. You had managed to get Tony’s iTunes password from Captain America himself and had downloaded all of the extended versions of the Harry Potter movies.

“FRIDAY, please turn down the lights,” Peter commanded as you started the movie. Everything was plunged into darkness until just the light from the TV illuminated the room.

Normally, you were completely engrossed whenever you watched a Harry Potter movie. But today, your attention kept wavering between the movie screen and Peter’s face. He couldn’t help but feel your intense gaze on him as he watched wizards and witches fight it out on screen.

“Everything okay?” he finally asked. He was thankful the darkness was hiding his flaming red cheeks.

“You look just like him…” you murmured. You paused the movie. “FRIDAY, lights please.”

The lights came back on, and you grasped Peter’s hand and pulled him to his feet. You started talking about something, but your voice faded out as he tried to contain his emotions.

His heart beat wildly as you held his hand in yours. To say he had a crush on you was an understatement. Ever since you had been assigned partners in chemistry last year, you two were practically inseparable. Plus, he loved the fact that you didn’t treat him any differently once you found out he was Spiderman. You weren’t even intimidated by the other Avengers when you hung out with him at the Tower.

“So what you do think?” you asked, bringing his attention back to the present moment. “You wanna do it?”

“Yes,” he replied dreamily.

You squealed and jumped up and down. “This is going to be so awesome!” You gave him a quick hug. “I just need to run home and grab some stuff, but I’ll meet you at the shop in, like an hour?”

Peter gulped and nodded, hoping you couldn’t decipher his absolutely clueless expression. You waved and practically ran out the door.

He waited until you left to summon the AI. “Umm, FRIDAY? What exactly did I just agree to do?”

He couldn’t help but feel like the AI was smirking at him behind all its code. “Well, Mr. Parker, it appears you will be dressing as Harry Potter for Halloween.”

You waited anxiously outside the dressing room as Peter changed into his outfit. Finally, the thin blue curtain pulled back and Peter appeared. You stared at him with an open jaw as he held out his arms and spun around.

“Well?” he asked.

“Oh. My. GOSH!” you squealed. “You look amazing!”

Peter blushed as he looked in the big dressing room mirror. “You think?”

You nodded vigorously and turned him around. “You’re perfect as Harry Potter!”

It was true. With his brown hair and piercing eyes, Peter totally pulled off the Harry Potter look. You held out fake glasses, and he put them on.

“Ahh! I love it!”

Peter looked at your own costume appreciatively. “Maybe, uh, you should, like, stand next…to me,” he stuttered. “You know, to get the, uh, full effect of the costume.”

You let out a light gasp. “You’re totally right!” You practically bounced over and stood next to him. You made the perfect Ginny Weasley. Despite the harsh fluorescent lights in the dressing room, your red hair shone brilliantly. It framed your face in the most perfect way, and Peter couldn’t help but notice how the black Gryffindor robes accentuated your already awesome features.  

“We look amazing!” you exclaimed. “All we need are wands and a scar for you, and then our costumes will be epic!”

“You are such a nerd,” Peter snickered.

“But you love it!” you sang, dancing around the dressing room.

Your enthusiasm was contagious, and Peter found himself actually looking forward to trick-or-treating.

He had it bad for you.

Halloween had finally arrived. Peter met you at your apartment to get completely dressed up in the costumes. You had helped draw a scar on his forehead, and he had to stop himself from passing out at you being so close to his lips.

“Expelliarmus!” you yelled, waving your wand at him.

“Oof!” Peter grunted as he pretended to fall backwards.

“Noooo,” you whined. “Expelliarmus causes the opponent’s wand to leave their hand.”

Peter straightened himself back up. “Okay, okay, lemme try again,” he insisted.

You held your wand out, a look of steely determination in your eyes. “Expelliarmus!”

Peter flung his wand, and it accidentally knocked over some of your Harry Potter funko pop figures. “Whoops.”

Thankfully, you just giggled and picked his wand up off the floor. “Let’s try not to hit any kids while we’re out, okay?”

Peter nodded sheepishly and followed you out your door.

Whoever said high schoolers were too old to go trick-or-treating was lying. You and Peter were a huge hit with your “couples” costume. Kids kept stopping you in the hallways to ask for you two to duel each other. Peter’s wand didn’t hit any kids, but it did accidentally knock one cranky old lady’s apartment numbers off her door. You retired your wands at that point and focused on collecting candy. By the time you finished hitting every apartment in your building, your bags were full of goodies.

“I’m kind of not ready to be done yet,” you admitted after you left the last apartment.

“Me neither,” Peter replied. “Want to walk around for a bit?”

You nodded, and suddenly, your demeanor changed. You bit your lip and your cheeks took on a pink tinge. “So, uh, since Ginny and Harry end up together in…in the movies…” You swallowed and took a deep breath. “Maybe we could, um, hold hands? To make the costumes more realistic,” you added quickly.

Peter’s heart lept into his throat. “Y-y-ye-yeah,” he got out. “Def-definitely need to m-make it realistic.”

You and Peter had held hands before. In moments of excitement, it wasn’t uncommon for you to take his hand in yours. However, this felt completely different. Peter prayed you couldn’t feel how sweaty his hand was. His heart thumped steadily as you walked around outside, hand-in-hand, in silence.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you said, looking Peter in the eyes.

“Me too.” He rubbed small circles on the palm of your hand and gained some courage. “Do you wanna hang out sometime?”

“Sure!” you replied immediately. “We can finish the movie.”

“N-no,” Peter clarified. “I mean, hang out.” Your eyes widened when you realized what he meant. “I mean, we don’t have to,” Peter added, when he saw your expression. “It’s just-”

His words were cut off when you kissed him. Well, tried to anyway. In your haste, you wound up banging noses, and his glasses fell off his face.

“Ohmygoshimsosorry,” you rushed, covering your face in your hands. “I was…I was trying to…” You groaned and refused to meet his eyes.

Peter bit his lip as he tried not to laugh. “You wanna…you wanna try that again?”

You looked up. “You mean you still want to?” you asked incredulously.

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I like you a lot.”

“I like you too,” you replied.

You liked him! Peter swore he could hear angels singing in the distance, he was so happy. He repositioned himself in front of you and placed shaky hands on your shoulders. Your own hands wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. Your eyes looked even brighter this close, and he could see the smattering of freckles decorate your nose. You took a deep breath and relished in the sharp scent of Peter’s body spray.

“Umm, so I guess we just…?” you asked nervously.

“Y-yeah,” Peter responded.

You both leaned in for your redo kiss. It was soft, gentle, and a little awkward for your first time. But otherwise…

But it was perfect.

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @iamwarrenspeace @theassetseyeliner @melconnor2007 @yknott81 @snapplejuice @sammnipple @jilljill17 @heir-of-light-33 @me-and-my-fandoms @fuckkoffcourtney @capttainamericaa @gab-pas-arm

[omgkatsudonplease]

Hi um that princess diaries thing was perfect and I'm obligated to ask, would you please please pretty please with a cherry on top write more?? I'm just like in love rn???

finally getting around to this hahahaha. oh god. there’s so much. -whispers- so much. oh and also, reminder that yurio’s approaching 21 in this series because let’s be real. why would you let a 16 year old rule a country.

The Midsummer Ball has barely started, and Yuri Plisetsky, ward and heir to King Viktor Nikiforov of Petersburg, already wants to leave it. 

By Petersburg custom, as an unwedded heir, he is obliged to dance with every single eligible person on the guest list. The problem with that is, of course, that a significant number of guests are eligible. And many of them are… well. Viktor would probably disapprove, but Yuri would rather stick out his eyes and chop off his legs than have to dance with another one of these chucklefucks for another moment.

It had started out innocently enough, with one of his partners speaking absolutely no English or Russian. The lady had been an okay dancer, even if all she spoke was Greek to Yuri’s ears. 

(No, really. She spoke nothing but Greek.)

Then there had been the English nobleman who had been counting his steps the entire time they danced (and Yuri had to roll his eyes every time his miscounts threw them off the beat), and then the too-boisterous French business magnate who danced like he was trying to land a plane, and the American steel tycoon who believed that dancing fell under the purview of the Ministry of Silly Walks. After a while Yuri had moved away from the dance floor in order to regain his wits, and is now standing off to the side, surreptitiously cutting himself a slice of cake. In the shadows, he could see Agent Porker – Yuuri Katsuki, head of security and the King’s personal bodyguard – muttering something into his earpiece. 

“Sneaking food already?” he hears, and turns around to see a diminutive Chinese man, sharply dressed in a suit with a glass of punch in his hands.

“Guang-Hong!” It comes out a lot more enthusiastic than Yuri might have liked, but in truth, he’s too relieved to see his old classmate from Georgetown to care. “You made it! Is Leo here, too?”

“Yeah, he’s helping himself to the pear and brie crostini,” says Guang-Hong, gesturing over his shoulder. “Is the party treating you well?”

“If someone could shoot me in the head right now, that would be a small mercy,” mutters Yuri. Guang-Hong laughs at that, albeit a little hesitantly, and pats his forearm.

“Well, at least the food is good,” he reasons. Yuri nods, biting into his cake and leaning against the table as he does so, ignoring the strange looks directed at him by some of the older guests. 

“When I’m king, I’m never going to invite old people to my parties,” he mutters. “Too much judgement.”

“Sounds reasonable,” remarks Guang-Hong as he sips his punch from next to him. “I still can’t believe you’re going to be king by the end of the year. Why’s King Nikiforov stepping down? He’s still pretty young himself.”

“Don’t let his age fool you,” says Yuri with a snort. “He’s practically decrepit. Going bald and everything.” He pauses. “It’s probably because he and Agent Porker have some sort of understanding, and part of that understanding includes not getting married while Viktor’s still king.”

“Really?” asks Guang-Hong, wide-eyed. 

Yuri shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just guessing, based off the way they can’t stop sending googly eyes at each other from across a fucking crowded ballroom.” That last part is slightly louder than appropriate, and directed right at Viktor, who’s currently greeting Prime Minister Feltsman with his usual public smile. 

Viktor catches wind of it, and raises an eyebrow at him, the spoilsport. 

Yuri sighs, and returns to clearing his cake. “That’s my theory, anyway,” he says, and Guang-Hong laughs.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he says. After Yuri finishes up the last bites of his cake, Guang-Hong begins to lead him over to where Leo is examining the other refreshments, and Yuri takes the opportunity to drop his plate and fork with a passing server.

He then collides with someone, the quiet ‘oof’ and feeling of stepping on a foot jolting him back into the present. 

The person he’s trod on is tall. Not too tall – coming up only half a head or so taller than Yuri himself – but fairly broad, with a carefully chiselled face and dark hair in an undercut. Yuri balks a little at his stony expression, and takes a step back. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t see where I was going.”

The man looks at him. “I’m sorry I was in the way, Your Highness,” he replies, his voice smooth and deep, reminding Yuri strangely of standing in a waterfall. He quells the shiver down his spine, and nods.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” replies the man, managing the faintest of a smile. A little spot of pink has appeared in his cheeks. “As I said, the fault was entirely my own.”

Yuri raises an eyebrow. “Don’t want to exchange licenses or proof of insurance?” he jokes, and the man chuckles at that. 

“These shoes were a little big,” he says with a shrug, and Yuri tries to focus harder on the medals pinned to the man’s suit, instead of how nice his face is when he smiles. “Swelling should make them fit a little better.”

Yuri’s heart races a little faster. “How about a dance, then? To break in your new feet?” he suggests.

The man considers it, and then extends a hand. “The honour would be mine, Your Highness.”

“Yuri,” says Yuri immediately. “I prefer Yuri.”

“And I prefer Otabek,” replies the man. “Just Otabek.”

They step out onto the dance floor together, Otabek’s hand coming down to rest lightly on the small of Yuri’s back. Yuri puts his hand on Otabek’s shoulder in return, and steps with him in time to the waltz. It’s almost perfect. 

“I’m glad to see the swelling hasn’t affected your dancing, Otabek,” says Yuri after a couple turns. The words sound stupid even as they come out, but for some strange, miraculous reason Otabek seem to take them in stride.

“You could step on my foot any time you want, Your Highness,” he replies, and had it been anyone else at this moment Yuri would have gagged at that sentiment. As it is, he just smiles a little, and looks down at the medals on Otabek’s suit, and wonders why a man who looks so young seems to be so well-decorated.

But he doesn’t have long to wonder, because suddenly Otabek stops, and Yuri looks past him to find a little girl who couldn’t be more than twelve, waiting impatiently at Otabek’s shoulder.

“It is Princess Alex’s turn!” she declares, and Yuri sends a tight-lipped smile at Otabek, who shrugs and steps away to let Yuri dance with the newcomer. 

“Alex,” says Yuri, looking down at the girl as she tries to lead him in the waltz. “Don’t you have the Nishigori triplets to play with at this party? They’re usually here.”

“I’m almost thirteen,” she snaps in response. “They’re just eleven. They’re boring.”

“You’re twelve,” Yuri points out, trying not to wrinkle his nose at the smell of her perfume. “You’re not turning thirteen until the end of the year.”

Princess Alex completely ignores the comment. “If this were my party, we’d be kissing by now,” she declares.

“I’m twenty-one,” Yuri states, sending a baleful look over at where Guang-Hong and Leo are clearly laughing at his misfortune. What friends.

“Can I blow in your ear?”

Yuri raises an eyebrow. “Can you reach it?” 

Alex glares as she tries to step on her tiptoes to reach, and in turn, Yuri’s almost grateful for the end of the song. He glares over at Guang-Hong and Leo, before scanning the crowd for any sign of Just Otabek, but to his dismay, there is none.

With a sigh, Yuri resigns himself to dancing with everyone else, hoping that maybe, at least before the night is over, Otabek will come back for another dance.

[willreadforbooze]

Hey everyone!!

Hope you guys had a great week! We are all convinced its still March. K? k.

Minda’s Update

Oof I haven’t felt like reading at all since the OWLs Readathon last month. BUT this week is looking promising.

What Minda is reading now:

The Jewel Thief by Jeannie Mobley – Slow-burn romance set in 17th C France centered around the missing Hope Diamond. The supposed jewel thief’s confession will mean her life or death—and maybe her heartbreak. I’ve been so excited about it, just haven’t had a chance to actually pick it up yet.

Nobody Will Tell You This But Me by Bess Kalb – The Emmy-nominated TV writer and New Yorker contributor pens a true story as told by her recounting the life of her grandmother and the generations that followed, including herself. I think I’m in the right headspace for this one.

What Minda put down:

Down Among the Sticks and Bones by Seanan McGuire – Second in the Wayward Children series with the twins, Jack & Jill, in the high logic, high wicked world. I had been trying to audiobook this, but wasn’t loving the audio so shelving until the written book is available.

Sam’s Update

I did a thing this week friends… I bought a condo!!! Super exciting. I even got to take 2 days off so I had a 4 day weekend and it was beautiful.

What Sam Finished:

Ember Queen by Laura Sebastian: This is the last and final book in the Ash Princess series. I can’t say too much about what this book is about because spoilers, but this was one of the only YA fantasy trilogies I actually enjoyed. It broke a bunch of the stereotypes that I was sure there was gonna be. I thought this was a perfect ending. Really really enjoyed it.

What Sam is Currently Reading:

Upon A Burning Throne by Ashok K. Banker: I’m reading this for Tome Topple. I am just over half way and am enjoying it. Been reading the hard cover and listening on audio and I really do love it.

Ginny’s Update

Not sure I have a message today. It’s been a week.

What Ginny Finished:

A Lady Awakened by Cecilia Grant: The quick summary is Martha is recently widowed and only inherits from her husband if she has an heir. She doesn’t, but talks a rogue-ish neighbor into sleeping with her every day for a month to try to fake an heir. I enjoyed this mostly because there was a lot of growth in the main characters. It felt like a natural progression even if it did seem like some of the “chemistry” was because they were really the only eligible people around for miles and miles.

Forbidden Promises by Synithia Williams: The Robideux’s are a wealthy tobacco-empire family. The youngest daughter has spent years away after the guy she was in love with married (and then divorced) her sister. This book tried a little to hard to help set up a series. There was the brother dramatically bursting in the room going “I have such a dark secret, but no one can know” and then dramatically bursting out of the room. And the sister who clearly has a stick up her ass but refuses to talk about anything. I found myself frustrated by this book.

What Ginny is Currently Reading:

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir: This is a book club book. Gideon the second hand of a creepy Reverend Daughter ends up stuck in a murder mystery. It’s pretty great, Gideon has a really good inner voice and there are a ton of red herrings so it’s really hard to know whats going to happen. I just got to a twist and I AM ABOUT IT.

You Are A Badass by Jen Sincero: I’m not sure I’m all in on the self-help book kind of genre. There’s a lot about it that I think can be positive, but some of the examples seem kind of not-PC in a way that I think could be really bad for certain subsets of the population. I’m going to finish it because I want to see where it goes, but unlocking your potential is a pretty generic subject matter.

Until next time, we main forever drunkenly yours,

Sam, Ginny, and Minda

Weekly Wrap-Up: May 11 – 17, 2020 Hey everyone!! Hope you guys had a great week! We are all convinced its still March. K?