#instead of being productive and just paying attention to one of my other interests instead

[causticsunshine]

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[paper-mario-wiki]

hi, i'm not the person who asked you about the life update, but could you elaborate on how being a creator means to live in a world of ideas instead of the real world? i'm just really curious about your reasons for quitting, specially because i want to create things in the future (not necessarily streaming, but anyways), hope you have a good day!

i'll be talking mostly about streaming for the sake of this answer, but this is similarly applicable across a wide range of platforms:

the job of the streamer is, effectively, to be the life of the party every single day. your goal is to be the person that has something interesting to talk about, and is quick with a joke, and has nuanced understandings of certain things, without actually obtaining any sort of "expertise" in anything lest you alienate viewers. short of having a stated goal for a stream, the only goal of the streamer is to let people relax with a voice they enjoy, saying things they like hearing. you can become very strong in different aspects of streaming, like in the production, or as someone who focuses more on a skill they've honed like art or speedrunning, but the demographic of streamers which pulls, by far, the most significant viewership, is personality based streamers.

this becomes more complicated when, for example, you are very interactive with chat, or you stream with multiple people at once. now, to maintain this charismatic sway you have (the one that got you the job in the first place), you must be able to adapt to and bounce off of other people, as you are now no longer performing alone. naturally, there's a need to not only manage your own flow of consciousness, but also to be at least partially in sync with someone else's.

beyond these complications, you must also consider drawing in new viewership. when i was a streamer, i was quite successful, relatively speaking. pulling 300 viewers consistently is something a very slim amount of streamers can actually do, and even then i was still making under 50k a year, which is not bad, but also not good. in paying for my apartment, my insurance, my travel fare, and all the other stuff that living independently draws money out of you with, i was more often in the red than i was in the green. hence, the need to draw in new viewers, which cannot be done without something eye-catching.

think about this: there are, at any given time, TENS OF THOUSANDS of streamers live in your native language on twitch, and they are all FREE TO WATCH. the attention market is sparse because the streamer market is oversaturated. and considering all of THEM want new viewers too, everyone is constantly refining and improving their craft, which requires everyone to move creatively in tandem with each other lest they get left behind.

if you are a streamer making ass-dollars and ass-cents, it becomes easy to begin resenting people like jerma, solely because everything he touches seems to turn to gold. i personally found it easy to feel very disappointed in myself when peoples projects that seemed so simple would take off. it was a constant "why didn't i think of that!" situation, at least for me. and when you don't have the energy to keep that up, or the social stamina necessary to figure that all out while also being upbeat and happy in front of people near daily, it can become very draining.

what i mean specifically when i say the "world of ideas", is like. there would be times where i could schedule out my failures weeks in advance. i'd be so in my own head about the process, i could see the exact path i could see myself taking that would lead me directly to ruin. how playing games i actually enjoyed would steadily drop viewership, or how focusing on my studies would make people forget about me. and of course this is augmented by my anxiety, i know this is absolutely not the case for every streamer, but that overwhelming feeling of needing to find a new game to play, or a new gimmick to use, or a new ploy to get money that doesn't make you feel guilty even though your source of income is mostly queer and mostly poor young adults and your rent is coming up and you're $200 short but you also just had a fundraiser last month about a DIFFERENT emergency but you cant make it a bummer or else people wont want to tune in so you have to make it something fun like "you laugh you lose!" or "$1 art request streams!" while feeling nothing but anxiety while youre trying to sound like youre enjoying yourself even when youre asking 250 people to donate every 30 minutes or so and nobody seems to want to and chat is moving slowly and. and and.

well, it starts to eat away at you.

[megantheestallion-ismypresident]

Hisoka Morrow HEADCANNONS ☆♡

● Hisoka probably owns different self care products from very expensive brands. He also has all the best smelling colognes and perfumes. He'll buy or share some of his with you.

● Hisoka would insist on holding your waist both or holding your hand in public and in private to show everyone your his and his alone, but it's also just because it's an excuse to be touching you because he can't keep his hands off of you.

● Hisoka would immediately give you anything that you spend more than a second looking at and not tell you that he bought it until after later in the day. As a surprise, grinning widely the whole time as be hands it to you. "I thought you'd might like this, sweetheart~" He whispers onto your ear, handing you your gift.

● Hisoka loves nuzzling his head onto your shoulder or hugging you from behind and kisses your neck it's just how he shows his love and affection.

● Hisoka gives you very seductive looks across the room in public just to make you flustered when you're supposed to be professional. He finds it cute when you're supposed to be paying attention to other stuff than watching him.

● He'll insist on you sitting on his lap instead of just taking a seat next to him or if he just sees you standing and there's no other seats.

● Hisoka loves to do "innocently" things by moving his hands and fingers in a circular motion when he sees you watching them, such as doing slow movements when he fidgets with his cards and taps or caresses along both the tips and sides of them, He notices you watching him and it makes him smirk on how you can't take his eyes off of him.

● He'll teach you how to play one of his card games he doesn't really teach people his tricks because he usually kills them with his cards, but he'll teach you because he cares about you.

●Hisoka also would make direct eye contact with you when he bites the tip of a card and holds it in his mouth, or when he's feeling more antsy, he'll very slowly lick the card from top to bottom just to get a reaction out of you, and it works every time.

● Hisoka would steal a bite of your food. It doesn't matter what you're eating, but. Be careful when you eat sweets. He has a crazy sweet tooth he'll grab them with a strand of his bungee gum without you watching when your having a conversation, but you'll notice that there gone by the time you see it's all gone from you're plate.

● Hisoka is not into expressing his feelings to people he doesn't find it comfortable to him, but he'll slowly warm up to you if you show him you won't uses his secrets against him or have any ulterior motives for being close with him. It'll take some time, but evenings he'll lt his guard down.

● Hisoka loves it when you play with his hair, and he'll start wearing his hair down more often for you.

● Hisoka rarely wears suits, but on a certain occasion, he'll wear them, but only how much you love seeing him in suit.

● Hisoka also uses his face paint to put the same symbols that he has on his and put them onto you, so you guys can match with each other. "Oh look, we're matching, darling. Don't we look like twins, my little ace~"

● Hisoka loves taking you to high places such as buildings, so he can show you the amazing view. At first, you were pretty scared, but he reassures you that there's nothing to be scared about. But you do enjoy the view and watching the stars and the sunsets with him.

● Hisoka doesn't really care if people get annoyed by him constantly talking about power or his powers and explain them every time he's fighting. But the way you're genuinely interested makes him feel appreciated to have someone actually listening to him rambling during his explanations, especially when he talks about bungee gum and nen, He finds you a very fascinating person.

● Hisoka finds curiously odd how someone such as yourself caught his attention and has feelings for him, that he thought he was incapable of. At first, he tried to ignore how happy you made him but, eventually he started to not care about hiding it and he truly had fall for you.

[mellifluouaamor]

hello! can I request isis, rezef, and ijekiel courting or crushing hcs? also gn!reader please, like how they would act around their crush, what they would do for them, unless you have a character limit I'll redo this request :') thank you if you took up this request! I hope you'll have a lovely day or night ❤️❤️

ISIS DE ELMIR, REZEF HILL, IJEKIEL ALPHEUS (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER

synopsis. how he courts you.

warnings. rezef hill being rezef hill.

author's note. HI SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING FOR MONTHS 🙈 to answer your question though - because of how easy it is for me to write for manhwa characters, i wanna say that i have no character limit... but alas, i gotta cap it at 3 so i can catch up with my other requests 😂

it'll take empress iris and aisha talking to ISIS to get him to realise his intimate feelings for you, and he'll immediately think of courting you once he's sure that what he feels isn't a product of him being in the heat of the moment. if he's already close with you, the way he endearingly treats you won't change but there will be a hint of shyness in his gestures.

his attempts at courting you may be a bit awkward, but there's no denying the heartfelt sincerity in every gift that he leaves in your hands. the gifts that he hand-picks himself reflect his innocent wish of making you the happiest person in the empire (as well as the time that he spends thinking about you).

as the crown prince, isis spends most of his time studying and training, and rarely has a moment to think about relationships. as a result, he would often turn to his father and mother for help. he'd take you out to the places they've suggested and would plan every date meticulously; courting you is an operation that he must succeed in!

he pays extra attention to you on your dates and considers those outings as your days. if there's a particular place that you want to visit, don't hesitate to tell him as he'll gladly bring you there on his carriage - or his horse if you ask him. something in a shop caught your eye? consider it bought.

during royal balls and banquets, isis will always make sure to ask you if he could be your partner for your first dance. he wants to be the one to lead you to the dance floor and show the audience that there is no one in the whole world who shines more brightly or beautifully than you. if he's the star, then you must the sky that allows him to exist.

despite being the crown prince, the way isis treats you will make you feel like royalty - and he's not being endearing just for the sake of getting your hand. every action and word of his is genuine, especially his promise to devote his faith to you and being your sword.

REZEF will kill a person, burn a mansion down, and even forsake his own country if it means that he can obtain you. with the way he was raised and treated as a child, it shouldn't come as a surprise that rezef views you as a property to own rather than a living human whose feelings he has to put above his own if he truly loves you.

you'll find yourself on the receiving end of his kindness and comfort more often, and you'll wake up to find expensive gifts piling up in your home. he doesn't bother leaving himself anonymous because he knows that once your parents are aware of the prince's courtship, it'll be hard for you to refuse his feelings later.

instead of taking you out to the places that you've never been to before, he'll invite you over for lunch or dinner with him in the palace and try to charm you. if you're cayena's close friend, she'll encourage you to get to know her brother better and will even go as far as putting in a good word for him to convince you; even if you're intuitive enough to realise that he's not someone you should get involved with, cayena's charisma is enough to make you inclined to accept rezef's invitations.

as the prince of his country, rezef is not short on money. if jamil tells him that you've been showing interest in a certain trend or have been eyeing some things in the shops, he'll order his servants to purchase those items and wrap them up as gifts to be delivered to you promptly. he doesn't stop to think about where you'll store his endless stream of gifts because if you run out of space, you always have the option of moving into the palace with him and becoming his beloved.

the more time you spend with rezef, the more possessive he is of you. only he's allowed to court you, only he's allowed to touch you, only he's allowed to love you. other people don't get those privileges, and if they try to steal you away from him, they'll face punishment even worse than death.

IJEKIEL is a gentleman at heart and wants to treat you with utmost care, believing that you deserve only the best. he's already kind to you, and you'll often find yourself being doted on by him in private.

he's quite romantic and would send you more love letters than gifts, which are reserved for special occasions such as your birthday. the words and emotions he normally wouldn't express to you in person are inked onto every sheet of paper folded and tucked into the envelopes that will soon find their way to your hands. sometimes, he would deliver his letter to you personally to show you just how genuine he is with his courtship of you.

when the two of you have a free slot in your schedules, he'd take you out for a boat ride and ask you about your day. don't spare him the details; he wants to know everything, so don't be shy about speaking freely around him. he likes listening to you ramble on about the things that make you happy as he watches your animated expressions with a fond smile. of course, he'll gladly talk about himself too if you ask him.

ijekiel will invite you to join him in night markets if you don't mind crowded places. it's the perfect opportunity for him to see what you really like and buy you a memorable gift that will hopefully remind you of this day whenever you look at it. these crowded night markets also give him a good excuse to hold your hand; you wouldn't want to suddenly be separated from him now, would you?

before every social event the two of you have been invited to, he would make sure to gift you something to wear to it, something that will obviously indicate whose heart you've captured. with how charming you are, ijekiel is positive that many suitors will approach you tonight, and wants a subtle yet effective way of warding off any potential threats to his courtship of you.

ijekiel always wants to be the partner of your first dance in balls and banquets. the moment he sets foot in the venue, he's weaving through the crowd, eyes searching for your familiar face. as soon as he finds you, he wastes no time in approaching you - and if you happen to be having a conversation with someone, he'll politely slot himself in to ask you if he could be your first dance partner.

during the first dance, you won't miss the way he's tenderly holding your waist as he meets your eyes with a loving gaze; in these moments, he'll make his feelings for you clear as day in hopes that one day, he'll have a place in your future.

[backtothefanfiction]

One Last Date For Christmas | PART ONE: An Arrangement At The Christmas Party

Summary: Another year, The same Christmas party and holiday hook up... or is it?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Smut (oral M & F receiving, p in v, mild dirty talk with Christmas references), Mentions of Cancer/Death, Fake Dating, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, this is basically Hallmark/Netflix Christmas movie vibes

Word Count: 5.9K+

A/N: Okay, so I've been feeling crumby lately and really need a boost, so although we took a poll and it was decided this whole story would go up as one piece at the same time, I need the motivation and have had a crumby week mentally and need a boost. So here is part 1. If you do enjoy PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I am like Tinkerbell, if I don't get attention I will die haha. But seriously my mental health needs the kind words for energy so please take a moment to share some if you like this part and not just like it. Anyway... ENJOY!!!

Another year, another fancy corporate business party Peter was obliged to attend due to his job. It had become such a regular routine over these last 7 years J. Jonah Jameson didn’t even bother asking if he was available to come anymore, just automatically emailed over the details so he could attend. 

Peter couldn’t completely complain. He got free drinks and fancy food for the night. I mean in reality he got to act just like any other guest, despite the camera he had around his neck for the night. And instead of paying to be there, he was instead getting paid to be there. Sure it was only an extra couple hundred bucks, but at this time of year it really did make all the difference.

Being a freelance photographer only made him so much a year, especially when the rest of his time was spent moonlighting as the local superhero which didn’t pay a thing. Not that he couldn’t have made some money as a public figure. A couple grand here to endorse a few products. A donation of thanks or two from business owners or generous members of the community there. All of which had been options that he had turned down. That wasn’t who Spider-Man was and definitely not who he wanted Spider-Man to be. And so at almost 40 years old, this was Peter’s life.

No wife. No kids. Not even a pet, because he couldn’t commit to spending enough time at home in his tiny run down box of a studio apartment, to look after it. He sometimes brought girls home, he did have needs after all, but no matter how interested they had been in him, he’d never let himself get attached. After Gwen he would never get attached again.

The only one to ever even come close was you. He had met you 5 years ago now at this very event. Just like him, you always felt like a fish out of water at these parties, despite always being on the guest list. Your Father was one of the big business benefactors of the party and ever since the divorce you had become his regular plus one. 

Just like Peter you were a chronic singleton, always too busy traveling for work to be able to sustain an actual relationship, despite your Mother trying her best every time you were home to set you up with some poor soul. She just didn’t get it. You didn’t believe in marriage anymore as most of them ended in divorce, your parents marriage and even two of your Uncle’s marriages prime examples alone; and as for children? You had decided at the age of 13 you wouldn’t have kids and no matter how many times your Mother, Grandmother or Aunt Sarah told you, you would change your mind, you hadn’t. If anything the birth of your brother’s kids had only cemented things more. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your niece and nephew, you were just always glad you could pass them back off to your brother and his wife after a few hours of their shrieking play and demands for cookies and ice cream, while fighting over what to watch on the telly. No, you had never wanted kids and you never would. You had however always wanted to get a cat, but until you changed jobs or just simply didn’t have to travel for work anymore, that would just remain a lovely little dream for the future.

Peter always arrived to the party early. After all, he was getting paid by the hour, so the longer he was there taking photos, the more money he could claim from the Daily Bugle finance department on Monday. He aimlessly wandered around taking photos of the venue and the table settings and the odd entering guest as people arrived. He helped himself to horderves off of shiny platters and the odd glass of champagne as he worked, seamlessly floating through the crowd, formally stopping people every now and again for more posed group shots, other times just taking candid photos of people mingling. He took the occasional booming order from J. Jonah Jameson, “Hey Parker! Make sure you get a shot of me with the Mayor. Parker! Come here and take a photo of me and Mrs Perez! Parker! Take a picture of me and my wife!”

“Yes, sir.” Peter would respond with a smile. Usually you were here by now to laugh at the way he followed the head of the Daily Bugle around like his lap dog, but as of yet you still hadn’t arrived. Then a horrible thought crossed Peter’s mind, ‘what if you weren’t coming this year.’ He had seen your Father walking about, had even taken a couple of photos of him with various business partners and city officials, but as of yet there had been no sign of you.

Peter checked his watch again hoping you were just running late, but the closer it got to 8.30pm and the start of the meal portion of the night, he started to give up hope. He knew you were busy, always flying between Tokyo, Milan, London and Paris for work; but you were always usually back home for the holidays. He was just about to check his watch again when you came through the door like a whirlwind in red.

He watched you like a Spider sizing up his prey as you made a beeline for your Father. You gave him a rushed greeting and an apologetic kiss to the cheek, before you followed him and the rest of his group to their table, placed closer to the small makeshift stage that had been erected at one end of the long window lined room. He kept his focus on you as you took your seat, your father pushing your chair in for you as you turned to greet one of the other women at the table a couple seats away from you. That was, until J. Jonah Jameson’s booming voice called him away again.

“Parker! You’re over here with us!” He barked as he ushered Peter over to a table on the other side of the room. He was just able to lock eyes with you and give you a friendly smile before he took his seat. “I’ve sat you on this side so you can get the wife’s good side.” Jameson continued to say.

There was a couple of speeches and awards before the food was served. Peter was pleased to find that he was in fact in a good vantage point in which he could take pictures of the stage this year without having to move. He also had a clear sightline to you too, his lens unconsciously moving in your direction every few shots then back again.

Peter had chosen the steak and hasselback potatoes for his dinner with a rich chocolate pudding for dessert. When he finished his meal, he dismissed himself from the table, as he traditionally did, to go around the tables and take a few more candid shots of people before taking a break at the bar. 

“I’ll take an old fashioned, please.” Your familiar voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m sorry I was late.” you said as you leaned into him as if conspiratorially. “My flight got delayed.”

“Where were you coming from this time?” Peter asked as he took a sip from his own drink.

“Boston.” You said with a sigh. It definitely hadn’t been the answer he was expecting and his quizzical look at you said as much. “I was visiting my Mother. Her and her new partner Brad moved there a few months back to be closer to his grandchildren.” You explained.

“I’m guessing that means you got away with not being set up on a blind date this visit.” Peter fished, knowing your Mother’s habits and routines well after these last 5 years of annual hookups.

“You’d think so.” You said as you took a sip of your stiff drink, just to emphasize the drama of it all. “Turns out Maggie’s teacher is single and available.” you say with mock enthusiasm.

“Maggie?” Peter questions.

“One of Brad’s grandchildren.” you fill in with another sigh and eyebrow raise. “I wish she’d just give it a rest, you know?” You pause as you take another sip of your drink before you tell him, “I’m thinking of coming up with a fake boyfriend just to get her off my back. But then I know she’ll be all like ‘when do I get to meet him?’” you say doing an exaggerated impersonation of your Mother’s voice.

“Yeah, I think about doing the same thing with Aunt May sometimes, but I’d hate lying to her.” Peter confided.

“How is your Aunt?” you ask. The one blessing of only seeing each other once a year meant there were always things for you both to talk about and catch up on.

You watch as his face falls, his eyes turning sad as he looks into his drink. “Umm, they’re not good actually. We found out this year she has stage 4 breast cancer. The doctor said this is probably gonna be her last Christmas.” He struggles to look at you.

“Peter, I’m so sorry.” you say, mustering up as much empathy as you can as your hand instinctively comes to rub at his back. “Is there nothing they can do?”

“They said they could try a few different treatments but it wasn’t guaranteed to work and May ultimately decided that… Well she said that she’s lived to a good age and if this is how she is meant to go, this is how she is meant to go.” He paused, blinking hard as he continued to stare at the liquid in his glass. “She said I was a grown man and didn’t need her anymore.” He let out a small unsatisfied chuckle that wreaked of denial, before he finally looked at you again. “I just… I just feel guilty, you know?”

“What for?” You asked him.

“It’s just. I know she was always holding onto this hope that I’d meet someone. That I’d end up finding someone and settling down. Live a life like her and Ben did.”

“But that’s not what you want from your life?” you question him now unsure, as you finally sit yourself on the bar stool next to him. “I mean, if you wanted that, isn’t that what you would have done? Gone out, met a girl. Settled down. You can’t be someone you’re not just to please others.”

“But it was what I wanted.” he suddenly confides. “And that’s why I feel guilty because she knows that. When I first introduced her to Gwen, I said, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry Aunt May.’” he says with gusto, like he’s saying it exactly how he had said it to her, before his body deflates again.

“But things change. People change. We’re allowed to change Peter.”

“I know, but… she just, I know she never gave up hope.”

“You know what they say about hope?” You say.

“It breeds eternal misery,” he bristles.

“No.” You chastise. “It’s like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

Peter’s brow furrows as his head turns back to you. “Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

“Princess Leia.” you smile.

“God I love you.” he says casually with a smile.

“I know.” you continue to beam back before you raise your glass towards him. “For Aunt May?”

“For Aunt May.” he agrees before clinking your glass with his own.

You both creep away a little before midnight, catching a cab back to your apartment. You always went back to your apartment. Peter said it was because he wanted you to be comfortable and said it was more homelier than his place, but the truth was, Peter was ashamed to take you back to his own apartment. It looked like a dingy run down squat or some really dodgy student housing in comparison to your place. 

He didn’t want to kid himself, he knew he was definitely punching above his weight a little when it came to you, not because he necessarily thought he was ugly, but more simply because you had more money than him. You’d never made him feel inferior for it. In fact you’d always wanted to help him by offering to put him in contact with some galleries so he could get more of his work out there. Maybe make some extra cash by selling some of his photos as art for the rich and wealthy, not just to a local paper, but Peter had never had the guts to take you up on the offer. It would make him feel indebted to you and throw the balance of your relationship off even more than it somewhat already was.

“Did you choose red because it’s my favourite color or just for the festivities?” He nibbled on your ear as his fingers ran across the velvet skirt of the dress, dragging it up to your thigh as he pressed himself against your back.

You hadn’t bothered turning on any other lights than the Christmas tree, before you stopped to take a moment to look out your window at the city. Christmas in New York was your favorite time of year. Every year to mark the occasion, you would go down to Rockefeller Plaza, grab a hot chocolate and watch as they turned on the lights. As kids you would go ice skating there. Less so now you were adults, your brother and his own kids had their own tradition of skating in Central Park on Christmas Eve, but some years you would still partake.

“I chose it for the season.” You sighed, your body relaxing back into him, head resting on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck.

“My festive little elf.” He teased as his fingers continued to work up the hem of your dress until they could reach your panties, which you had in fact bought new and chosen with Peter in mind.

“I even brought presents.” You plaid along teasingly.

Your breathing hitched slightly as the pads of his fingers dragged over your lace covered clit.

“Really? For me?” You could feel him smiling into the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“Mhmm.” You hum. “Maybe, you should unwrap me.” You tease back.

“Mmm.” He hums back deeply in delight as he turns you around to face him. The hand that was just ghosting at your centre, now wraps firmly around the back of your neck, as he smashes your rouge stained lips into his. 

His other hand begins pawing at the velvety fabric of your dress again before he’s pulling his face away from you, his grin growing too big and you can’t help but give a satisfying smile back as you notice how your lipstick has transferred from your lips to his, marking him as yours for the evening. Your hand reaches for his and you begin taking steps backwards, pulling him in the direction of your bedroom and awaiting bed.

Your room is a slight mess from your hasty packing before you left for Boston and your equally hasty unpacking upon your return. You’d just had enough time to get home and get changed, rushing your make up and hair, before you left to go to the party. Your suitcase lay open on the floor, some of the contents lay spilling out from where you had hunted around for your makeup bag. The little pink bag from Victoria Secret sat upside down on the floor beside it. Peter spies it the moment he enters the room.

He feigns shock, “Did you buy this for me?” He teases as he picks up the bag.

“Don’t get too excited Parker, they were having a sale.”

“I don’t care.” He says with a boyish grin, despite his 39 years of age. “Come here and let me see.”

You smile at him as you begin to step closer to him before calling out into the room, “Alexa, turn on mood lighting.”

His eyebrows raise as a lamp in the corner of the room turns on, illuminating your bedroom in a magenta hue. “Mood lighting huh?”

“Do you wanna be able to see your Christmas gift or not?” You sass back with a hand on your hip.

“I mean, I’ve always thought of you as my Christmas present, regardless of what you wear.” He says as his fingers begin to grab for you again and pull you into him.

“Next year I won’t bother then.”

“Oh no, you’ve made it a thing now. I’m gonna expect this, every- single- year- from now on.” He says between kisses across your cheek and down your neck and upper chest. You begin to giggle and shriek in delight as his lips gently nibble at your skin. “Mmm.  Come on then. Let’s see what you got for me.” He says ripping himself away from you so you have the space to reach behind you for the zipper to your dress. 

The dress begins to relax its hold on your body, slowly exposing the black strapless lace bra to Peter before you slide the dress down the rest of your body to show off the matching lacey bikini briefs. You carefully step out of the puddle that now is the red velvet dress on your floor, your ankles only wobbling slightly as you still stand in your heels for him to take in the full sight.

He pauses for a moment silently taking you in before he gives a small nod. “Yes. Yes, this will do. Excuse me a moment while I go and write my thank you letter to San-“

“Peter.” You whine.

“Oh come on, don’t be bratty with me now.” He says jokingly as he steps closer and wraps you in his arms again.

“I thought you liked it when I was bratty.” You joke back as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Nope. You become completely intolerable and insufferable and…” You roll your eyes as he continues to list words, but nonetheless, begin to snake your arms from around his neck, trailing them down his chest as you begin to get down on your knees before him.

You begin to work open the button of his jeans, freeing his semi hard cock from its confines. He only stops his fake monologue about you acting like a brat when you take his length into your mouth and his hand involuntarily reaches out for the side of your head as he sighs. 

The only sounds that fill the room now are his small gasps and moans and your saliva slick lips around his cock. One of your hands braces itself on his thigh, whilst the other works the rest of his shaft your mouth won’t reach.

You pull off him with a sloppy pop of your lips and Peter groans before you begin to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue and he jumps away from you with sensitivity, suddenly worried he’d blow his load too soon if you continue like that. It makes you giggle.

His fingers reach around the flesh of your bicep and he pulls you up off the floor before pulling you into him, his head nuzzling into your neck, lips and teeth nibbling and teasing at your skin and driving you crazy. He’d worked out that you liked that on the second Christmas you had slept together. He loved the way it made you sigh but also giggle and shriek when the sensation grew too much.

“Ahhh Peter.” you cried out with a high pitched moan. 

He reluctantly broke himself away from you and the intoxicating smell of your favorite perfume so you could latch your mouth onto his, a satisfied smile struggling to be contained on your lips. He can’t help but smile back.

“Peter!” you shriek and giggle as he reaches around to pick you up and drop you back onto the covers of your bed.

Your hands get lost in his hair as he begins kissing his way down your chest. Your stomach involuntarily twitches as his lips move across it and the way his hands reach for your hips to forcefully hold you in place sends you reeling, a wave of arousal soaking your panties. His lips skip over your underwear, instead kissing at the inside of your thigh as his hands begin to relax on your hips, his fingers curling under the waistband of your underwear, ready to pull them down.

As he removes you of your underwear, he also takes the opportunity to rid himself of the flattering black long sleeved top he’d been wearing all evening. The removal of his shirt reveals a silver necklace that had been hiding beneath the shirt and the way the chain hangs off his neck has you biting your lip. It is so rare to see a man wear jewelry so you never realized the effect the sight had on you before, but there's something about the connotations and hidden meaning to it, his choice and confidence to wear it, makes you want to rub your thighs together in want. 

His fingers are suddenly teasing at your entrance though and its almost enough to take the edge off, or it would be if his finger hadn’t stopped at the first knuckle of his middle finger. You realize he’s only done it so he can spread the arousal that was already leaking out of your cunt around between your folds and across your clit so he can then go in and lick it all off. Your head falls back into the pillows of your bed as you sigh out his name in relief.

You can feel the focus he has radiating off of him without even looking as he begins to expertly lick up from your entrance, swirl his tongue around your clit and then back down again as he draws moans, ever increasing in volume, from your lips. You found out very early on in your yearly dalliances that he was an expert with that tongue, making you cum not once, not twice, but three times just from his tongue alone, when you told him no one had ever actually gotten you off that way before.

You could feel your first climax of the night building low within you, your muscles growing tight, clit growing extra sensitive as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, encouraging him and guiding him and not allowing him to pull away until you finished. The pressure of his tongue grew firmer and you ground your clit down against it until that tight thread within you snapped, your hips stuttering as pleasure rippled through you. He held tightly onto you, lapping up everything you gave him and helping you ride it out until you were actively pushing him away from you. He gave your bare thighs a small satisfactory slap as he gave you his smug tight lipped  smile that seemed to say ‘another happy customer’ and you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle before turning your head and trying to hide the ear to ear smile that was on your face.

You were able to compose yourself as he shifted from the bed to shuck himself fully off the rest of his clothes, his jeans joining your red dress in a puddle on the floor, before he carefully lifted the necklace off over his head and placed it on your bedside table. You shifted yourself over on the bed as he came down to rest beside you, his hand reaching out to pull your face to him as he gave you a kiss before he encouraged you to climb up on top of him.  Your lips didn’t part from his as you straddled his waist, your cunt involuntarily rubbing itself along his hard length as your tongues intermingled with one another.

His fingers reached round to grab a hold of your ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as he encouraged you to grind down harder. You moaned and gasped against his lips at the drag of your clit across his skin. Your open mouth before him allowed him to reach out for your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth making you moan louder, before he began to trail kisses down your chin and neck. You closed your eyes, getting lost in the feeling and the sounds of your own voice. It sent a new flood of arousal between your legs and you could feel Peter grinning against your skin as you worked your slick over his length.

You paused only long enough to reach over to your chest of drawers, pulling a box of condoms out of the second drawer. The position allowed Peter to attach his mouth over your breasts, his teeth biting at them over the lace bra. You reached behind you to unclasp it and take it off as you sat upright, Peter’s hands resting patiently on the tops of your thighs as he waited for you to then open the condom. You held out the torn open packet for him to take the condom and start rolling it down onto his length as you reached back over the side of the bed to drop the wrapper in the bin. 

You shifted your legs back slightly as you recentred yourself, one hand balancing on the bed, the other on his bare chest as he lined himself up with your entrance. He glided the tip of his cock against your folds, covering the tip of his cock with your slick before he began to encourage you back onto it. The slow fill of his cock inside you had you letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, your eyes falling closed, head tilting back as you savored the feeling.

It had been a slow year. Despite a brief hook up with a guy over the summer after a night out with friends and a quick tinder hookup in your hotel in Rome (where the guy spoke barely a lick of English), your only companion had been your old reliable rabbit toy. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been counting down the days to tonight the whole time you had been visiting your Mother. When your flight had been delayed, it was the thought of missing out on your one good and guaranteed fuck of the year that had stressed you out. Now it all seemed worth it.

Peter started slowly, his hips pushing up into you at an agonizing pace as he guided you down and your hips back with every thrust, the contours of his cock dragging agonizingly slowly across every sensitive spot inside you, working you up gradually to another earth shattering climax. Your body bowed over him as you let out small gasps of praise into his forehead, your fingers gripping tightly into the sheets either side of his head. You felt one of his hands run soothingly up your back and it sent shivers down your spine that only added to the sensation building in between your legs.

“Peter.” you sighed against him, as you pressed your forehead into his, your eyes closed in concentration as you chased that feeling inside you.

“What is it? What do you need?” his voice gently calls to you as he moves the hand that was caressing your back round behind your neck, pulling your lips down to his for a kiss.

“More. I need more.” you say equally as gently back into his lips. 

You feel his head give a small nod in acknowledgment before he seals the deal with a kiss, as his thrusts begin to grow quicker and firmer in pace. It makes him hit something deep inside you that has you crying out. Your eyes fly open, desperate to lock onto his. He looks up at you with such beauty and gratitude. It makes you want to kiss him again and you do, your tongue licking deeply and slowly into his mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.

Your thighs shudder slightly as the sensation between your legs changes and you know your cumming again but the feeling of his cock moving between your legs doesn’t stop. It works you through the high and he still doesn’t stop. Instead his thrusts grow fast as he searches for his own release. You brace yourself, holding yourself over him as he just takes what he wants. If he holds out long enough you think you can get out one more orgasm of your own.

You balance yourself on one arm as your other hand reaches between your legs, swirling rapidly at your clit as you push yourself against his length, feeling every sensation of his rapid thrust. Peter grunts in response at the sensation of your fluttering cunt and it forces him to find one final push, his hips sputtering only slightly before he increases his angle and speed one last time, then he’s embracing you.

His arms wrap tightly around you as your final climax soaks his cock. Your head is buried into his neck as you try to shut out the overstimulation for just a few more strokes of his cock before he stills, his length pulsating as he finishes, only adding to the sensitivity between your legs making you squirm. He’s quick to push you off him as you do, his own sensitivity unable to take the feeling.

You both pause breathing deeply as you come down before he gives you a small tap and you flop onto your side on the bed. He quickly gets up, kicking his legs out to disperse the blood around them as his cock softens. You close your eyes to revel in the last dregs of your orgasm as he goes to your adjoining ensuite to sort himself out.

He takes a little longer than usual and you begin to frown, but then you hear the flush of the toilet and the door opening and you settle. You quickly get up, flashing him a smile as you hobble to your bathroom with legs like a newborn calf. Usual he’d let out a proud little chuffing laugh but this year he doesn’t.

When you return to see him sat on the side of the bed in his underwear, his fingers reaching to fix the necklace he had taken off back over his head and around his neck, you realize he looks distracted. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you ask him as you climb over the bed to your rightful side and slip between the covers.

His head turns, eyebrows raising as if he’s only just noticed you’re back in the room. “Huh?” he says. “Oh, nothing.”

“Really?” you say as he shuffles himself round to face you, put he doesn’t get under the covers. Peter doesn’t sleep over. He stays for a debrief and a chat for maybe another hour, some years two, but always leaves to return to his own apartment and bed.

“It’s just,” he says as he places an arm under his head as he gets himself comfortable, “I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”

“What did I say earlier?” you reply as you shift into a similar position to his, facing him. You look like two kids at a slumber party who have moved so close to each other so you can whisper really quietly and not disturb the others who are sleeping.

“About pretending to have a boyfriend to get your Mom off your case.”

You frown at him, “Yeah, but it’d never work because she’d want to meet him.”

“Okay, yeah.” he says, but his tone isn’t one of defeat, it instead says ‘wait, hear me out’. “But what if you had someone to take home and pretend to be said boyfriend?”

You’re still confused. “What are you trying to get at here Parker?” You suddenly sit up, placing distance between the two of you as a realization hits you. “Wait, this isn’t you asking me out or trying to be my boyfriend is it? You know I don’t really do the whole dating thing. We have our arrangement and that's-”

“No. NO. Would you just hear me out.” he speaks over you and cuts you off as he too sits up defensively. “Look, I just thought we could come to some sort of arrangement.” You’re silent as he pauses and takes a deep breath and you wait for him to continue. “Okay.” he says, his hands folding in his lap, “This is probably gonna be my Aunt May’s last Christmas.” he says and the implication of his words make you bristle. He struggles to look at you, but your eyes remain fixed on him so he know that you are listening and paying attention, even if his words are starting to make you uncomfortable. “I don’t want her to die thinking I’m gonna spend the rest of my life alone, you know? I mean,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts before he continues, “I don’t want her to die without hope.”

“Okay.” you acknowledge quietly as you follow his words.

“So I was thinking, what if- just for this christmas,” he emphasizes, “what if we pretend to you know, actually date. Come the New Year we go our separate ways as normal, no strings attached, but you know, just to get our families off our backs so we can live our chosenly single lives.” He screws up his face a little at the word chosenly, which he’s all but sure he’s made up but figures he’s gotten his point across.

“So, we pretend to date for the holidays to get our parents off our backs?” you frown, checking you’ve got his proposal right.

“Yeah. You’d come for Christmas Eve dinner with my Aunt and I’ll…” his voice trails off as he wracks his brain for an equal solution for you.

“You’ll come to Boston with me for my Mother’s New Years party.” You fill in for him.

He hesitates a second realizing he’d actually need to travel and stay with you and your family to make things even on your side of things, but the thought of letting May die thinking he’s going to be lonely forever, has his stomach turning more so he hastily agrees. “Fine, but-” he interjects, knowing a single day with his Aunt for a supposedly 2-3 day trip with your family isn’t a fair exchange, “if my Aunt is still with us in February, you have to stop by on Valentines day.”

“I thought you just said we go our separate ways come January.” You respond.

“Yes, but one meal with my Aunt in comparison to a multi day trip to Boston is hardly an equal-”

“Fine. Fine.” You concede with your hands raised.

He relaxes slightly as you come to an agreement. “You wanna shake hands on it or something?” he offers. You roll your eyes, your fingers reaching for the pillow you’d pulled into your lap to nervously fiddle with instead, picking it up and throwing it at him. “Hey.” he jokingly exclaims as he holds his hands up to catch the pillow before it hits him in the face. “Is that any way to treat your new boyfriend?” he deadpans.

“Uuuhhgg.” you scoff back with another eye roll but you can’t help the tiny smirk that creeps into the corner of your mouth.

I'm going to upload the other parts of this mini series on the dates that match up with the story (Christmas Eve, New Years Eve), if you want to be added to the list below, please put it in writing. All current tags have been taken from likes, reblogs or comments from other posts about this series, if you wish to be removed, just let me know. (I had a few more names who liked posts but it wouldn't let me tag you, apologies, I'm not sure how to fix that but I hope this finds you anyway.) Once again if you did like this, please don't just like it, respond with some words of your own to give me a boost.

@sincericida @tarzinnia @raindropsandteaandtears @xenasolos @dil3mma @ms-wild-card-56 @shivani1902

[trashforhockeyguys]

Vienna Waits For You -8- William Nylander

“Miss Bradshaw Krietzburg, I think it’s very possible that this will work in our favor.”

“Mr. Jefferies, all due respect, but I need to know that it will work. We’ve combed over every line of these contracts.”

“Is there really no loophole she can exploit?” Jackson questioned, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Well, there is one option, although it requires radical action.”

It took Avalyn two months to finally decide to take action against her management team. Jackson was able to hire a lawyer on her behalf, so that her team wouldn’t know anything about it. Together, the three of them met weekly, sometimes more than once, to try to find a way to rid Avalyn of her management. 

She hadn’t spoken to William since that night in her apartment. They were like strangers to each other again, only seeing one another when it came to work related functions. But everytime she saw him from across the room, or on the ice during a game, her chest hurt. She missed seeing him all of the time, missed being with him and talking to him. 

Jackson walked out of the small office with Ava. Both of them had a day off from filming, although they were nearing a break that would last a few weeks. Production wanted to finalize the first two episodes and present them to the studio to make sure that they’d be allowed to continue before finishing off the season. 

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” Jackson asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

Jackson had been grasping at straws for weeks, doing everything he could to get Avalyn to show interest in anything. The only thing she could focus on outside of filming, was doing everything in her power to get out from underneath her parents. Everything else was just…nothing to her. 

The makeup team had a hell of a time making her look better on screen than she did in real life now. Her cheeks hollowed out a little more again, with large dark circles under her eyes. He knew she didn’t sleep much, or eat more than the bare minimum. She was slipping, and there was little he could do other than keep throwing out a rope and hoping she’d grab it one day.

“No, it's best if I don’t. Besides, I want to make sure I have everything down before the shoot on Monday,” She replied, pulling her coat closer to her body. 

“Avey, you have to give yourself a break at some point. You can’t keep working yourself like this.”

She smiled sadly at Jackson, “I keep working so I don’t have time to think.”

He pulled her close, holding her head against his chest in an effort to block out the world, “I wish I could just fix it all for you. God, I wish you didn’t have to deal with any of this anymore.”

She held onto him, feeling relaxed in his arms, “I know. But I’ll be okay Jacks. We’ll find a way out of my contracts.” 

She pulled away enough to see his face. Avalyn tried not to pay much attention to the worried look he had, instead she brushed some of his long hair away from his eyes and tried her best to smile, “Go to the game. Have some fun.”

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep?” He seemed to beg her, “Don’t obsess over the scripts all night.”

“I’ll do my best. Now go, I don’t want you to miss anything.” She shooed him away, “I love you.”

“I love you more.” 

She forces a smile as she makes her way out of the office. For the past month it felt like she couldn't breathe. Like an elephant was sitting on her chest, forcing the air from her lungs. She tried to fight it, but the unbearable pressure from her parents was getting worse. 

Jefferies thought that maybe she could sue them for her rights, or something like that. But she was afraid of what would happen if she took things to a court, because of how nasty they could get. She knew first hand how vicious they could be when they wanted to be. 

Her phone going off drew her out of her thoughts, she pulled it out of her pocket and answered it without even paying attention to who was calling. 

“Avalyn Bradshaw Kiretzburg.”

“Do you always answer your phone that way?” 

She feels her shoulders sag at the sound of his voice, slowly breaking down every barrier she spent the last several weeks trying to build. She leaned against the wall in the hallway leading to her apartment. She hadn’t talked to him since that night in her apartment. The news about the show broke, she went on several more talk shows with the cast. Her parents scrambled to make it seem like this was something they approved of. But the reception was incredible, everyone seemed to be excited about the new hockey show hitting streaming services within the year. It made Avalyn incredibly proud to be a part of it. 

“Only when I don’t pay attention to who’s calling,” She admitted shyly. 

“Ah, so that’s why you picked up,” He laughs, filling her ears with the wonderful sound. 

“You know we can’t do this,” she sighed, digging in her pocket for her keys. 

“No, I just know you say we can’t,” He rebutted, “I don’t care much about what your parents think.”

“I care too much about you,” She shakes her head, “My dad could have your career ended with a single phone call.”

“Yeah, I don’t buy that,” She can picture his smile as he shakes his head, “Anyway, I wanted to see if you’re coming to the game tonight.” 

“You know I won’t be there,” She tells him softly, “It would cause too many questions. Jackson though, he’ll be there with some of the other cast members.” 

“So you can’t come because?” 

“People are already questioning those pictures of us from a little while back,” She rushed to explain, “I can’t give anyone a reason to look closer. I can’t give them a reason to look at you.” 

“So, more of your self preservation bullshit,” He surmised, “Got it.”

“Will-” 

“Look, I like you Ava, you know that. But I can’t wait for you to decide to live your life,” He informs her, “You have to make that decision. No one can make it for you.” 

“Willy I-” 

“I gotta go, game is getting ready to start. Just wanted to hear your voice before I got on the ice.” 

She wanted to say more. Wanted to beg for him to wait for you to get out from underneath your parents. She was so close she could taste freedom. She just wasn’t sure how to get it, no matter how badly she wanted it.

 So instead she gave it another week, waiting for her next meeting with Mr. Jefferies, when she finally asked what the most radical thing to do would be. He took his time explaining how many moving parts this plan would entail, and how important it was that it go off without a hitch. No one outside of the room could know about it. All she knew is she wanted to be free. 

Avalyn wanted to be rid of her parents once and for all. No matter what it might mean for her career. Jackson was ready to talk to his agent and see if they’d be willing to take Avalyn on as a client, provided they would sign an NDA beforehand, so they couldn’t tell anyone else about this either. 

She longed to tell William. Longed to tell him that she was trying to live her life to the best of her ability. But she just needed to get through the next month and then everything would be different. 

“I’ll need a place to crash, off the grid, once news breaks,” Avalyn stated. 

“What about Rose’s place? The homestead with her family?” Jackson questioned, “She’s coming to guest star on the show next week, we can talk to her.” 

“I don’t want to drag Ro into this though,” Ava sighs. 

“You know she’ll be happy to help. You’ll be safe there, no one even knows where she lives.” 

Avalyn sinks further into her seat, knowing her friend was right. Roisin Quinnlyn, or more famously known as  Rose Quinn was a famous singer and actress and a good friend of Avalyn and Jackson’s. One of the only ones left after Margot’s tirade. She stuck with them throughout all of it, never once turning her back on them. 

Rose was the daughter of Irish immigrant parents, who then brought her grandparents over as well. The family had a homestead of sorts in the state of New York, tucked away where no one really knows. The locals don’t talk about her being there, in fact they protect her in every way that they possibly could. 

Avalyn realized it was one of the few places she actually felt at home. Aside from the home she was slowly making for herself here in Toronto. 

“Yeah, okay,” She finally agrees, “Make the arrangements.” 

Jackson finally relaxes in his chair, knowing his best friend would be free soon. He hated seeing what her parents did to her all of these years. Hated seeing how they broke her down and stole her spirit. He thought some of it had come back when she moved here for the show, but he watched as it slowly disappeared again. 

“Good,” Jacks smiled, “I’ll call Rose tonight and see if she’s game. But she hates your parents as much as we do, so I’m sure she’ll be down to cause some trouble.” 

“You and Rose only cause trouble,” Avalyn rolled her eyes. 

He smiled again, big and bright at her. Showing off his dimples. There was a pang in Avalyn’s chest at the thought that they wouldn’t have to fake date anymore, which meant she wouldn’t see as much of him when they weren’t filming together. She was selfish in the way that she wanted to keep him in her life as much as she possibly could. She loved him, in more ways than one. 

“It’ll be good to see her again though,” He adds in, “It’s been a while.” 

Rose was just coming off the back of a world tour, which sold out every venue. Avalyn and Jackson were lucky enough to catch one of her shows in LA before she went for her European leg. You were in awe of your friend as you watched her on stage, you loved watching her do what she loved. 

“You should talk to Willy,” Jackson said as the two of them made their way back to her apartment, “He really misses you.” 

“I know he does,” She said softly, “I miss him too, but I can’t risk his career, not when I’m so close to getting out.” 

“So after it’s all over? Will you talk to him then?” He asks. 

“I’ll do more than just talk to him,” She admits, “I’ll get on my knees and beg for him.” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever begged for anything,” Jackson lets out a laugh.

She shakes her head, “I begged for him before, begged for my parents to leave him alone. It was the first time I tried to get my way with them.” 

Jackson wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, “We’ll get you through this. But right now, there are people taking pictures of us, so shut up and kiss me like you love me.” 

“I do love you,” She rolled her eyes, but stood on her tiptoes so she could reach his lips. 

It didn’t feel the same as kissing William. There was no spark with Jacks. Never had been. Anything they did together, they did because they were made to, or it was just safest to do it with one another. They had sex together because it was safe to do so. The other party wouldn't sell the story or anything. Rose and William were the only ones who knew it even happened. 

“I love you,” She forced herself to say overly lovingly. 

“I love you too,” There was a hint of sadness in his voice, in his eyes too, “C’mon, let's get you home.”

[ride-a-dromedary]

Alright, the jack in the box is wound, and the coherence is coming to me. Halsin and the dryad, I was talking about his response if the PC indicates that he is most comfortable after a supper large enough to induce hibernation:

"Mindless gorging...? No, that is not right. I did not realize you thought that of me."

And why this keeps catching in my mind is not necessarily what he says, but how he says it (so I am commending Dave Jones' voice acting here). The rest of Halsin's responses to incorrect answers are generally even toned and corrective; firm, usually, but not inherently overly emotional. Much like a teacher correcting a student. But this one...he sounds genuinely surprised and taken aback that the PC would even suggest that. The "no, that is not right" is even firmer on its heels. And the last part...the last part, his voice is smaller. Less forward. I would not go so far as to suggest hurt, but it is approaching that territory. It comes so fast after his firm no, that it almost sounds like something that slipped by accident. Like something that was meant to be muttered under the breath, but it slipped from him because the surprise was so organic.

Alone, it doesn't mean too much. It's a slight offense to an obviously nonfactual statement. And that's likely all it is. I'm about to read too deep into this, I am aware.

But combined with the other things spread throughout Halsin's dialogue, particularly the implication that he is otherwise used to people making commentary on his physical appearance or the physicality of his being, it suggests an extra layer of hurt. An extra layer of: "I did not expect this from you, of all people." Not quite a betrayal, but approaching one.

What makes it particularly catching, is that one of the things you are able to wrench (and I say wrench because getting Halsin to share mundane personal details about himself is a production - and it makes *sense* it's a production if a. We keep in mind that Halsin himself doesn't seem all too sure who he is beyond his preoccupation - which elves are prone to but Halsin also just has...a lot on his plate that have evidently stunted his identity formation - to the point where he even claims he was forgetting who he was, and b. If he is used to questions concerning himself and his experience leading into questions regarding his sex life or his physical activities, see: the companion banter with Wyll and Karlach, he likely...doesn't really keep ready details about himself personally on tap anymore. He's so unused to people being interested in Halsin, that he's taken aback when they are. It becomes the "In the moment, I forget everything and anything I like to do for fun" mentality - no one really cares about what I like to do anyway - if you will. He even goes so far as to joking that the PC may be a doppelganger because *why else would they want to know these things*) out of Halsin when you ask him about himself is that he has a sweet tooth. That he likes honey, and people find that amusing. He chuckles, but his face falls, evidently prepping for the PC to make a similar comment (and he attempts to beat you to the joke about that, though a PC can still call that "on the nose" to which he responds that there is little point in denying oneself if it doesn't hurt anybody - indulging isn't a bad thing). If the PC instead chooses that he should pay little attention to what others think, he gives that infamous: "sometimes I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt" line. Which implies - regardless of whether he verbalizes it or not - things in this thread hurt his feelings. Comments or assumptions about his body and his person hurt his feelings. He won't say it, but they do. The PC is likely aware of this by this point in the relationship.

Halsin does not otherwise bring up eating or food to any level of significance or directness - the sweet tooth comment was the only time (you could assume outside of canon interactions that they've had other conversations between them and that perhaps this was brought up, but we are going to base this solely in what Halsin reveals in canon). He brings up hibernation, but specifically the sleeping part of it. Nothing else.

So, the PC then potentially goes ahead and makes an assumption of him during the dryad. How'd they arrive at this conclusion, as it obviously surprises Halsin that they did? It reads, very much, that the PC is making this assumption based on the comment about his sweet tooth, his comment on indulgence, and his physicality (note: the ha ha bear and hibernation thing almost seems like an afterthought - Halsin latches *very* quickly onto the "mindless gorging" part). All things that he has shown very evident discomfort (which is ironic because the question is when he feels most comfortable) or hesitance towards (he claims there is nothing wrong with indulgence, but never seems to indulge himself beyond sex, if that. Gee, what does that remind you of?)

Halsin entrusted this individual with this information, as frivolous as it was, potentially revealed that it hurts his feelings when people make assumptions of him, and this individual then went used that information and made the assuming connection: "So, this is a big man. He said he liked sugar, so he must like to eat and indulge. It must be his favourite thing to do because look at him." I am going to essentially ignore everything else I could have possibly heard, and make a bear hibernation joke that has nothing to do with sleeping being a comfort, but emphasize the eating part.

So, yeah, he's a little taken aback - incredulous, you might say. A little hurt. Resigned, almost. Because at that point, you can make a very logical assumption that Halsin came to a very quick snap realization that perhaps this person was not so different from the others as he thought. That it always eventually comes back to that. What else was he expecting? When has it ever been any different for him?

[jessequinones]

Writing Advice: Beta Readers

It occurred to me a lot of my advice comes down to “ask beta readers” However that advice isn’t good if you’re unsure of how to ask for help from beta readers so hopefully, this article should help you.

There are many different ways of asking beta readers for help. The most obvious one is by casting a large net and seeing who you get. There are writing groups and circles all over the internet where you can do this. I use Facebook and Discord as my main sources for beta readers. Whenever I cast my large net, I typically am just looking for what the average reader's opinion of my book is. I just want to see what others have to say. I’ll jot down anything that multiple readers stated and go from there. For instance, in my first book, it was very common to hear that my main character wasn’t well-liked, so I had to fix him. However, it was also common to hear one of my other characters was extremely well-liked, so I didn’t have to do anything to her.

Sometimes it’s a good idea to cast a large net, but only for your target audience. These readers will give you more details on your stories as they’re aware of the tropes, and the genre you're writing about. I would pay attention to these readers opinions a bit more as they’re your target audience. These people are the ones you want to read your final product and if they aren’t enjoying it now, you might need to figure out what’s going on. Personally, I would first cast an overall net, see who you get for your first couple rounds of editing, and then make your net smaller with each throw. After your non-target beta readers are done, recast, but for your target audience instead.

People often ask, how many beta readers do you need and the answer is as many as you think. Some people get hundreds of readers, while others only get twenty. It’s hard finding people to read your story for free, so I always try to offer swaps. If someone reads my story I’ll read theirs. Keep in mind if you give your story to one hundred people, only ten might finish it, and another ten might get halfway. That’s not to say your writing is bad as plenty of factors might make someone not finish your story. Factors such as, they have a busy life and forgot or your story wasn't interesting. I always keep a list of whom I gave my story and ask them in a couple months how was the story? I only do this once as I don’t want to pester them, but I understand life happens and they might’ve only read a couple of chapters.

The biggest fear when handing out your book to random people is “Are they stealing my story?” While the answer you’ll get online is “no” the truth of the matter is, you won’t know. Always keep every version of your story, even after completing it. If you can, keep the messages and details of the people you give your stories to. That way, after you release your story, if someone goes up to you and says “Your story sounds a lot like ___” you’ll have receipts of it not being the case. Also, make sure to date your versions as well. While the chances of someone stealing your unfinished story and finishing it themselves are small, it’s safer to protect yourself by doing the small things just in case. I also tend to talk to my beta readers beforehand, to get to know them. This seems like a weird thing, but I rather give my book to someone I was able to have twenty messages with instead of three.

Beta readers are also good just for small things instead of reading your entire story. If you really need help with a certain character, a trope, or anything else. You can ask beta readers who are good at helping you with that. Let’s go with this example, you struggle to write relationships and you really want to know if this relationship is good or not. You can ask beta readers who love romances and then give them the chapters you want that are about romance. Sometimes they might ask for a bit more chapters if you give too little and that’s fine. If you just need another pair of eyes, asking people to be your second pair of eyes is fine.

Those seconded pair of eyes don’t have to be your target audience either. Someone who doesn’t care for fantasy but likes romance can help you with the romance section of your story if that’s what you need help with. If you want to know how the first ten chapters go, just ask people if they’re willing to read the first ten chapters. This is what I mean by casting a smaller net with every cast. Do one or two big nets for the average opinion, then recast for your target audience, and then keep casting for individual sections of your story.

“What about professional beta readers?” Professional beta readers are great and you don’t have to find ones who are just your target audience. If they’re worth their weight, they’ll help you even if you give them a story they might typically not read. You’re paying them for a service and they’ll give you more advice than any normal beta reader. I understand people go with “You don’t have to pay beta readers” but sometimes it’s not a bad thing. If you pay for a professional beta reader, it’s more likely they’ll finish your story because if they don’t you can kind of ruin their name by going to other writers and being like “Don’t pay for this person's service, they’ll take your money and run.” So professional beta readers are way more likely to finish your story and give you better feedback so you can give their name to other writers who are also looking for beta readers.

For professional beta readers, always use them to their fullest. Ask them what their strengths are, and have them focus on that. If they’re good at visualising your world, ask them to focus on the imagery, world-building, and lore. If they love well-written characters, ask them to focus on your characters. Professional beta readers are often quicker to return your story, as well. My advice, ask these people for help after you’ve gone through a few rounds of normal beta readers. While they’re great, if your story is rough, and you know it’s rough then all they’ll tell you is that your story is rough. (That’s fine if you need help figuring out how to make your story smoother) but giving them a story that’s gone through the rounds a few times, will make them focus on more smaller aspects, aspects other readers missed.

Not all beta readers are good. Sometimes you might get a beta reader who really doesn’t like your story and tears it to shreds. It happens. I once had a beta reader who criticised me to hell and back saying the military in my dragon story wasn’t realistic...sir...it’s a story about talking dragons, of course, it wasn’t gonna be realistic. The guy went on to complain saying it’s clear the only thing I knew about the military was because I played Call of Duty and again...sir...I was in the military and this story was a response to me being in the military...huh? Safe to say, I didn’t take that guy’s advice. That might happen to you. Someone reads your story and really doesn’t like it, it sucks but it happens.

Jot down everything good and everything bad a beta reader gives you. You shouldn’t change everything based on everyone's feedback, but pay more attention if something is coming up multiple times. I saw this advice going around and I liked it. “Beta readers can’t tell you how to fix your book, they can only tell you how they feel about it” This rule doesn’t apply to paid beta readers as oftentimes you can hire them as editors later but I digress. If you have several beta readers who feel like something is off with your main character, you might want to look them over again, but if one person complains about the military in your dragon story, feel free to give that one a skip. The same advice goes if multiple beta readers enjoy a certain element in your story but one person doesn’t, listen to your masses.

Keep a record of beta readers who not only enjoyed your story but also ones you vibe with. Having the same person go over your story, or multiple stories is great because they can pick up on things others might’ve missed. After all, after reading a few of your stories they can start picking up on your writing style. I always try to offer something in return for anyone who’s been a multiple beta reader for me. I’ll try to keep these people for the last bunch of beta readers you need. After your story has gone through a few rounds of editing, and it’s a bit smoother, asking someone familiar with your works to help point out any boulders on your smooth road that others might’ve missed is great and these people are the only ones who can see those boulders because they’re familiar with your story and you.

If you’re writing a multiple-series story, should you only find people who read your first one to be your beta readers? If you can, that’ll be great, but let’s say, one hundred people read book one, tracking down all one hundred people isn’t possible, and you might only find sixty, then only ten of those people might complete book two in it’s beta forum. This is where returning beta readers come in handy but you can’t expect to have many of those. What I do is I create a small section at the beginning of my story explaining what happened in the previous book so that everyone who is helping me with book two and who might’ve not read book one can get an overall idea of what’s going on.

I think that’s about all of the advice about beta readers I can give for now. Beta readers are great. When it comes to writing, there’s no right or wrong way to write and there's no right or wrong way of how to read or enjoy a story. Beta readers are great at expressing their feelings and opinions but keep in mind, they aren’t editors. If all you need is someone to express their opinion on your story or go over a couple of things, beta readers are great, but if you need more detailed help, then you’ll need editors, mainly in the development side of things but that’s advice for another day.

[hibernationsuit-remade]

25 for the micro story :3c

THANK UUUUU and sorry for taking so long sjfknfjgjgk

senseless Do you ever get a feeling that you made a wrong choice? That's what Tobias thinks about choosing Frank to advertise their skincare start up's products. Clearly Frank's taking it as a way to advertise himself. Or was joining the whole start up a wrong choice? Nah, it's probably Frank. tws: suggestive/nsft-ish talk

"Toby, my guy, I thought your knee has healed already..."

Frank's voice half startled, half woke Tobias up. It took him a few moments to realize that 1) he was in his office, 2) he had fallen asleep at his desk at some point, when?, and 3) that Frank somehow made it in without keys, which meant that Tobias forgot to lock the door. Again.

"I- um. What?"

"Saw you walking slowly yesterday and avoiding going downstairs," Frank said quickly while sitting down into the leather chair in front of the desk, "Been in our field long enough to know what that means."

"Okay, well," Toby was still barely functioning after the unexpected nap, which made it difficult to keep up with Frank, "First off... your field, not 'our'," he paused, trying to formulate his reply, and second, no it's not the injury you're thinking off. Played basketball with Aleena two days ago."

"Wow, you must look amazing in basketball shorts."

"Law, shut the fuck up."

"Aren't you just hard to talk to today...You have a post-it note on your forehead, by the way." Frank leaned over the desk and took it off the man's face before he could even react. "It says 'Message Frank', would you look at that. Well, I'm here now, go on."

Tobias sighed and looked at the papers laying in front of him, trying to remember what he need to message Frank about.

"Take as much time as you need, Toby," Frank leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the corner of the desk, "I've got lots of time... Do you have a minibar in your office?"

"I don't drink", Tobias mumbled, "There's a bottle of champagne somewhere though, if you're interested in killing time by playing treasure hunt. Some big corporation guys brought one for both me & Aleena. You can have it."

"Maybe later."

"Whatever."

"You okay?"

"No- I mean, yeah I guess. A bit tired and all, too many meetings and tasks, too little time," Tobias said and leaned back in his chair, "I wanted to talk about these photos they took of you a week ago." He pulled three images from a brown envelope and placed them in front of Frank. "I think that you're, well... Law, how should I say this."

Frank didn't even pay attention on the images. "You really need a break. Or at least do something that will help you relax."

"...Can you please concentrate?"

"Can you?"

Tobias rolled his eyes and said calmly, "What I want to say is that clearly you read the instructions wrong or something. You were invited to advertise the products, not yourself. And what do these images have? Your overly attractive smile that only tells people to remember to cheer for you in the next season of some competition. Or even something that could be on a corporate elections, 'Vote Frank!'" he sighed and continued, "Should've went with some cartoonish drawings instead..."

"You're so cute when you try to hide you being angry and disappointed."

"What."

"Remember when you heard you got to the fourth place in short program? Should've seen your face at that moment."

"Frank, I am serious, you-"

"Are you sure your exhaustion does not affect how you look at these photos?" Frank stood up and walked to the other side of the desk, and sat on it right in front of Tobias. "Look at you. Sleeping at your desk? Do you even remember what you were doing before? You need a break."

"That's a lot coming from a guy who's only into sports."

"Am I wrong though?" Frank leaned closer, "You should take a small vacation, or at least two days off. Go do something fun. Or someone."

"What's that last one supposed to mean."

"Well," Frank placed his hand gently on Tobias's cheek and whispered, "I could...kiss you senseless just to bring that relaxation, watch you smile from all those nice brain hormones, or whatever. You're the specialist."

"I don't think a sudden spike in oxytocin will do any good in a long run."

"I'm not saying it could only happen once."

"...Tempting, do tell me more."

[some-triangles]

2023 IN REVIEW

So, the most important thing that happened this year is I got married. My wife likes to dress me up in extravagant outfits and draw me little cartoons. I am more content as a human being than I ever have been.

This doesn't mean my brain problems have gone away. If anything, the good stuff I have now has thrown the bad stuff into sharper relief, internally and externally. It's harder to ignore depression and anxiety when you're not by yourself. When the people around you aren't actively contributing to your agita and there are no more ambitions you got which remain unfulfilled (apart from the silly ones like being so rich you never have to work again) it kind of highlights how, y'know, the call is coming from inside the house, where the house is my body, and the gremlin living in the attic is my brain.

I am feeling less and less apt to tolerate bullshit. Maybe less willing, maybe less capable. This has unfortunately coincided with a significant uptick in bullshit in the outside world, as we continue our transition to an overtly scam-based economy and our sensible centrist president continues to fund genocide overseas. There don't seem to be any good guys left. I find myself unable to shrug and say that it is what it is with quite the same nonchalance as before. Maybe it's a product of getting old.

Oldness may also contribute to the fact that I no longer seem to be interested in listening to new music. My track of the year is 4Lung's "Sarab&e", which is a cancelled furry rapping anemically over a Satie sample - you gotta really kick me in the shins to get my attention these days. On the other side I find myself listening to a lot of jazz on the radio. Did you know Orville Johnson (that's right, of https://orvillejohnson.com/ ) put out a dobro-led cover of Gravy Waltz? And it's pay what you want on Bandcamp? Maybe there are some good guys.

In sum I don't care what band that sounds like one band but also another band came out with their music album anymore. Boards of Canada already solved music and that's fine.

Comics are still good. Gray Folie's "Idletry" continues to be completely fascinating. There seems to be an endless supply of good artists on Tumblr just making stuff and putting it out there for me to look at. Thank you to all of them. Also I hear a new zine from my favorite might be dropping soon - stay tuned for more on that.

All I read is contemporary SF for the podcast and that's also fine. Most of it. Apparently the new thing is books about raising autistic children or being raised by autistic parents or both, and that certainly works for me. My favorite book of the year is not about that, though, and instead asks what if the founder of the Ming dynasty was actually an ace AFAB transmasc with ADHD. It manages to achieve grand tragedy with this concept, particularly if you ignore the ending. (Also you have to read the first book first or it won't make any sense.)

My goal for the new year is that I manage to get the energy together to find a therapist or change my meds up or whatever. Things are good but they could be better, might as well try. I would also kind of like to move back to the east coast but we'll see. Maybe get a cat.

[hretoprvdthepltnx]

Hi! Can I send in a request where the reader and yelena has a sibling like dynamic, and the reader comes out as aroace to her and they admit they’re sibling figures to each other, please?

Blood Oath

Yelena Belova x gn!reader

Summary: It's a "sibling" night for Yelena and y/n and they tend to get deep with one another when the moon is up, and the dark is out to blanket them from the grueling truth that is the outside world.

Content: reader is aroace, Yelena is asexual, found family dynamic, discussion about lack of sexual attraction, reader also confesses an insecurity about fear of being alone, hurt/comfort, coming out,

Rating: 16+ (for mature conversation themes) || 1.3k+ words

The room was lit by an eerie hue of white-blue light and the occasional bursts of pixilated color cast by the television screen. You weren't paying any attention to the movie. It was another generic action film from the 90's and the quality was crap. Instead, your eyes drifted to watch the flickering bulb of the lamppost out the window - a story down and across the street.

A man stood under it, wearing a raincoat with the hood pulled up. It hadn't rained for weeks. He pulled a small box from the inner breast pocket of his coat and removed a cigarette. He lit it with a small lighter he pulled from the pocket of his dark jeans. The end of it burned red-orange and the smoke cast a shadow in the purple hue of the lamp light which made it look like a lanky dancing ghost.

"It hasn't rained in a month." Yelena commented, lowering her chin on to your shoulder to follow your gaze and peer out the window from behind you. She had muted the explosive blasts emitting from the system - the effects too loud and the talking too quiet. The movie must have had a production budget of fifty bucks. "I know."

Another man immerged from the darkness, and you watched, silently with Yelena, as they exchanged greetings. The second man, the new character, linked his arm with the first and kissed him on the cheek. The first man handed him the cigarette and together they smoked beneath the purple light of the lamppost, hand in hand. Behind you, Yelena awed. "They're adorable! Do you think their dating?"

With a scrunched-up nose, you relaxed back into the sofa and into the soft pressure of Yelena's body. "Probably, but who cares." You had lost interest in the inappropriately dressed man and his chain-smoking partner, casting your eyes back to the soundless screen. You squinted. It was always just a little too bright when it was dark out, but you didn't bother learning how to adjust the settings.

"You're just jealous because he has a partner, and you don't." You felt yourself tense, but Yelena's laugh and playful shove was all obviously meant as a non-serious tease. Still, you found yourself wanting to tell her. Needing too. It had been kept a secret from your surrogate sister for too long already, and this felt like the perfect opportunity. "What... What if I don't want a partner? Like, what if I'd rather just be me? Just my own person."

"What do you mean?" Yelena asked, turning in her seat to sit facing you, legs crossed up under her. Suddenly the flashing from the television set felt like it was putting out two much heat. Your face burned and you bent over to grab the remote from the coffee table in front of the sofa, switching off the power. The room was encased in a sudden black - your eyes struggling to adjust with now only the outskirts of the lamppost shading to light the dark apartment from the outside in.

You blinked several times as if that would help and, still feeling hot, threw your side of the blanket back into Yelena's lap. "I just mean, like, what if all that romantic dating-marriage-and-kids thing isn't for me? What if I don't want that?" Yelena slid closer to you in the dark and stretched her arm around the back of the sofa behind you. She laid her cheek against her arm, the rounded tip of her nose nuzzling your grey-cotton covered shoulder. "Like... what if your aromantic?"

Your heart pounded violently in your chest, the tips of your ears tingling with quick setting panic. Fight of flight was kicking in. You took a breath, deep and shaky. "Yeah. Something like that. Something... yeah." Yelena nodded against your shoulder, her calm soothing you just a little. Was she cool with this? Were things about to get weird between you? "Are you asking or telling me."

"Telling, I think." You cringed at the choked way the words came out. Yelena reached for your hand in the dark and squeezed it. "Do you know I'm asexual?" You felt yourself freeze. No, you hadn't known that - but of course you hadn't, this was her way of telling you. Yelena noticed the rigidness of your posture and nudged you encouraging. "It's okay, my sibling, I know how you feel. Like an outsider, right? Like some kind of other?"

"How did you know you were asexual?" You turn to face her - too quickly and she pulls her face up to avoid being hit. Neither of you acknowledge it, though an apology shows on your night-shielded face. She can't see it, but she feels it there, heating the darkness. Yelena chuckles, an indulging sound that strikes you as something slightly relieved. "Conversation, I guess. Television. Commercials and things like that. I just kind of knew it's not something I cared about, but I didn't realize that made me different until I got away from the Red Room and got to experience life for myself. You know, like, normally?"

"But how do you know?" you pressed, fiddling with Yelena's ringless fingers in your lap. "Why?" Your gaze lifted to hers and then dropped again, she wasn't being defensive, only curious. Releasing her hand, you pulled your knees to your chest and hugged them. "Because I think I'm asexual too." Yelena sighed and reached out to touch your leg above your ankle. As always, there were a thousand words hidden in her touch. "So, how do you know?"

"I don't. I mean, I think I do...but I'm not sure."

"Okay, I can make this easy. Name a guy you think is hot and that you would want to fuck." The silence spoke volumes. You tried to think, you really did. Was there a guy? A celebrity or someone you had met on the street, maybe? People were nice looking, but so were the stars in the night sky and house plants. You didn't want to fuck any of it. Finally, you shook your head. "How about a girl? A nonbinary person?" Again, the answer was the same. "No, no I don't think so. But I don't know what that means."

"It means sex isn't something that appeals to you, right?" Her tone was gentle and the way she reached for you, sliding closer, made you feel safe and understood. You were able to relax a bit, but only a bit. Nodding, you answered her, head to clustered to properly respond. "And neither is romance? You don't want either of those things?"

"Does that make me a freak?" you blurted, then shame compelled you to attempt to play it off with an awkward grin. Yelena wasn't having it. "No, you're not a freak. Neither of us are. We just want different things out of life." She shrugged and leaned back at an angle against the couch, smiling at you. Her smile was contagious. "I still don't want to be alone though."

"Neither do I. But there's more to love than just romance and sex. Society has us brainwashed." It was true. There was no denying that. Your gaze drifted back to the window - the couple was gone. Yelena's arms wrapped around you in a hug, and you laid your head against hers. Your knees dropped and she scooted closer, her head on your collarbone as you shifted to get better adjusted. "We have each other," she promised "and we will find other siblings. Other friends who become like family. We don't have to be alone. We can be happy."

You smiled wide, surprised to feel a rivulet of tears making its way down your cheek - the others landing in Yelena's blonde hair. She didn't complain. Instead, she hugged you tighter. "I love you." You told her, playing off a sniffle with a cough. "I love you too, my sibling. More than anything." It was like a weight lifted and you could breathe, truly breathe, for the first time. You closed your eyes and hugged her tighter and, in the darkness of your apartment, she held you while you cried.

|| masterlist ||

story by hretoprvdthepltnx©

Yelena Belova copyrighted by Marvel©

[funkymbtifiction]

Hello. I found this post: https://funkymbtifiction.tumblr.com/post/172846700900/hi-i-just-saw-charitys-reply-to-the-person … I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind telling us how other fixes behave, especially as the trigger and bullet. Thank you so much ☺ Also, thank you for all the hard work you’ve made in this blog ❤ I think I can speak for everyone, that we’re going to miss you, but we wish you the biggest luck in life 🥰

Gosh, that was back when tumblr users actually hit the like button! ;)

I’ve had a long day and am tired, but will try. Your core is what everyone else sees in you, your trigger motivates your core, and your inferior nags you to be more something [depending on what it is] than you are.

Core (what everyone else says about you): that person is moralistic, rigid, preachy, a perfectionist (1); that person is intrusive but caring (2); that person is ambitious and driven (3); that person is elitist and emphasizes being different (4); that person is secretive, withdrawn, and thinks they alone know the answer (5); that person is reactive, polls me for advice, and over-thinks everything (6); that person doesn’t admit to their mistakes and re-frames everything positively (7); that person is belligerent, hard-headed, and wants to be the boss (8); that person is passive, passive-aggressive, or too accommodating (9).

Trigger (your instant reaction to the world; second fix): that is not as right or as good as it should be, and I know how everything should be (perfect) (1); I see how I can help/guide this person/be important to them and I intend to do it (2); this needs doing and I will be the one to do it, succeed, and accomplish my goals quickly (3); you don’t understand me and I don’t want to be fixed, you need to accept what I show you of myself, that I am uniquely me (4); I need to go away from this and think about it, study it, and reach my own firm conclusion before I answer it (5); I need to wait, back off, see what knowledgeable people said about it, and consider the right way to handle it to avoid trouble (6); this seems boring and I don’t want to do it, I need something more fun and interesting to look forward to instead (7); this is a situation that needs me to power through it, and either you can get on board or move aside (8); this doesn’t need me to pay attention to it right now, I’d rather think about something else that doesn’t discomfort me as much, it can wait until tomorrow (9).

Bullet (the thing nagging at the other two fixes; last fix): you should be better at this and less lax/more motivated (1); you should be more compassionate, giving, and selfless (2); you need to stay in constant motion and productivity (3); you need to point out when you are misunderstood, and draw attention to negative things more often (4); you ought to withdraw a bit and make sure you are really ready before you commit to anything (5); you should be careful that you never wind up alone and ask someone’s opinion you trust before you decide (6); you deserve all the good things coming to you! (7); you should go after what you want, not be lax about it, life is short (8); you should embrace more peace and be chill about things, nobody wants to be upset all the time (9).

[kimbapisnotsushi]

the day had started off normal enough.

kenma had wrapped up a company-wide conference, tweeted a livestream announcement for eight p.m. that night, finished his homework at the office, and signed off on another product to be released all within a span of three hours hours. with the rest of his schedule free, he could go home, kick back, and relax until it was time to play misfiction. maybe he could make some more progress on animal crossing? or finally crack open pokemon legends: arceus?

that second one sounded like a better idea, kenma decided. he wasn't ashamed to admit that he had a crush on adamant AND iridia.

once he was back in the house, he chucked off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. being CEO of your own company, thought kenma, was entirely useless if you couldn't even wear a hoodie and sweatpants to all the important meetings.

he threw his bedroom door open and froze.

kuroo was lying on the bed, shirtless, with a head propped up on one hand. it was probably supposed to be seductive, but kenma had no idea why.

after all, everyone knew how much he was mean to kuroo. it was his number one character trait!

"hi, kitten," kuroo purred. "miss me?"

"kuro," kenma said, exasperated. "what are you doing?"

kuroo's smile faded. "did you not like it? i thought maybe if i gave you a cute nickname, you'd want to get back together."

kenma stared at him. "what?"

"kitten, didn't you hear?" kuroo's eyes filled with tears. "we can't be in a relationship anymore. childhood-friends-to-lovers is incest now!"

kenma scoffed. "as if i'd ever want to be lovers with you. i have hinata instead. he's so much more interesting, but once i get tired of him then i'll just ditch him and get a new boytoy to mess around with."

the bedroom door suddenly burst open. it was . . . oikawa tooru!

"how dare you!" he screeched. "shouyou deserves so much more! he and i spent a very passionate night together in rio, you know! it's all people ever talk about when they they think of us in brazil! there's absolutely no other meaning to it than just us hooking up!"

"whatever," kenma said, rolling his eyes. "i don't care as long as he's making me money."

"now, now," sugawara crooned (where did he even come from? hell if i know). "let's not fight. that is my innocent angel sweet summer child you're talking about, after all, i'm basically his mom - "

("i'm twenty-two!" shouted hinata from where i stuffed him in the margins. "and you know my mother is very much alive, sugawara-san! also, i FUCK! I FUCK HARD!!")

" - so naturally i know what's best for him!" sugawara continued. "and what he would want is for everyone to hold hands and get along. agreed?"

daichi grinned and nuzzled sugawara's cheek. "you're so smart! i can't wait to start a happy, cisgender-conforming, nuclear family with you."

a voice called from the hallway: "HEY HEY HEY!"

the bedroom door flew open again! how in the world has it not been broken yet???

bokuto cartwheeled into the room and puffed out his chest. when he saw that nobody was paying attention to him because they were too busy hissing at each other, he pouted.

"guys, come on!" he complained. "no fighting! let's have some fun instead!"

"it's no use, bokuto-san," akaashi said. "stereotypically-feminine traits such as being petty, catty, and more have been greatly exaggerated in us setters because we have been deemed more feminine due to what i assume is a vast and complex myriad of factors stemming from microaggressions intersecting with fans' understandings of the world amongst other things, but i expect you are too dumb to understand any of that."

bokuto stared blankly at akaashi. "huh?"

akaashi heaved a deep sigh, plagued by the burden of being the only one with brains in the relationship. "never mind. i still love you, and that's all you need to know."

"okay!" bokuto said cheerfully.

suddenly the bedroom door flew open for the third time that day! who even keeps closing it?

"i'm looking for hinata," said kageyama, poking his head past the doorframe. "has anyone seen him?"

immediately, everyone froze. their eyes shifted from kageyama to oikawa, who had swelled up with incandescent rage because he still retained everything from when he was fourteen and hadn't gone through any growth whatsoever since then.

atsumu whistled. "aw, geez. we might argue a lot, but at least we're not anythin' like that, right, omi-omi?"

"shut up and don't call me that," sakusa muttered darkly. "i hate you. i hate everyone. i hate being here. when was the last time anyone vacuumed in here?"

"if you hate it so much," atsumu said, smirking, "we could sneak away and make out somewhere. could even . . . you know . . . "

"why."

atsumu shrugged. "i am an inexplicably horny sex-on-legs bastard, apparently. especially with you. i mean, have you seen our ao3 tag?"

sakusa frowned. "we've barely had any canon time together."

"eh, people have worked with less." atsumu grinned. "'sides, i dig the whole enemies-to-lovers thing. just means you couldn't resist my charms, huh?"

sakusa would have responded with an audible gag, but . . . you guessed it! the bedroom door flew open AGAIN! this is a bedroom door that defies the laws of physics itself!

yachi stepped in and glanced around.

"weird," she said. "why is this bedroom so big? what are all of you doing?"

yachi hitoka, everyone. our only saving grace. she carries the sole brain cell and wrangles the childish dumb men, because they can't ever think for themselves. right? right?????

tsukishima scowled as he followed after her, trailed by yamaguchi. "ugh. do we have to be here?"

"tsukishima!" yachi scolded, swatting his arm. "be nice! you know these are all our friends!"

sigh.

yamaguchi didn't even greet anyone. he just stayed behind tsukki the whole time, looking like a mouse cornered in a city of cats.

suddenly, a BAM! made everyone jump! you have got to be kidding me! the bedroom door agai - oh, never mind! someone just kicked open the closet door!

"SHITTYKAWA!" iwaizumi roared. "get over here!"

oikawa''s eyes widened. "iwa-chan! what are you doing here?"

"looking for you, dumbass," iwaizumi snapped. "you haven't been taking care of yourself! but i'd never say it, because i'm an asshole. i'm a rock wall. i'm a hardened tough guy. i'm mean. i don't ever say or do anything nice. i throw volleyballs at your head for fun. i don't care about you at all. got it?"

("so you're saying he literally just came out of the closet for oikawa - " hinata began, before i shoved him back down into the margins.)

"no wonder i'm such an asshole," kindaichi marveled. "i guess i learned it all from iwaizumi-san! wow, he's a great role model."

being a stressed fourteen-year-old who didn't know how to handle another stressed fourteen-year-old that was causing said stress and eventually snapping from it and making a mistake, as people are prone to do, didn't really make you an asshole for the rest of your life, but hey. kindaichi didn't have to know any of that.

"it's getting kind of crowded in here, don't you think?" yachi asked, ever the voice of reason. "maybe we should get out and get some fresh air?"

ushijima nodded solemnly. wait - had he always been there?

"fresh air is good for the soul," he said. "not that i would know, because i'm an unfeeling robot who is strong and dominant and the epitome of masculinity. being stoic and silent are the only things i know. you should all bow down before my superior strength."

everyone stared at him.

suddenly, the bedroom door burst open AGAIN! this shouldn't be possible! it was already open in the first place! I KEPT IT OPEN! HOW DO THEY KEEP DOING THIS?

"guys!" hinata ran in, panting. "i finally did it! i escaped the margins!"

"the what?" sugawara asked.

hinata waved him off. "never mind that. it's about time to wrap up. we've put on a good show, but we should end it, don't you think?"

"hinata's right," kenma admitted. "i didn't think i could do this much longer, anyways."

oikawa made a face. "me neither. sorry, tobio. i hope you didn't take anything to heart."

"i'm okay," kageyama said. "i know better, now. we both know better."

"that we do," oikawa agreed warmly. "and weren't you looking for hinata? that's why you were here, right? you were the only one of us not part of an act."

kageyama blinked, as if he had forgotten all about that. not that anyone could blame him - i'm not even sure what the hell just happened.

"right," he said, then grabbed hinata's arm and tugged him close. "hey. i love you."

"what!" hinata squawked. "kageyama, what - "

kageyama shrugged, but red began to bloom across his cheeks. "i'd never joke about that. i just wanted you to know."

hinata beamed at him, brighter than the sun. "aw, kageyama! i love you too! but can we please wrap this up? there's no food in the margins, and i'm starving!"

"okay, everyone!" bokuto called out. "on the count of three! ready? one, two, three - "

"HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S DAY!" everyone shouted.

the end :)

[soot-slvt]

What if…. Just reader and will on a soft… like…. At home date thing….

(Literally I'm shrieking this is so cute- asskkfkamsmjkk I JUST WANNA BE HELD BY HIM SO BAD-)

CW: None, save for some cuddling and light angst if you squint. This was not beta read-

“Moonlight || Wilbur × Reader”

The ever familiar crisp scent of one of those shitty candles ordered from Amazon, much like everything else in this flat.

A night in- it's jarring how frequent nights like these are; that mostly stemmed from Wilbur's social anxiety and innate dislike for getting recognized in public… I'm lying, he didn't really dislike it; it just frequently reminded him that, as a content creator, he didn't truly have a private life. He preferred to keep his life as private as it could be. The lingering smell of burnt pasta still lingered over the signature, cheap scent of Seabreeze... A product of him attempting to cook for you, which ended in dumb smiles and banter that had his cheeks growing hot.

At some point in the night, he'd gone quieter than usual, a lingering afterthought about how he should be taking you out, spoiling you- instead of always staying in, opting for movie nights with slightly charred popcorn.

“I'm sorry we don't get out much…” Wilbur's tone was light and apologetic, rumbling your cranium where you rested your head against his bony chest. Despite him being a bag of bones, he was always warm; like a furnace.

“Nah, it's fine” You murmured in response, drawing circles in the beige knit of his sweater- looking up at him through eyelashes. God, he was so effortlessly pretty- the artificial light of his Amazon standing lamp did him fucking wonders. Pale cheeks highlighted in dim hues, it was hard to miss the faint blush dusting his soft face. The way his mess of curls fell over his forehead.

Sometimes he still looked like he was twenty-two, despite him being almost thirty.

It really took him a moment to process that you were fine with staying in, having a cozy date- He almost forgot your somewhat anxious tendencies. God, he felt so selfish for it.

“Oh…” He opted for that comfortable silence to settle between you both. His fingertips idly drew circles across your shoulder blade. He was thinking. “Well… um…” His russet eyes almost searched the room for something to say, anything.

“Take your time.” You teased him. Wilbur's face turned a few shades redder than before, his fingertips prodded the divot in your waist, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

“Oh hush-!” He found himself scolding. He was never good with his words in real, genuine situations. Hence why he was so hesitant in commitments. “I just thought you'd be more interested in lavish restaurants or strolls on the beach…”

“Those things are nice…” You mumbled, pressing your face into the scratchy fabric- why did his favorite sweater have to be so pokey on the outside?

“...But just being close to you is nicer.” Your voice was muffled by his beige jumper.

The room was darker, an indication that his tv had gone into sleep mode from lack of use; which made sense, you were too busy paying attention to each other. His fingertips tapped the ghost of a guitar melody against your spine, even in leisure he's still working. Strange how his brain works, sometimes you'd just wish you could really get a good look at what goes on up there.

He had a brilliant mind.

The thought caused a stupid smile to stretch across your face- hiding it once again in that sweater. This had him stiffening up like a board, his languid motions ceased as he kept his soft gaze on your frame- his voice was even softer.

“Now what are you grinning about?” He murmured, always soft- always gentle. You answered, no matter how tacky it was, a simple response-

“How glad I am that I have someone like you.”

My first fic on here- and ugh it's- IT'S SOMETHING. (Bare with me. I'm so rusty ugh)

[maaarshieee]

⎯⎯ ୨ Age Like Fine Wine 2 ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Diluc Ragnvindr x Male!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.9k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | Part 1 *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

this fic may not have popped off as my other posts did but people miss once in a while and i respect that fact. either way i had so much fun writing this !! diluc is such a fun character to write and i wanna do more <33 have a great day/night!! sorry it took a while btw :( ALSO it kinda sucked in the end bc i had a headache mid point :(

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: reader is a hyrdo user, gay struggles LOL, plot heavy cuz i wanted to write smth long, references of killing, drinking reader an archer

And Diluc Ragnvindr fell harder,

Diluc's first impression of you was similar to other knights; an aspiring captain that would only do so little to uphold his title or position in the Knights of Favonious. Rookie knights were usually naive and full of misplaced ambition, too focused on a goal when protecting the citizens of Mondstadt is your priority. He's not one to listen in for the gossip of his customers, but sometimes, as a bartender, he couldn't help but hear when they were speaking right in front of him. "He's always so helpful! Truly a kind soul, I'm glad he's a knight." Whenever he hears your name, it's always followed by praise. Naturally, he got curious. Can a rookie knight be that good to deserve so much praise?

From afar, he observed you begrudgingly, and often saw you with his brother, Kaeya. Diluc was torn between his opinion for you; one side of him was glad Kaeya found someone he could be comfortable with, to share laughs and smiles with all the while reminding your captain to fulfill his duties, and the other side was a tad perturbed of you, for being a knight and letting yourself get influenced with Kaeya's antics. Though he could see you truly are a good-natured man, helping elders whenever you could, and playing with children on the streets if you had the time to do so.

You were one of the most productive knights he's ever seen in a while, alongside Lisa and Jean, so you've earned a tiny bit of his respect. And he should've left it at that, never really paying you any more attention since he's gotten all the information he wanted of you, leaving you be and only hearing of your name amongst the whispers of the wind. But even after his investigation, he's always felt compelled to listen to the gossip of you whenever he's behind the counter of Angel's Share. Although, he wasn't a fan when you've also befriended the drunk of a bard that's a regular of his tavern, drinking away without a care.

And while yes, for a short period of time, Diluc felt drawn to you somehow. To at least hear you say your own name once you greet each other for the first time, perhaps to quell this burning curiosity of his on how often people say that your voice was soothing as the gentle crashes of water against stone, a tone that always makes their eyelids grow heavy. But he lost interest soon enough, deciding that you were just an impressive knight amongst knights, though a little disappointed that you've joined them.

Fate had other plans, it seems, for your first-ever encounter finally occurred, however, he would've preferred if it was in Dawn Winery instead, and not in the cold, empty alleyways of Mondstadt. Diluc took note that there was less... Activity for the past few weeks, and it wasn't because of him. He was gone for a few days for business-related meetings and such, so he expected more work for him at night, but he was wrong. The streets felt like they were swept clean, with not a single living soul in the area at night. Mondstadt couldn't simply be cleansed like that, and he was right. He found you again, hiding across the street where he had recently beat off some Fatui. You were shocked, to say the least, and the way you had mentioned him being the Darknight Hero embarrassed him.

For a rookie knight, you knew how to set your priorities straight, patrolling in routes knights don't usually go to, actively seeking troublemakers or any creatures that crept inside the gates of Mondstadt. His respect for you only grew, surprising even himself when he gave you an ounce of acknowledgment, something he doesn't normally speak of to others. And so your nightly endeavors together has begun, and for some odd reason, Diluc hadn't minded.

Similar to the rumors he's heard of you at Angel's Share, you were quite talkative. At first, he had told you to keep quiet and focus on the task at hand, to which you would oblige, however only for a few long minutes. He didn't understand why you wanted to talk to him so much, and he didn't have much to say either, but he gradually learnt that you'd be satisfied even with short, quick answers. You didn't annoy him though, in fact, your voice was very alluring; calming, and Diluc finds himself relaxing his muscles a tad. You were also quite the archer, with precise aim and graceful movements. You watched his back even if he hadn't needed it, and it led to him taking enemies down quickly around Mondstadt with fewer injuries. It was a nice change of pace, Diluc thought. To have someone support him in his blind spots, and he makes sure to return the favor by making sure no enemy gets too close to you, luring them closer to your range.

Then, you frequented Angel's Share, especially when he was behind the counter serving customers. You'd always take a seat close to him and start talking, just as you do when you're on your nightly routines. Surely just because you've become partners of the night doesn't mean you're friends now, right? So, oftentimes, he'd tune you out and you'd earn pitying looks from everyone witnessing your attempts to befriend the stone-hearted man. Though, it never really stopped you, greeting him all the time with a lovely smile you always wore, like it was sculpted perfectly with your handsome features, eyes always so bright and full of life, even when you talk to a dull guy like him.

And he slowly, slowly, got used to your presence, and it always felt as if he was at the shore of the beach when he was with you. And when you're not close by, he finds himself yearning for you, to hear your flow of never-ending words, to see your blinding smile— just you sitting across the counter as he pours you a drink. It was as if there was a force binding him close to you, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away, to think nothing of your existence, he couldn't. There was only a risky solution to this problem; to indulge himself in whatever he was experiencing in hopes it would eventually fade away into nothing.

When he first gave you a long reply to a question you asked, descriptive and clearly attentive to every word you've said, you were understandably surprised (as well as the other people in Angel's Share who are conveniently listening to your 'conversation'). It took a few moments for you to speak again, staring at your glass of alcohol as if you were just having a drunken hallucination. Of course, Diluc had mistaken your reddening cheeks as a sign of getting drunk, so he told you to go ahead and take a rest for the night, completely unaware of how your enthusiastic face immediately fell. You got along well, in Diluc's opinion. Your topics were always bright and easy, making sure he catches on if there was something he doesn't know and never makes fun of anything he says, considerate of his opinions. You'd always tilt your head slightly to the side to listen to him, a small smile on your lips with your cheek laid on your fist. Some would say you're literally looking at him with hearts in your eyes. Diluc disagrees, only seeing it as a friendly trait of yours to listen well to what others have to say (though he doesn't understand why his heart would clench whenever he thought about this).

It took a while for Diluc to understand how he felt toward you. He thought that it was normal to feel so attached to a person, especially when you're very friendly to everyone, including him. Though, he grew confused when he had invited you for dinner at his mansion, to have a bit of a much more private chat, away from the peering eyes and ears of his regulars in his tavern. You were extremely polite to everyone you see, greeting his maids and asking if you could be of any assistance even if you were a guest. When Diluc pointed this out, you just let out an embarrassed laugh, saying that you were just used to asking that question by default, sticking by his side as he led you to the dining area.

Diluc had never had this much fun simply having dinner with a friend in ages. He didn't have much to share about himself, preferring his life to be a sealed tight book, but you were quite loquacious about yours, spilling stories of your past and of your experiences as a new knight. Normally, Diluc wouldn't be interested in anyone's stories, but he figured that when it comes to you? He could listen to you talk about anything and he wouldn't mind at all, taking bites of his meal while you tell him a rather embarrassing story of Kaeya that you had promised never to tell anyone. He even had a small smile gracing his lips, expression softening when you kept talking. He enjoyed the way your face would light up at each bite of your food, spouting praises to Adeline, who was the one who prepared your dinner. Though he didn't understand why his maids all started giggling when he wiped off the crumbs on your cheek with his thumb.

It was Adeline who made him realize that he was in love with you. He had asked her a plethora of questions; why does he always want to be with you? Why does he always feel so relaxed and comfortable when you're around? Why does your voice soothe him so much? Why does his heart start beating fast whenever you get too close to him? Adeline had never heard her Master Diluc speak so much in a short span of time, especially regarding someone and himself. So she could only come to one conclusion, hands clasped together with a big grin on her face. "Why, you're in love!" And Diluc was prepared to deny such assumptions, but he mulled over that thought a bit more, before ultimately agreeing in defeat. Yes, perhaps it was truely love. As a young boy, his father had told him about finding the one he loved when he was old enough, though he never could've imagined he'd find love anymore after his death. It honestly freaked him out upon this revelation. Thankfully, his maids were there to give him their full support between the two of you, as well as reassure their master. Though the doubt he feels whenever they encourage him to pursue you didn't leave, not one bit.

Not when you're so close to his brother. Diluc had deduced that you could never return his love for you, for you love another; Kaeya. It makes his heart ache whenever he sees the two of you together, though it made sense, for he could absolutely give you more than he could ever do. He was charming and a friendly person once you've gotten to know him, similar to you. And he was sure that others would agree to your spectacular pairing. It was as if you were meant for each other. Diluc couldn't even make you laugh like Kaeya does. It was the sole reason why he had approached your table that night when he heard Venti and the other regulars encouraging you to confess to a particular someone. Although he didn't know who it was, Diluc could only guess it was Kaeya. Who would it be if it wasn't him? And when your whole table burst out laughing, Diluc was at a loss for words, now unsure of himself.

"It's... not Kaeya..." You sighed with a shake of your head, solemnly taking a sip of your drink while Venti patted your back reassuringly. "It isn't...?" Diluc had never felt his face burn so hot, nodding and swiftly walking back behind the counter, embarrassed. After that night, the air between you has been a mite awkward, mostly because you seemed upset about something— hopefully not at him for jumping to conclusions— and he would be too nervous about speaking up first, just waiting for you to take the lead. Either way, Diluc was grateful you kept up with your consistent visits even if you were agitated over something he was unaware of.

However, one night, his brother unexpectedly helped him open his eyes to the apparent truth.

There were times when Diluc would patrol the streets of Mondstadt all by himself, which he was fine with. He didn't think you were a slacker, for you'd always excuse yourself for the nights you'd miss with him. He just didn't expect to see you walking back home with Kaeya. It seems like you've drunk a bit too much, not being able to walk straight without Kaeya's help, slurring words altogether in his ear. Diluc hadn't meant it, but he followed the two of you, eavesdropping. "That damn brother of yours..." He heard you grumble under your breath and Diluc felt himself tense, frowning. Kaeya only chuckled, having no trouble whatsoever carrying your weight. "Yes yes, what about him?"

"How... can he be so... fuckin' oblivious..." You groaned, burying your face in the fluff of his coat. Kaeya nodded his head in agreement, "I'm honestly surprised myself, I thought that you hitting on him shamelessly would send signals but I don't know how it flew over his head." His comment only made you feel even more miserable, almost tripping over nothing. Diluc wasn't safe either, almost stumbling over a pile of crates at what Kaeya said. You? Hitting on him? Wait— when? Diluc had no idea—

"Seriously... who tells someone they're so pretty and shit all the damn time...?"

...Oh.

"You are so determined too! Other ladies who tried to get his attention always get disheartened and lose interest once he turns them down."

"I always go to his tavern whenever I can..."

"You talk to him, and I don't care if that's the bare minimum. I'm genuinely impressed you've even made him say a simple yes or no the first few days you've talked."

"Surely he... must've noticed how smitten I am..."

He accidentally lit a crate on fire.

"Oh honey, I doubt it."

You held onto Kaeya tighter, complaining to him about Diluc, a look of exasperation gracing your pretty features, before ultimately passing out in his hold, too drunk to go on. Kaeya stopped in his tracks, a small amused smirk on his lips as he turned his head to the side, staring into the darkness. "Dear me, it seems like I've got errands to do." He says to the shadows. Diluc could only cross his arms with a sigh, stepping out where he hid, eyes narrowed at Kaeya. "Oh! Diluc! I didn't know you were there! Can you be a dear and take him home for me?" Kaeya smiled innocently, already passing your unconscious body into his arms without waiting for his reply, including your house keys.

"Hold on, I don't—" Diluc tried to refute, but he carefully laced his arm under your legs, picking you up with both his arms, glaring at Kaeya, only to be cut off.

"Oh, yes you do! You've walked him home before!" Diluc raised his brow slightly, surprised he even knew of that. "He tells me everything, don't get jealous now~" And with that, Kaeya walked away, leaving Diluc a flustered and agitated mess, while you nuzzled close to his chest, sleeping away. Nevertheless, he carried you all the way to your house, unlocking it with the keys Kaeya entrusted to him, and laid you gently on your bed. He felt his hands shake when he shed a layer of your clothing to try and help you breathe a little easier, then tucked you in nicely.

Diluc wanted to leave as quickly as possible, no matter how much he wanted to admire you for a bit longer, or to slip into your bed right next to you and possibly hold you throughout the night, but he shouldn't. Especially from what he heard a while ago. He still hasn't been able to process the truth he'd found out. Just being in your mere presence makes him so embarrassed and ashamed he hasn't been able to properly recognize your rather obvious affection for him, but once he turned his back on you, he felt a tug on his wrist, pulling him towards you and he fell. Arms on both sides of your head, propping himself up to prevent him from crushing you, jaw slacked when he felt your warm hands cup his face, drawing him close to you until he could feel your hot breath against his lips, brushing lightly against each other.

He almost jerked away from you and he was sure that his cheeks were as red as his hair. Diluc was so stiff above you, and it seemed like you caught wind of it even when you were drunk, so you pulled away, blinking your eyes sleepily. "Mmm... Wish I could kiss you right now..." You mutter, rubbing circles with your thumb on his cheeks, before nodding off back to sleep.

Easy to say that it has been quite awkward for the next few days, with you worriedly asking if he's okay, and him, shying away every time you get close, face completely red.

It doesn't help that Kaeya's been visiting more with a knowing smirk directed at him.

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[jehilew]

I’m chipping away at a one shot for the fake dating prompt, but true to fashion, I procrastinated (or rather, my muse did), and I’ve only just started. I might not finish it by today, but I’ll give y’all the intro. This is still in word-splat stage, I unfortunately have a lot of shit to do today, so it’s not edited. As soon as I finish, I’ll polish it up, so this will likely look fairly different as an end product. But I hope you enjoy the set-up nonetheless!

The show has gone exactly as expected.

What hadn’t gone exactly as expected was the character couple hitting true star status.

The X-Men has a fabulously talented and well established cast, and theirs were characters never slated for stardom. They’d only ever meant to be supporting drama, perhaps a fling one season, and moved on by the next.

According to some articles, that’s not the case at all.

“Rogue and Gambit, played by the unreasonably beautiful and talented pair, Anna D’ Ancanto and Remy LeBeau, are the next season’s must-watch couple, coming to the forefront next— oh my lord,” Anna huffs out a soft laugh, dropping her phone unceremoniously on the table. The headline of the article she’d just read still blares off the screen, piquing the interest of her lunch companions.

“Forefront, huh?” The decidedly handsome man across from her snorts through a lopsided grin. Remy reaches for her phone and scans the article, brows scrabbling up his forehead. “Talk about making a mountain out of a molehill,” he chortles, “they’re going on about that picnic ‘date’ like it was actually anything remarkable.”

“Pfft, what was remarkable about it was that god-awful outfit I had to wear. That top itched.” Anna wrinkles her nose in memory.

“We all could tell,” Isabel laughs, brushing her blonde pixie curls out of her eyes. “You were scratching along the hem of your titties so much, you had that red spot everyone insisted was a hickie.”

“I’m never living that one down,” Anna states in long sufffering tones, very vividly recalling how fans of The X-Men had gone positively feral over that stupid rash. Speculations had somehow deduced that she and Remy were dating, and he’d given her the hickie. Rumors had flown through all possibilities of when and where, finally (through much triangulation involving photos before and after the scene shoot) settling firmly that they’d hankie-pankied off somewhere on set, and she’d gotten it then.

“Nope. I’ll never allow it,” Isabel declares around a French fry, “because then they’ll come after me again.”

“You just have a way with fans, huh?” Remy teases, “they just love to hate you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Izzy snits back, “they love me. They just can’t pair us off ‘cause we’re cousins, and so they have to hate me.”

“They figured out we were cousins because they hated you,” he chortles back, referring to yet another rabid fan shenanigans resulting in it being figured out that Gambit and BellaDonna cannot be together (or shipped), and therefore not in the way of their precious Romy, as they’re called, because ones Remy LeBeau and Izzy McLean are, in fact, cousins.

Cousins so very far removed, genetics and society wouldn’t give even half a damn, and so very far removed, neither of them had even been aware of the fact or even of each other’s existence prior to joining the show, but cousins nonetheless.

Fans, Anna has come to understand, are goddamn bats.

“Hey, but listen,” Izzy leans forward, “what if y’all did date?”

In unison, Anna and Remy throw her quelling looks.

She shrugs in immediate defeat. “It was a thought, is all. You’re both gorgeous and single,” she stresses at Remy, “it’d be absolutely phenomenal press.”

“Yeah, he’s freshly single,” Anna argues, “and a lot of that circles around the rumors. I doubt he’d want that attention. I know I don’t,” she firmly adds, glancing across at the man of conversation.

Remy refrains from comment, instead pushing up his glasses and paying an awful lot of attention to his food.

She feels a little sorry for the guy. The divorce had been nasty, and the fans had been brutal. Thus far, he’s been tight-lipped about it, carrying on with his usual content, nerdy self. She knows it’s hit him hard though. He and wife had been happy once, and they’d been ridiculously cute together.

Alas, Hollywood is a rough on marriages, and had eaten theirs for snack.

She lets the crickets chirp in the awkward moment, having nothing to add to it, and focuses on her food, too.

Not a chance on this side of hell will she allow the business to eat her alive next. She’s got a little too much skin in the game, and not just her own.