#sweet-holic

[royalsealy]

To 🫧 or not to 🫧...

Decided to finish the year off with a lovely bathroom coord! I call this one "charcoal scrub"!

Happy new year!

[floorpancakes]

no context catverse content but in case anyone was wondering i have like. several xxxholic ocs and i love them dearly

[radioscientist]

Nice little ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment from the Monkey’s Paw episode where Doumeki notices Watanuki’s reaction to the paw and deliberately steps in front of him even though he can’t see the cursed smoke

[zonamievents]

Hi Maiden! I hope you have been well! Yeah I am at day with the manga, the animation not so much, i love One Piece! But the anime it's a little bit slow since the episodes are so extended, still they made an incredible job in the animation. The manga it's getting pretty interesting, feel we really did reach the climax of the story but I feel Zoro i'ts getting a little bit abandoned, I hope something big happens with him soon, also the interactions with the crew are less since they jump from action to action but Nami yelling Sanji to go help Zoro (kinda) lifts my heart 💖

Hi there! I’ve been surviving lol, but I’m feeling recharged lately and wanted to share some love to my ZoNa nakama. Hope you’re doing well!

I am also more of a manga-reader and I have been absolutely loving what’s been happening lately in the current arc! Sooo much lore is being shown and giving us some answers along with many more questions. After watching RED too, I’m just completely renewed in my love for One Piece. ❤️

I think Zoro is always the independent character on his downtime, or rather, the one-track minded one where he sleeps, eats, drinks and trains so I am fine with where he is at right now, personally. As in, this latest chapter. However, I do think the overflowing cast of characters that were in Wano specifically did cause him to appear like he was less involved story-wise after a certain point, so I think I feel what you’re putting down. I agree that I’d like to see him learn some lore for once even if he doesn’t understand all the mumbo jumbo, like he did in Zou! (Or maybe get paired with Nami for a leg of the journey sometime soon 👀) ~ Maiden

[official-linguistics-post]

dear linguistics person

is there a name for like. incorrect suffixes? that were cut off incorrectly from the original word? i can only think of two examples (-holic from alcoholic and -copter from helicopter) but there must be more. please tell me there's some sweet sweet hyperspecific linguistics term for that and maybe some more examples!!!

REBRACKETING!!! like hamburg+er > ham+burger.

one of my fave rebrackets is "nickname": originally an eke-name "an other-name," it got reanalyzed to tack the -n from the indefinite article onto the front of eke, and because of THAT we now get folk etymologies like the idea that it refers specifically to nicholas>nick

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 8

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo 

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers, Giggles, Alcohol Consumption, Some Angst

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

There was something so weirdly liberating about showering naked. I know, I know, that’s how people do it, but listen, taking a shower, a genuine one, a real one with plenty of soap and shampoo and a razor and some gentle exfoliating and then with nicely scented lotion spread all over your skin -- all without the worry of someone walking in on you? You felt kind of as if you had died and gone to heaven. This heaven had warm water and it cascaded down your spine and washed away nearly every bit of tension you had felt in your body only moments before. Nearly.

It wasn’t as if the possibility of him walking in here and witnessing you in the shower was entirely gone, but you knew he wouldn’t. You knew, deep down inside where you knew all of the facts about all of the things you knew, you knew that he absolutely would not dare. He had made some silly rule with himself about not having sex without being in a committed relationship and unless he was about to walk into this bathroom and have his way with you, which he wasn’t, then you knew you were unequivocally, entirely, completely alone in here to do whatever it was you needed to do. 

And you had to, that man had gotten you so worked up you couldn’t even lather your skin up without feeling the need for some sort of a release -- you felt the need deep down inside of your abdomen, deep inside of your veins, deep inside of your bones. You couldn’t even remember a time when another human being had left you in such a state. 

The release you sought came to you too quickly. You longed for the clarity of mind that would follow but even after, even actual minutes after, you could still feel that unimaginable longing whenever you remembered the way he kissed you. 

Again and again, his face slipped into your mind. His lips, his tongue, his teeth, and the things he did to you with them. His chin resting just over your belly button, his nose that nuzzled into you, the long and deep inhales he took of you, the hot breaths that flooded, and his eyes, his fucking eyes, his eyes that looked at you but felt like they did so much more than just look; his eyes that took the air straight from your lungs, his eyes that inundated and flooded, destroyed and rebirthed. You felt absolutely insane. He hadn’t even fucked you and you felt absolutely insane. 

The reflection of yourself in the aged, clouded-over mirror had you looking positively glowing. You looked radiant all clean and smooth and naked and the flush you saw in your skin, particularly the natural rose color in your face had you giggling like a mad-woman all by your lonesome. 

He would be cooking dinner for you. Would he be starting it already? You absentmindedly wondered about the timing of it all. You had no idea what he would be making; you weren’t even sure if you’d really be able to taste anything as distracted as your mind felt. But you were going to eat it all because he was making it for you.

Him. He. That soft and kind, sort of, that charming and funny, kind of, the gentle and not at all supercritical or hypersensitive, the itty bitty tiny bit of a rat, even less of a bastard, your sweetest, most infuriatingly competitive, probably a work-a-holic, very likely sarcastic to a fault, the conservative and traditional man who -- maybe, hopefully, God you were praying right now, a man who believed in equality for both sexes and even maybe, Dear Baby Jesus please let him also believe in a woman’s right to make decisions for her own body -- Oh God you had to stop --

Him. Kyungsoo. Doh Kyungsoo -- your Darling? Ehh. Your Pookie maybe? Your sweet baboo? Little cinnamon roll baby wrapped up tight in mama’s swaddling cloth, Jesus Christ. Maybe not that far. Maybe it wasn’t an orgasm that you needed but a tranquilizer. 

Your…something. Yours? Well, he was something. You knew that for a fact, at least. 

That man was certainly something. The jury was still out on literally all of the rest of it.

So you were clean and you felt pretty. You had slipped on the plainest underwear and bra you happened to bring along with you. It wasn’t as if that man would be seeing any of it, and you weren’t doing it in the way that one would wash their car knowing it would increase the chances of rain that day. You were certain in the way he had resisted the sex with you in the most ironclad of ways, despite his body being ready, despite your body being ready and willing, this man was not going to see your underwear. You were also not going to pressure him into anything either. You put on the comfy set. They were for you only. 

Your dinner wear was another story. This was your first real date with Kyungsoo. You should look the part.

You’d packed two evening dresses for this trip and your favorite was a sexy little cocktail dress that fit you like a glove. It had the perfect neckline that complimented your rack. It had a silhouette that made you look at least five times hotter than you thought you actually might be and it had, above all else, a skirt that was too difficult to accidentally push up any higher than mid-thigh. No, no. This was the kind of dress that required complete removal for sexy times. If you were removing it alone, or putting it on as you were right now, it required near-contortionist-level skills to get the zipper up all the way, and taking it off required equal effort. There would be plenty of grunting, some embarrassing moans, and lots of huffing and puffing. All sounds that did not invite sex, well, not unless they were happening during, which they would not be. There would be no accidental oops my dress slipped up too high, oops this counter top is just perfect for my thighs to part and for your hips to slip, and oops there’s a penis inside of me. No. None of those shenanigans would happen in this dress. This dress would be your chastity belt. You would not let him down. Also, it was red. 

Your two-hour respite back to the bunks to shower and lie down turned into a shower, shave, moisturize, fragrance, then dress, coif, preen, pluck, and make-up session, and after settling on a soft and delicate make-up look as opposed to, say, a sexy, fierce look, mostly because you were running out of time and also you figured it was probably best to keep yourself far away from the dominatrix end of the spectrum for the sake of everyone involved. You did not once lie down, as you had so promised you would. You felt entirely too wound up for any sort of lengthy pauses that might lead to lengthy daydreams. 

You were out the door nearly exactly 2 hours from the moment you had stepped inside and you found yourself creeping as silently as the heels allowed down the dark hallway toward that blue door, placing a now, nervous and somewhat trembling hand on the doorknob lightly as you suddenly contemplated every single choice you had made back in front of that bathroom mirror. 

What if you were overdressed? You knew you’d be overdressed, this was a cocktail dress without a cocktail party in sight. This was a cobweb-covered, dusty, and dank emergency storm shelter at least 200 years past its heyday. You’d already done the makeup though. You'd already done the hair and you’d even spritzed the faintest of spritzes of your favorite scent in tiny, inoffensive spots like your inner wrists, directly behind your earlobes without overpowering your neck too much, and the tiniest dab between your breasts. 

What if you were too early? What if his 2-hour time frame wasn’t an exact science? Would you wander in there and interrupt his cooking too soon, fluster him, and make him drop a saute pan or burn a flatbread? Would your arrival at the 2-hour mark down to the second freak him out somehow?

Did men find extreme punctuality in a woman attractive or off putting? You wished you had your phone on you for a quick reddit search. 

You removed your hand from the door knob and you crossed your hands behind your back, taking a step backward and rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. You should give it a few minutes. You were counting inside of your head now, doing little head nods as you counted. Five minutes should be plenty. You didn’t want to seem too eager. Maybe you should give it ten. Ten minutes could be the new 15-minute buffer most people factored into their daily schedules when figuring out what time to leave for an appointment in the morning. 

You’d lost count of the seconds after a few rounds of 60 and you had to start all over around the four-minute mark. 

At maybe eight minutes you put your hand on the doorknob again, just holding onto it lightly and counting inside your head like a weirdo, and forty seconds into the ninth minute you heard a shuffling sound on the other side of the door a second before you felt that doorknob turning in your hand. 

You gasped out loud in surprise as the door swung open and nearly hit you and there was a similar gasping sound that came from the other side of the door as someone quickly stopped its forward motion with a hand gripped tightly around the edge of the solid metal door. 

His head peaked around the side and you quickly closed up your gaping mouth, doing your best to hide the surprised look in your eyes.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo said, “here you are.” 

You pulled your lips into a smile that probably looked too tense and it took only a few moments for your gaze to wander a bit over him. He had changed. He had done his hair in some sort of inhumanely attractive upward and back hairstyle with some light product and he was wearing a pretty navy blue color that complemented his skin. The shorts and plain t-shirt were gone and he was wearing jeans and Converse on his feet that looked so effortlessly cool with the outfit you were certain he’d walked out of one of your dreams featuring the sexy boy next door who had stolen your heart. 

“I was going to come and look for you,” he said softly and you widened your eyes some, waving them around the space in front of you that you occupied with a change of the smile on your face. His focus was on your face at first and you knew you had to respond to him. 

“You found me,” you said with just a little bit more embarrassment than you would have liked. You had to pull your lips in between your teeth to conceal the nervous perma-smile and you caught the light drift of his eyes as he noticed the effort you’d put into your look tonight.  

You got a straightening of his shoulders and a hardly concealed throat clearing. He was blinking, swallowing, and his face lifted, not quite pulling his eyes all the way away from you in this dress. 

“W-Wow, uhh--,” he bit down on the inside of his lip as he stepped aside at last to allow you enough room to enter this kitchen without brushing up against the length of his body as you did it. “S-Sorry, I only packed jeans. You look,” He was nodding once, then twice and you felt suddenly too nervous for this talk, “beautiful,” he whispered at last, finishing his compliment so you could finally nod your head, so you could finally let out the smile you’d been fighting the whole time, so you could open your own lips to speak. 

You used your hands, lightly waving them over the length of him without touching him anywhere, of course.

“I like the jeans. And the hair. And the shirt. And the shoes. You’ve got a real ‘college heartthrob that all the girls are not-so-secretly in love with,’ you know, ‘rolled-up notes slipped into your locker from many secret admirers,’ and, ‘nasty fights in the girl’s bathroom because they all want you but your true love is music,’ kind of thing going on,” you said with a lift of an eyebrow and a playfulness in your voice that happened sometimes when you were really flustered and trying to fill in any potential silence with ridiculous nervous chatter. 

Of course, saying way too much as usual; you could not help the word vomit. You were too nervous and not really able to fully look at him despite the vivid imaginary story you’d just attached to the outfit he was wearing. Instead, you wandered through the space, busying yourself with looking around the kitchen that it seemed he had cleared out some. The mattresses were all gone. There went yet another surface for the sex that would not happen. 

The lights were different, some of the switches on the wall were off and you saw that he’d set up about as good a table setting as he could with the limited supplies in this place. There was a tablecloth, which you thought might be a flat sheet from one of the bunk beds, there were two place settings with wine glasses and cutlery and you could even hear the faint notes of some classical music playing from somewhere in the kitchen. 

He had been silently following you through the journey and when you’d finally worked up any real nerve and risked a look over at him, he was leaning ever so slightly against the countertop with both of his hands laid flat on its surface. His eyes were closed up and he wore on his face the smallest, nearly imperceivable smile that, had you not had the last 48 hours or so’s worth of direct observation of this man’s face, you might have missed. When he lifted his head, there was an inhale and he brought his focus up and around the ceiling above his head once before all of that trapped oxygen slowly exited through his mouth. 

“Umm,” he said, “Thanks.” His eyes touched yours for a tenth of a second. “I think,” he squinted his eyes, lifted a hand lightly, and waved his rounded fingertips in the air for a moment, “I think -- that was a compliment, right? Not just a made-for-TV movie you were writing just now?” He was nervous. You could see it in the pinkness in his cheeks and the way his eyes refused to sink down into yours for longer than it took to keep track of your location. 

His nerves brought a smile to your face and you laughed lightly and covered your mouth with your fingertips, “Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, it’s a compliment. You look nice. Very nice.”

You could hear the nerves in your response and like a gentleman, so very unlike himself actually, he did not call attention to it. Instead, he spun on his feet and headed toward the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. He was fumbling with the foil on top and he was digging through a drawer for the corkscrew and speaking rather quickly at the same time. “Do you want a drink? I think we should both have a drink.” And you’d never seen someone make such quick work of one of those stubborn contraptions. 

You were nodding, because, yes please, and thank God. You were moving to the table to grab both of the wine glasses and he was meeting you halfway with the open bottle poised and ready to pour you giggled just a little bit when his flighty eyes touched yours and he giggled just a little bit too. He poured each of the glasses halfway full with the dark red liquid. The bottle was set down with a thud and his fingertips brushed lightly against yours when he grabbed one of the glasses, and to your absolute devastation, the most beautiful and disarming smile landed lightly on his face when you gave his glass the smallest clink with a tip of your own. 

“Should we toast?” you lifted your eyebrows with the echo of the clink still hovering in the air and his glass was already touching his bottom lip. He pulled it away for a second and his eyes were wider now. 

“I -- uhh, kind of just want to drink it,” his smile returned and you laughed out loud placing a hand on his arm to keep him from lifting it any closer to his lips. 

“Fine, say something,” he caved and his glass was back down closer to your lifted one. 

“Well now I can't think of anything,” you frowned and his lips closed up, a ripple of movement flowed through his face but you were thinking hard, trying to find something fitting to say in this situation. He waited patiently and when you gasped and smiled his eyebrows lifted expectantly. 

“Oh, I got it,” you lifted the glass with a renewed confidence in your voice, “To ‘No Sex Tonight,’” you said with a wide smile, and his eyes with lifted eyebrows above them widened even further. He was pulling his lips in between his teeth, biting lightly, and making no effort to toast with you. He wasn’t opening his mouth to say the toast. You leaned your glass into his and lifted your head, shaking it and wiggling your eyebrows just a little so he could say it too. 

“To--,” you began again, encouraging him to say the toast. 

“To No Sex,” he said with his eyes slipping away from your face as he glanced around the room.

“Tonight,” you added and you clinked the glasses together again, making the satisfying sound and ignoring the fact that he didn’t say the last word of your toast out loud but you did take his mouthing the word ‘tonight’ as acceptable behavior. 

His glass was lifted and he was draining the contents, lifting his palm to rub over the surface of his lips when was finished swallowing you took a pretty good bit of your wine into your mouth and swallowed it down, using your tongue to catch any drops of the red that may have remained. 

You’d smelled the food when you first came in. With the taste of this wine on your tongue though your nose was picking up on something that you thought might pair very well with this choice. The more you could smell the hungrier you felt. 

“It smells delicious in here.” 

“Oh, it’s ready if we are,” He set his glass down and rounded the kitchen counter to move toward the stove which had lights on it to indicate that something was still hot and bubbling in the various pots and pans you could see. 

“You can,” he had begun to grab the handles of the pans but quickly left them behind to return to where you leaned against this counter and his hand was out, pointing you toward the table setting. “You can sit here,” he followed you closely behind as you were ushered toward the spot, and before you had a chance to reach for the chair his swift hand reached first. You looked up into his pink face briefly and then simply sat down. The man was buzzing around you, bringing the wine bottle over to you for a quick refill, doing the same for his own glass which he took one more sip of before he sat it down and you watched as he left the table to go back to the stove. There were movements and sounds and clanks and clatters and soon he was returning with two small shallow bowls. 

“So I,” he was already speaking before he had arrived at the table, “umm, didn’t really want to go too wild tonight. I’m not a fan of hyper-trendy gastronomics; not everything has to be deconstructed. Food can just be constructed. Plus your stomach has been hurting so I’ve gone for a more modern comfort vibe, umm--.” 

You looked down at the pretty yellow-colored soup he’d placed in front of you with the contrasting swirl of white in the center. There was a side of some crusty bread that looked a bit like he might have baked too and that might have explained the yeasty smell you’d caught when you first walked into the room. He extended his hand with a palm up toward the dish he’d just given you. Then he clasped his hands together silently and he lingered, specifically not sitting down on his own side to enjoy his own starter. 

“We have a browned butter, butternut squash, and apple bisque to start. It’s warm and soothing. Sweet and savory, kind of thing.” You really had never heard him speak this fast; saying quite so much. Honestly, it was filling you with bubbly giggles that you had to swallow back down. This side of him was captivating to witness. He was clearly so passionate about food that hearing him talk about it felt like having a gossip session with your bestie and being so pulled into their words that you gasped in surprise or shock or horror with each new twist. You found yourself watching his face closely as he spoke and wishing he wouldn’t stop. He talked quite a bit with his hands and you caught the smallest line of red color on his pinky finger. His hands moved too quickly for examination. He had already moved to his seat and was sitting down watching you with those hands fisted lightly in front of his face. 

You lifted the soup spoon and dipped it lightly into the center of the swirl, catching some of both of the pretty colors of this thick soup and the first taste on your tongue had your eyes widening in genuine surprise. You hadn’t at all expected the depth of flavor in this. You’d kind of just expected something quite like that time you tried squash baby food on a dare but when you actually swallowed a mouthful you could taste something delightfully nutty on your tongue, something undeniably savory yet with a sweetness that went so well with the flavors. The bread, when dipped into it added a contrast in texture and you looked up into his expectant face with a tiny, but thoroughly impressed expression written in your eyes. 

He hadn’t even had any of his yet. He just sat there and watched you with a very well-concealed smile behind his hands.

“Are you kidding me Doh Kyungsoo?” you said between spoonfuls and that smile widened as he bit down on his bottom lip and lifted a single eyebrow over his eye, the ‘exterior’ one, “Why the hell is this so good? It should just taste like squash but, how in the world?”

You heard the slow exhale from his lungs and he lifted his glass to hide his self-satisfied smile behind it. You heard the smallest giggle from him and he dipped his own spoon into his bowl for a small taste. 

More than just being delicious it felt nice inside of your stomach. Something about his choice of vegetables, specifically nothing acidic or spicy, nothing too harsh at all but downright comforting as it warmed you from the inside. He had really made this with only you in mind. You could feel it inside, both figuratively and literally. Your stomach felt soothed with each mouthful. You reached the bottom with the smallest frown of disappointment that it was over. 

Still, you were thankful that he’d only given you a reasonable amount of this soup. You were sure if you had unrestricted access to the pot on the stove you would eat too much of it and pop. As it was now, you’d finished the entire thing and he was already standing and reaching down for your bowl to clear it away. 

He hardly touched his. You wondered if he’d just made this for you and if it wasn’t exactly his favorite. Maybe he’d sampled too much of it while he was cooking it. 

He was busy in the kitchen again. When he returned it was time for the entree and he had a wider smile right off the bat. Clearly, your enjoyment of the soup had gotten rid of any of the nerves from earlier. Or maybe it was the wine that did it. 

“Our entree tonight is braised, brown sugar, balsamic short ribs on top of, uhh, a gouda polenta,” he was placing the dish in front of you, pointing a finger at the different elements on yet another beautifully plated dish of food. 

“Mushrooms instead of spinach, which I think you don't care for,” he pulled his lips tight and winced lightly as he said it with a slight upward inflection of his voice, “and I would normally do scallions on top, but you picked them off of the fish yesterday, so we have safe and harmless, microgreens instead.”

You looked across the table at him, a hand laid just over the bare skin on your chest and a genuinely surprised expression on your face. How he even knew about the spinach thing you had no idea. 

“Did you change the recipe for me?”

“Of course,” he said, looking down at the dish in front of him and picking up his fork, “Why wouldn’t I?” 

He asked it like you were the one dropping bombshells here. 

“How did you know I hate spinach?” you took the first bite of meat with a scoop of polenta and made sure to grab some mushrooms too and you honestly felt like you could just die tonight, even without ever having sex with this man, as long as you could eat this dish from start to finish you swear to God you’d die with a big smile on your face. 

Kyungsoo was chewing and swallowing, grabbing a sip of wine from his glass to clear his throat enough for a response. 

“Oh uhh,” he wiped at his mouth with a napkin, “Claire’s birthday dinner at Bella Mia,” he said with an odd air of finality. 

You lifted your head, mouth too full of food to speak, but after a quick swallow you leaned further, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Bella Mia, that was,” you were racing through your memory, “last year?” 

His eyes dropped to the food in front of him. After a few seconds of silence he was nodding his head lightly and he lifted a tiny bit of polenta into his mouth with the tip of his fork. You went silent as you watched him and after a few seconds, his eyes looked back up into yours. He reached for the wine again, taking a small sip and you were still watching without speaking.

“How do you remember that?” you had to ask it. You simply couldn’t comprehend how one interaction at a restaurant a year ago could have led to him remembering that you didn’t like spinach. You didn't even remember the spinach from that night. You’d never order a dish with spinach in the description, not intentionally. 

“I just do,” he answered and his lips hung open. You were shaking your head, still not quite getting it and he inhaled a long and deep breath, closed his eyes up, and opened his mouth to speak. 

“You asked the waiter if it was possible to take the spinach out of the Spinach Lemon Ricotta Ravioli as if that isn’t the most insane request in the history of Italian food. It’s literally the first ingredient in the name of that dish.” 

You had a mouthful of food and you made a face. You had no memory of this event, but honestly, it sounded like something you might do. You swallowed and you were fighting your smile. A small giggle escaped and you reached for the wine. 

“I need you to understand that at those kinds of high-end restaurants, staff will come in before the sun even comes up to make the fresh pasta, the dough, the filling, the sauces are all prepped and made, some of these things cook for hours. There will be chefs arriving at 4am just to make things like the filling for your Spinach Lemon Ricotta Ravioli and you,” his words paused and his mouth froze as his eyebrows lifted and he shook his head, closing his eyes, his hand was lifted and he motioned in your direction. 

You took another bite of food, thoroughly entertained by whatever you had done that he was he was complaining about, 

“You,” he inhaled a deep breath, “pretty little troublemaker, so fucking cute,” the casually thrown-in compliment stopped your chewing and you felt a warmth in your cheeks but he wasn’t finished, “came in, smiling sweetly and asks this poor kid who survives on your tips if he is willing to go back into that kitchen, which, is like a warzone during peak hours and ask some type-A asshole to remove the Spinach from the 4am prepped and assembled Spinach Lemon Ricotta Ravioli.”

You were laughing. You covered your mouth and you threw your head back with it. His own smile was wide and he watched the laughter move through you until it settled and you were able to nod your head with the smallest shrug as a response. You had no defense. You must have done that at the time and he was right, you didn’t like spinach and would usually avoid it if you could. 

He settled into a soft silence and his smile was gone but his eyes were on you. “I asked Claire for your number that night.” 

It felt like a shock to hear this next part. You hadn’t known this. Claire had never told you. You searched his face for truth and leaned closer to him. 

“You have my number?” 

He nodded his head, closing his eyes lightly and licking his lips. His bottom lip was pink from the wine.

“You never used it,” you remarked and the head nodding didn’t stop. He made no claims to the opposite. 

“I didn’t use it.” 

“Why not?” 

He looked at you with a little bite of his teeth together that you saw through his parted lips. You heard the little hiss of air that escaped. 

“You scare the shit out of me.” It came out as a whisper and you pulled your face back, unable to quite believe that entirely. He didn’t act like someone who was even the least bit intimidated by you. There was nothing scary about you at all. You couldn’t even kill a spider, the thing you hated the most in the world. How in the world were you scary?

“I do?” you were shaking your head and he was nodding his head. “Still? But Kyungsoo, I’m just--” 

“Still do,” his lips formed an O shape and he spoke over whatever denial you were about to voice about how very un-scary you actually were. So what if you were sarcastic and kind of mean and temperamental at times and yelled at him and called him mean names. It didn’t make any sense. None of that was scary. 

“But, why?” 

You lost his eyes when you asked for the reason. He looked down at the table, lifting his half-finished plate and looking over at your empty plate, he simply stood up and grabbed both of them, taking them both over to that kitchen sink where you heard the sounds of water running. He was running too.

He’d gone out of his way to avoid it. You didn’t have it in you to find out the potentially terrible truths about how he really saw you, not tonight. You were having a nice dinner and a nice date with him. You’d both been laughing and giggling and the food was so delicious and felt so nice inside of your stomach, the last thing you wanted was to ruin it by pushing him to answer something he didn’t want to answer. What you always hated the most was being pushed into something you didn’t want to do and you owed him the courtesy of respecting the things he didn’t want to do. 

You wouldn't push.

The wine bottle on the counter was empty. You’d lifted it and shook it with a little frown on your lips. You could see Kyungsoo’s strong back as he moved at the sink and you slipped behind him to reach the fridge where you’d seen him pull the wine bottle from. You were pretty sure you’d seen a few more bottles in there. 

The sound of the fridge door opening pulled his attention away from the dishes he was washing and he angled his torso in your direction with his wet hands still under the running water.

“I’ll get it,” he said quickly and he was rinsing and reaching for a towel. 

“I got it,” you said. You already had the bottle on the counter and you had removed the foil to expose the cork. You were holding the corkscrew above the bottle, pointing it downward with the smallest push. Nothing really happened. You lifted the little arms up and down, noticing how the fat screw moved up and down too. It looked like a joyful little man with a spring for legs.

Kyungsoo was standing behind you, you felt the warmth of him at your back. His arms reached around you and you watched him grip your hand that held the corkscrew, his other hand landed over your other hand and he pulled you up so you were holding the neck of the bottle. It felt exactly like when you were his puppet and he used your body to cook a meal. Except he stood so much closer to you now. No witnesses were watching you both touch each other and you could feel so much more of his body behind you. His hand pressed yours down, corkscrew in hand and he was turning it as he pushed hard. Your wandering eyes watched the flex of his muscles in his forearm.. 

You felt a little bit dizzy and you could feel the effects of his closeness behind you. Your eyes drifted closed and you leaned against him. Letting your head fall back just a little bit so you could feel the weight of his head resting against your own. A low sound escaped your mouth and his breath caught audibly in his throat. His hand that was turning the corkscrew stopped its progress and he froze in place for three whole seconds before you caught the clench of his arm muscles. You’d long abandoned opening the bottle and your hand that had been so busy working had drifted up to just over your shoulder where his face was. You felt the smoothness of his cheek, the firmness in his tense jaw and when you turned your face into him, he hardly gave you any space at all for the spin within his arms and while you’d managed it you were standing so close to him that every bit of his skin was magnified. He seemed to be purposely avoiding your eyes even as you dipped your head to catch them. 

“Stop it,” he whispered and you smiled when his eyes drifted down to look into yours. 

“Why’d you take it away? I was doing it.”

“You weren’t doing shit,” he said with an undercurrent of humor. Behind you, he worked. He didn’t even strain with the effort, not even grunting or making any sounds to indicate that it was even a little bit difficult for him. He just effortlessly pulled the cork out behind your back. He lifted the corkscrew up with the cork still threaded through the spring. You turned to look at it, lifting an eyebrow to see the result of his efforts and he used both of his hands to lift the little arms up and down. It wiggled in his fingers.

“You were making it dance. That’s all you were doing.” 

He was gripping the bottle and walking away from you, doing the cutest little sidestep in the middle of his journey toward the table. You knew, just as you had been, that he’d been a bit affected by the closeness with you just now. 

Soon you had a glass filled with wine in your hand and you had this handsome man’s face back at your side. He was sipping and his eyes were still just a little bit too evasive in a way that put the smallest pout on your lips. You had an inclination that you were being just a little bit bad, but it was only a little bit. You hadn’t even kissed him earlier. You hadn’t touched him with your hands that much, very little actually, he was the one who had put his hands on you, he was the one who wrapped his arms around you and coated your back with his body and even placed his feet just within the same tile you occupied on the floor in front of that countertop. There was no reason why he needed to be stingy with his looks, just because maybe you’d imagined kissing him just now. 

After a few moments, he spoke.

“Did you like it?” 

You lifted your eyebrows and tilted your head, pulling the wine glass down from your lips. You swallowed and lifted your eyes to contemplate what exactly you were being asked. The fantasies about kissing his lips? Yes, you did like those. The closeness to his body? You craved more. Kyungsoo watched your thinking face and you caught the movement of his hand as he raised it up to your face, taking his thumb and lightly running it over your bottom lip. You could feel the moisture he pulled away there; a drop of wine he had wiped from your mouth for you. 

“Yes,” you said in a whisper and his eyes narrowed as he looked away from you for a second.

“You did?” he lifted a single eyebrow, turned from you again, and smiled into the wine glass.

“You finished it. You must have liked it. More so than the fish last night, I think.” 

“Oh, the food,” you giggled and took another sip, leaning lightly against the kitchen counter to keep your balance stable through the laughter. “Yes, the food was amazing, Kyungsoo.”

He was looking at your silly reaction with a widening of his smile. “Of course the food, what did you think I was talking about?” This man was cute when he giggled.

“I liked the fish too. It was probably the best fish I’ve ever tasted.” When your words were out his head was shaking back and forth but that smile stayed put on his pretty face. 

“You sat there, painstakingly picking off every single little bit of scallion you could find on the top of that thing. Do you have any idea how tiny I cut those? Some of them were microscopic and you wouldn't even take a bite until you’d gotten everyone.”

“They weren’t that small. I’m very good with picking things out of my food that I don't want to eat, I have excellent chopsticks skills.” 

“And I have excellent knife skills. I was just waiting for you to try it. And then when you did, you didn’t even say anything. A few bites, not even a head nod. Not even a smile. Do you know what that does to a man?” 

You reached forward and gripped the hand that was flying around in front of him as he talked and his eyes fell down to where you held onto him. You lifted his hand and moved your fingers so that you held on tight to his pinky finger, the one with the very obvious fresh knife slice on it. 

“Knife skills? Kyungsoo, you didn't even cut yourself when you were blindfolded. What is this?” you had a teasing giggle on your lips and his mouth opened once and closed back up again, clearly not expecting you to see the evidence of the small mistake he had made with the knife as he cooked dinner tonight. 

“I had you then,” he said through a rough inhale of air into his lungs and he looked away from you again, sipping on the glass of wine, draining nearly the rest of the glass.

It was a good thing he claimed to have a high alcohol tolerance because you had never made such claims and you both were working through these bottles pretty quickly. 

He was exhaling and he was closing his eyes, shaking his head back and forth and a rough laugh broke through.

“Do you know when the last time I cut myself during prep was?” His eyes were wild now, the smile sheepish and telling, “It’s probably been five -- ten years. I don't mess up, but you--” he inhaled again and stopped speaking for a second. 

“You.” you heard him repeat it. You, the source of all of his problems. Somehow you couldn’t find any reason to be offended. “You had me all fucked up.” 

“I did?” your smile was genuine. You were definitely flattered by this little confession of his. “Do you want me to put a bandaid on it?” You frowned down, not meaning the pity on your face one bit, “blow on it, maybe.” Your lips formed into a tiny ‘o’ shape and you exhaled a slow breath through your lips, lifting his hand up so his wounded pinky was positioned right in front of your lips. You felt too out of control again. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt this giddy. Or the last time you’d flirted this intensely with a man who flat-out refused to have you but definitely wanted you as badly as you did him. 

It was while you held his hand that a thought came back to you. A call-back to before the kiss, before the man pulled you into him and hugged you so tightly, burrowing his face against your belly. Long before you’d even known the depths of his actual feelings for you and your mind sharpened to that thought so intently that your eyes widened with the realization. You were speaking to him before you had a chance to really think about the words you were saying. Although with the wine, you probably wouldn’t have made very many adjustments before you just started blabbing.

“Kyungsoo,” your eyes were wide and you shook his hand within yours. His attention was grabbed in an instant just because of the urgency you had in your voice. You really hadn’t even considered it at all at the time, but now, “Kyungsoo! You could have had sex!” 

You said it with such shock in your voice and his wide eyes flattened and he narrowed them at you, watching your face for a long time as you simply nodded your head in excitement. He very carefully removed his hand from within yours while you were distracted.

“Scrabble, you could have spelled out ‘sex’! You had an ‘X’ Kyungsoo, an ‘X’, that is ten points! It would have sat on the triple letter score, that would have been,” You were counting in your head, lifting a finger to do little mental tabulations, “33 points! Why did you play ‘see’ when you could have had ‘sex’?”

There was something happening on his face. It wasn’t the face of a man who’d had such a grand revelation dropped right into his lap but his eyes were closing up, he was exhaling a very long breath and seemed to go on forever and he was shaking his head very shallowly as he did it. Why wasn’t he excited? He would have stood a chance against you. You frowned lightly at his disappointing reaction. 

“Don't you,” he was speaking. It was coming out slowly. There was some sort of attitude in between his words, “think,” he bit down on his lip and inhaled again, “Don't you think I thought about ‘sex’?”

“I thought about it. ‘Sex’ was the first thing I thought of. The very first thing, before anything else. ‘Sex’ was there --- in my head -- the whole time.” This was a revelation to you. Why didn’t he use it if he had already considered it? Why did he play such a shitty word when he could have had a good one worth a lot of points. 

“I couldn’t play ‘sex.’” He said it with a hand wave into the air in front of him. It felt very final of him to do. “Not with you.” he added with a widening of his eyes and his eyebrows lifted. He seemed just a little bit too worked up for this discussion about Scrabble. “Anyone else, yes, fine. It literally doesn’t matter. But not with you.” 

“Why not with me?” It was inconceivable. He was the most competitive person you had ever met in your entire life and he wanted you to believe that he wouldn’t do anything he possibly could to beat you? Sure 33 points didn’t come close to your 50 but still, he was never going to catch up to you with a measly 5 point word. It sounded a little bit like he wanted to lose. Like he threw in the towel and threw the game. 

“Because I like you -- like that,” He spoke quite abruptly and whatever protests you had planned got caught within your open mouth. 

“Like sex. Like, really, really like you. Like you make me feel fucking crazy, you make me fuck up while cooking, something I don't do.”

“Like I think about you constantly and I want to see you and be near you and hear your laugh and feed you. I want you to think of me and I want you to kiss me. Like it actually scares the shit out of me, how much I like you. Because…because--,” He rubbed a hand roughly through his hair, abandoning this thought.  

“So, no. I couldn’t play ‘sex.’ Not with you.”

You felt too stunned to move. You’d long since closed up your surprised mouth but you stood there looking at this man who had just confessed quite a lot to you and then he had closed up his eyes, lifted his hand to cover his eyes as he tilted his head back. You could see his eyes come open again and he looked up into the ceiling with about as much regret written all over his face as you’d ever seen. 

“Oh,” you managed. It was tiny and yet he heard it and his head sank down, pink cheeks, bright red ears --  all of him. You lifted your wine glass, with the little bit you still had left, slipped a very careful hand down to rest it under his hand holding his own glass, and lifted it just a bit higher, quite surprised that he hadn’t dropped it or spilled the last few drops during his passionate speech about how much he likes you and how absolutely head over heels he was for you and how he would rather lose at something than admit just how badly he wants you; and with the smallest little tilt of your hand you hit the rim of your glass against his, letting the sound of that glass clinking note ring out clearly in the silent space between you both. 

“To ‘No Sex Tonight,’” you whispered into the opening of your wine glass and you lifted it, draining the last of its contents, as you simultaneously lifted the hand that sat below his wine glass until it reached his lips and you felt him give in, raising the glass and swallowing what was left. 

The silence between the two of you withstood. Neither of you said anything after the stupid toast and you cleared your throat actually beginning to feel quite desperate for something to fill in this silence. You almost couldn’t breathe in here. 

“You didn’t seem to eat much,” you had to speak, even if the words were just a flimsy subject change. You had actually been interested in his odd behavior with the amazing food he had spent two hours preparing. 

“Oh,” he said with a wave of his hand and a head shake, “I’m uhh, kind of sick of my own cooking.” he even had the audacity to make a face that had a tinge of disgust. You threw your face back and away from him, lifting your hand to cover your chest in absolute disbelief. 

“You what?” your question betrayed the absolute disbelief you felt. 

“I mean, I just can’t. Especially something that takes a long time to cook. If I’ve been smelling something for hours, sometimes it just overstays its welcome. I can’t really explain it.” 

You tried to remember seeing him eating before and he did in fact seem to pick at his fish and not really eat it with the same vigor that you had devoured your filet with. But then again you remembered him with the eggs benedict. He had cleared that dish completely; you saw the empty plate and all. 

“But you ate all of the eggs this morning.” 

“Oh, you made that. I liked that,” he said with a hand wave. He was again, refilling his glass of wine and tipping the bottle opening to do the same for yours. 

You were shaking your head, remembering how heavy of a hand he had in that dish, how vigorously he was shaking your hand to get that hollandaise sauce to reach the correct state of emulsification, and how hard it was to keep up with him as he did it. 

“Kyungsoo, you just held my hands, you made it.”

“No way, That was you. I just touched you a little and showed you what to do. I helped very little in that, you did most of it. You did great. The tomatoes were a little,” he held up his index finger and thumb, “large, but I actually liked how they felt to bite into. I think I’ll start adjusting my cutting every now and then and just fucking go for it like you did.”

“Rustic, you know?” He was teasing you, you could feel it in the soft smile that had landed on his lips and you scoffed out a quick laugh. 

You reached out a hand to swat at his chest and he giggled, seeing you coming he reached up to grab ahold of your hand, keeping your palm flat against his chest for a few moments. 

“Do you have room?” His question was vague and of course, your mind had been focused on feeling that steady rhythm of his heart beating below the thin fabric of this shirt he was wearing. Below your palm, you could feel the firmness in his chest muscles and it took you longer than it should have to acknowledge that he spoke to you. 

“Dessert?” You knew he couldn’t have been asking if you had room in your bed for him tonight because yes, yes, a thousand yes’s, he could fit beside you and inside of you and — he was nodding his head, “did you make dessert too?” you asked.

“Something very simple. We only had eggs and milk here. Crème brûlée.”

You felt the sudden excitement. It was one of your favorites! Not just because it was delicious but you absolutely loved cracking it with the spoon. You were smiling and nodding and you lifted up your hand, moving it up and down a little as if you held a spoon. 

“Ooo, can I do the cracking?” 

He laughed once while heading to the fridge and pulling it open. 

“Yeah, let me torch it.” He pulled out two ramekins and made quick work of sprinkling sugar on top of each of them. Then he had fire. You watched him hold the fire and you were standing right beside him holding two teaspoons held up in front of your face and you watched and you waited with wide-eyed excitement. The sugar that he had sprinkled slowly began to change color and it melted and bubbled and you leaned over his shoulder to watch it.

The second the torch was off you leaned forward with a spoon outstretched.

“Wait, wait,” he was laughing harder, “you need to wait a few seconds.”

He touched very lightly on top of the toasted sugar and nodded his head twice, “Okay, go.” 

You reached forward and smacked it hard. The first crack was the absolute best and you tapped the spoon again a few more times, delighted with the satisfaction you felt inside. You kept cracking until there was no more cracking to be had and he was holding his belly with laughter as he watched you do it. You felt like a child at Christmas time.

When you pulled your face back up and looked at him you had only one question for him. He was already giggling and shaking his head with his eyes closed.

“Kyungsoo,” you whined. He was nodding his head already, answering the question he already knew you were going to ask, “Kyungsoo are you going to crack yours? Can I crack yours?” You had your hands lifted into a begging posture and your spoon was still lifted, with bits of sugar from the first one still stuck to it.

 “You can,” he giggled and nodded again and you wasted no time, not willing to risk that he might change his mind and regret giving you cracking permission; you hit just as hard, cracking it all over until it was completely shattered and all of the cracking was finished. You pulled your face up and smiled widely. 

Kyungsoo had reached for a spoon and was dipping it into the pudding, lifting up a small bit and bringing it up to your mouth. You opened your lips and accepted the bite. Of course, it was delicious. It was sweet and creamy and expertly set. The bits of torched sugar on top added a pleasant crunch. He was dipping his spoon and taking a bite from the same ramekin as you had tried and you looked down at the other dessert, dipping your spoon and pushing another mouthful into his surprised mouth. He pulled it in, chewing and swallowing and the back and forth continued for a few more minutes until both dishes were completely empty and you simply couldn’t handle any more food tonight. You felt thoroughly done. You felt insane with the giddiness, struggling to come up with a single flaw no matter how hard you thought about it. Maybe the only regret you felt inside of your heart could be just how well-behaved you had been all night long. You hadn’t once done anything that might lead to forbidden sex that he definitely didn't want and as you watched his face, he definitely looked content to lean against this countertop and simply exist beside you in your presence. 

He had said that, after all. That he wanted to be near you. To hear your laughter, to feed you. 

“Kyungsoo,” you called his attention and he turned his face to you, still a little bit rosy from all the laughter but much calmer now that the wild excitement you were feeling had faded some. His eyebrows lifted and his eyes roamed around your face with the tiny hum that left his chest. You held your breath and closed your eyes. 

“Do you want to be together -- with me -- in a relationship?” As soon as it was out, you felt a surge of nerves flood through your stomach. The effect was so strong and instantaneous and he seemed completely frozen in place, his eyes were still on your face and only the smallest tick of his head was his only movement. His smile and all traces of that happiness were gone in an instant. He just stared at you with a completely caught-off-guard expression in his eyes and his mouth motionless and silent.

And he stayed that way for the four, five, six deep breaths that you took, not moving a muscle and definitely not answering your question with a loud, definite, ear-bursting yes. In fact the longer his silence went on and on, there came a moment in his silence where you could no longer look at him. You had to look away and you closed your eyes up tight when you heard the inhale and the exhale that came from his lungs, but absolutely no words came out of him. Nothing. He said nothing. 

You exhaled a small scoff of disbelief.

This question came too soon. You were an idiot. He liked you, sure but that didn’t mean he was ready for anything serious with you. He wasn’t even ready to give into the most basic human act of sex without being absolutely completely sure he was committed to someone and that they were committed to him. There had been a reason he hadn’t ever asked you for any sort of commitment. Not only did he not want the sex, but he didn’t want you, not really, not like that. He had told you twice about how scared he was of you. Was this why he had stood you up that night? Was this the reason why he had been so hesitant to get close to you for so long? 

You shook your head and lifted your face, opening your eyes and pushing the smile to your face. You sold it so well. He was looking down at the countertop, absentmindedly picking up grains of sugar with his fingertip, moving all that had spilled into the smallest pile and you could see the conflict written all over his face. 

“Sorry,” you whispered because you were sorry to him. Sorry that you had to say such an abrupt thing when he obviously wasn’t ready for anything like that. Sorry that you couldn’t be the solution to all of his worries and problems in his life. Sorry that you actually caused a few more problems for him than you meant to. You watched him, catching the drift of his eyes as he looked halfway up but he never pulled his attention completely up to you. “I understand,” you said a little bit louder. “Thank you for a lovely dinner, Kyungsoo. It was amazing. You are amazing.” 

You had to leave though. You simply could not stand it here, in this atmosphere you had created with your enormous leaps. Why you simply could not control yourself, you had never been able to figure out. The worst part about you, the thing you absolutely hated the most was your flimsy self-control. It had gotten you fired when you lashed out at that bitch who baited you daily. It had led to you lashing out in anger at friends in the past. At Kyungsoo when you’d felt that he’d done you wrong. You hated everything about yourself right now. You always leaped first and asked questions later. It was the worst. You were the worst. 

You tapped twice on the back of his hand, a small farewell, literally the only thing you could do besides the flimsy apology and you spun on your heels, taking very swift steps out of the kitchen, through the blue door that slammed with a heavy noise on your way through it, down the darkened hallway passed the room with the bunks and further down until you reached a dead end. There was only a big exit door here. It blurred around the edges with the tears that filled your eyes. This was the way out of this place for good. 

The rain had stopped long ago and you pushed the door open, reaching the edge of the front patio and its steep steps. You sat down on the top step wishing and praying to the heavens above that the rain could start again soon because you were desperate for something to hide the tears that streamed down your face. 

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

[lint-beetle4]

If you do smut, it's OK if not, can you do a Trans masc reader and Nezha? I liked the idea of Nezha gently kissing Lotus tattoos and I think it'd be so cute and hot for a reader that's like me-

If not smut then as a uplifting fluff then-

Ink-Stained Thighs (Nezha X Trans Masc!Reader Fluff and Smut)

When you and Nezha are dating, he notices that you have tattoos of lotuses and he's fascinated

He doesn't know if you got it recently for him or if it's something you've gotten before, but he still finds his eyes drawn to the petals and how they trail across your body

He kind of wants to explore where they start and end

Whether it be he asking or you noticing how he stares at you, you explain why you chose the lotus flower

He still loves it, it invades his mind like a weed crawling through his thoughts

Nezha is a work-a-holic, but the one thing that distracts him most is knowing that those lotus petals are still on your body

It eats at him for some reason, the way something so closely related to him is on your body

He calls you lotus petal as a nickname and whenever he's free and away from the eyes of the other celestials and mortals, he presses his lips on every petal he can find

He loved admiring the craftsmanship on your skin, stroking the petals softly as he says how beautiful they look on you and how you glow with them

(Smut portion below)

"You are such a handsome man, my blossom."

You weren't sure how you ended up like this, how Nezha's lips caressed your skin so gently, sending waves of pleasure and slight pricks of pain through your core.

"Your skin is so soft and sweet, like a peach ripe from the tree."

Perhaps it was you who suggested the idea, telling Nezha with a smirk to come see where the branches began on your skin. Perhaps it was Nezha, red in the face, tired from work, ready to simply enjoy your presence. Regardless, Nezha's hands trailed on your arms, circling the petals softly as his hands explored your body, lips tailing down to your chest, giving warmth and attention to each sector.

"You give me such light in my life, my darling. You have no idea how much I've been waiting to ravish you."

He teased your lower section, eyes looking at you for permission as you nodded with hot, trembling breaths. Yet, Nezha didn't go to where you needed the most attention. No, he looked at your thighs, rubbing the soft skin as his teeth nipped at each petal littered on your skin, sucking the offended area with a wet tongue. Bites trailed through your legs, warm kisses and soft hands soothing them as Nezha filled you with pleasure.

"You are so strong, like you could defeat the greatest warrior in this realm. Could your strength allow you to persist for just a second longer?"

Nezha's tongue was masterful, his mouth doing wonders on your body as you buck and thrust into him, trying to reach the impending climax soon. As you felt pressure slowly building up through your legs, Nezha held down your thighs, pulling away from you with nothing more than a hard gaze. You panted, trying gain more stimulation yet Nezha's arms never budged.

"Turn around, my Love." Nezha commanded stiffly. "I want to see if you have more petals left untouched."

[gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes]

With thanks to some inspiring writers and artists, just a little stucky rec list:

A Helping Hand by @stuckytoyoulikeglue

Black and Blue by @darter-blue and @the1918

For the Summer by CoraRochester, fadefilter, @steebadore

The large and the smol of it by @kalee60

Agent Rogers by @stevieschrodinger

Tin Man by @shadydigress

these, our bodies, possessed by light (tell me we’ll never get used to it) by @voxofthevoid

Ethos Logos Pathos by @im-weapon @elkleggs

Sour as Vinegar, Sweet As Honey by @thiccbuckybarnesfic @call-me-kayyyyy

When the Blood Has Dried by @dontcallmebree and @potterspink

I was alone, I took a ride (I didn't know what I would find there) by @otp-holic

[wonik1ss]

౨ৎ Work Adversaries ! — minji kim

pairing — non idol!minji x reader song rec : my problem - jordi + passion fruit - nmixx ( 1.2k ) warnings ! none ᯤ ^ ㅇ ^ happy reading ! ⸝⸝・ᘏᘏ

synopsis : on a fateful Wednesday afternoon 2 people cut ties with you. but with cupid on your side you have 2 different paths to take to hopefully get back together with these 2 people by Valentine’s Day end! val event !

You nodded to Yeji as you went down to the cafe to get the groups lunch. You but you lip as you stared at the menu. Tiramisu? Or a Cinnabon?.

“Gosh Y/n you such a sugar-holic!”. As your head whipped around to see who the voice belonged you smiled.

“It’s not for me! Not my fault Yuna has such a sweet tooth”. The older girl giggled as she linked your arm with hers.

“So-“

“Are you gonna order or what”. Your face became red as the annoyed worker tapped the cash register. You ordered and then sat down with Minji.

“Should you really be running these errands for people?”

“First ‘people’ is Yeji and I owe her”. Minji’s eyebrows furrowed as she tilted her head.

“She took my shift when I was sick a few weeks ago..!”. Minji’s eyes widened, as she grabbed your hands.

“Are you ok now? Do you need an-“

“I’m fine Minji.. why are you so worried?”. Minji blinked twice and then let go of your hands.

“Nothing.. I just could have.. nursed you to health if you told me?”

“I had a common cold..”. You smiled as the girl rolled her eyes.

“You know what I mean”. You giggled, and your head whipped up as your name was called. After you got your’s Minji got hers and you both got into the elevator together. Now was your time to shine.

“So anything.. sad mad or bad going on?”. As you swayed back and forth Minji’s eyebrow tilted upwards.

“No.. what’s with the quoting bibi songs?”

“Nothing.. just looking out for a friend..”. Minji nodded as you faced the elevator’s doors again. You were about to break the silence when the elevator jerked up and then down and stopped. You were about to fall face flat, when Minji grabbed your waist with her unoccupied arm.

“You ok”. You nodded as the girl, hand still on your waist pressed the emergency button. Maybe that weirdly fashionable girl was right..

As Minji talked to the operator you couldn’t help but stare at her face. She was biting her check and trying to stay as calm as possible. But it wasn’t really working. As the operator told you someone would be there in a minute and hung up you giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.. just never thought this would happen in the building again..”

“Again?”. With that you and Minji ended up in the floor together. Food in one corner and Minji’s hand wrapped around your waist while she sat next to you. As you blabbed on Minji held onto every word you spoke. As the you checked and saw thirty minutes had passed you cursed. your stomach rumbled and you sighed. You didn’t buy yourself any food because of your mission..

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh.. I’m just hungry and didn’t get any food cause.. you kinda distracted me”. Minji’s face dropped a little.

“I’m so sorry..!”

“It’s fine! Really!”. She looked so cute worried.

“Let’s share mine”. You didn’t get any time to object seeing Minji opened her lunch. As you shared stories you some how ended up on the girls lap.

“Ow..!”

“Having bushy eyebrows are fine and all but there a little messy”. After a lot of talking Minji let you give her a ‘elevator make over. It had been and hour and two and you had tweezers soooo..

“Ow..!”. You laughed and kissed Minji’s eyebrow.

“Don’t be such a baby”. Minji froze and stared down at her hands. You giggled as you started to play with her hands in your lap. As your finished your eye slowly went down to her’s. Which were on your lips. Your lips slowly opened and shock. Minji took that as an opening. The girl put her soft hands on your face and leaned in.

Still surprised you left hands stiff around her neck. Minji tilted her head and started to kiss you. First it was soft kiss, that lead to a soft make out session and her tongue in your mouth. Finally out of air the girl stopped kissing you. As you started blinking rapidly a strand up Minji’s hair fell infront of her face. As you went to tuck it back in the girl went to kiss you again.

“Don’t worry girls were coming”. You jumped of the girls lap as you heard the voice. A few minutes later fire men helped you out of elevator and Yeji hugged you.

“I’m so sorry I should have gone with you”. As you tried to calm down the girl, Minji stared. Not longingly like you would think. Her eyes were like siren’s and her arms were crossed. Minji Kim.. Minji Kim as jealous..?

Come to think of it you hanged out with Yeji a lot. You had like five people who weren’t assholes and Yeji was one of them. She always lightly flirted with you and always gave you a little ‘fighting!’ anytime she saw you. Come to think of it in the corner of your eyesight you always saw Minji pouting anytime Yeji was around.

You smiled your head at your new revelation as Yeji cupped your cheeks. You told her everything was fine once again and then bowed to her. Turning around to see Minji nowhere in sight. Shit.

As you opened your door your froze. The fuck was on your old ass couch. As the women turned around she smiled.

“Finally! Tell me the tea”. The girl put a finger up and then zapped your table and two cups of tea and a kettle appeared. Let’s hope you weren’t gon have to get used to this angel and her drop by’s.

“She’s jealous”. Wonyoung gasped as you locked your door and sat next to her.

“Of who? Your literally a loner at work”. The puzzled look on your face made Wonyoung laugh.

“Don’t worry.. just did a little recon on you.. by the way how is that plant alive? You haven’t feed it in..12.. no.. 56 days..”. You rolled your eyes as Wonyoung sipped her tea.

“Do you want me to fall in love or tell you my secret behind the plants wellness?”. Wonyoung thought about it and then smiled.

“Both!”

“Are you serious?!”

“That plant should not be alive right now!”. You sighed.

“So my plan is to.. invite Minji on a date..”

“To what a park girl your poor”. You would have said anything if said rude girl wasn’t sitting on your couch pink suit, pink glasses and pink Chanel purse. Did they even sell those?

“Yeji has a girlfriend.. Ryujin and we’re gonna ‘run into them’ then she’ll be mad like drag her out and we can talk about it and go on a not weirdly planned date!”. As you smiled Wonyoung nodded.

“First we gotta find you some better clothes.. who the hell has twenty cat sweaters?”

“Can’t I call like.. Aphrodite on you or something?”. Wonyoung laughed clutched her purse and put her cup of tea down.

“Babe many have tired..”. As motioned you to get closer.

“None have succeeded”. Wonyoung flicked your head and then stood up starting to walk to your room.

“Lucky I was nominated as the best stylist!”

“Where? And what idiot would do that”. As you heard a door open and close, a cat appeared in you lap. Then five more. Fuck this bitch.

“Have fun with that rash!”. Boy was this girl getting on your last nerve. You just hopped you could keep one before your ‘date’ with Minji.

[archiveikemen]

'Doting Love Holic' Collection Event

William Rex

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

thank you @otomefiend for providing the story because i couldn't get it in time 🤭

// I'm having some problems with attaching photos, so I'll add them later. //

-

Roger: That’s unfortunate, the young lady lost.

Kate: Ugh…

Alfons: You need more practice with poker, Kate.

I sighed in exasperation with poker cards in hand.

Roger and Alfons invited me to play poker with them after dinner, and I lost three rounds consecutively.

Kate: I’m just unlucky… next time I’ll…

Alfons: Fufu, you don’t need luck for poker.

Alfons: Once you reach the point in the game where your win or loss is to be decided, as long as you have a strong enough attitude that makes your opponent feel hopeless, you’ll win.

William: What was the bet?

Kate: Will…!

I instinctively straightened my back when I heard the voice that would always make my body temperature rise, and saw my lover standing there dressed in a casual shirt.

Kate: … Did you bathe?

William: Yeah. … Fufu, this is a bad hand of cards.

William: At times like this, you must know whether it’s a win or loss.

Will rested his hand on my chair and looked over my shoulder at the cards in my hand.

Kate: …

The faint smell of Will’s skin tickled my nose, making my heart race.

(Will fresh out of the bath… not good for my heart.)

Roger: Unfortunately, we didn’t bet on anything.

William: Hmm, that’s rare. Playing a game without a prize.

A drop of water fell from the edge of Will’s silver hair onto his neck and trickled down onto his collarbone.

As if invited to, my gaze couldn't help but follow the droplet…

Alfons: That’s a very perverted gaze, Kate.

Kate: Huh?

William: Hm?

The moment my eyes met Will’s, the tips of my ears instantly turned hot.

(I- I…)

(W- Was it so obvious that even the people around me noticed…!?)

I was embarrassed to the core, hurriedly shaking my head in denial.

Kate: Absolutely not, I certainly did not have such a look in my eyes…!

Thanks to being led on by Alfons’, the strange excuse I blurted out made my face turn even redder and hotter.

William: Hmm? 😏

Will placed his hand on the backrest of my chair and narrowed his eyes cheekily.

William: I don’t mind you looking at me with an obscene gaze.

Kate: Huh…

William: Am I mistaken? That’s too bad.

My mind turned blank.

My face was getting hotter and hotter, but I couldn't say a word.

Will gazed lovingly at me as I was at a loss for words, and then smiled.

William: … Actually, I think that what my little robin needs to learn more is how to keep a poker face.

William: So that she won’t show this lovely facial expression on the outside.

Kate: Nn…?

When I snapped back to my senses, my lips were stolen in a kiss.

Before I could even feel surprised, his tongue slipped into my mouth and our tongues tangled together.

Alfons: My, my.

Roger: You’re showing off.

(Doing this in front of the two of them…)

I hurriedly tried to pull away, but my face was caught between two hands.

(Will…?)

Kate: Nn… mmph…

The forceful yet sweet enough to make me drown in pleasure kiss threw my emotions into disarray.

(Why is he doing this…)

(... Could it be—)

A few days ago, Will and I watched a play together.

In order to prevent his lover from attracting other men, one of the characters drowned her in endless love.

And it led to an intense and passionate scene.

At that moment, really, at only that very moment… I thought about what if Will did that to me—

That thought caused a sweet aching in my heart.

(Back then… did he notice…?)

Will’s eyes opened slightly, as if he had heard what was in my mind. And he smiled bewitchingly as our lips met again.

Kate: Nn… nn…

(This is so embarrassing, I’m going crazy.)

(Still…)

(... What should I do… I’m so happy.)

His sweet kiss and gaze gradually melted away all the rationality left in me.

Will eventually let go of me and slowly traced my lips with his thumb.

Kate: … Haa…

A sweet sigh escaped my lips, and my shame returned.

(Oh no, I… I got too absorbed in the kiss—)

My face was so hot that I couldn't bring myself to look up, I didn't want to see the looks on Alfons and Roger’s faces at all.

William: Pardon my interruption in the middle of your game.

William: While I’m interrupting, can I steal her away?

Alfons: … I have yet to reach the level of foolishness that I’d say no after witnessing such a loving gesture between the two of you.

Roger: I fold (surrender) too.

William: That’s wonderful. Let’s go, Kate.

…

Kate: Will…

William: … Hm?

I was full of lust for Will, even the people around me could see that.

My body melted and turned limp under his caresses.

Kate: That kiss just now… was it for my sake?

I asked in between ragged breaths, and Will remained silent like he was in no rush to answer.

He patted my head affectionately and slowly answered.

William: … That’s right. It was half to satisfy your desires.

(Half…)

(The ones kissing were Will and myself.)

(If it was half for me, then the other half is for—)

My heart ached with anticipation at the thought of getting something “special”.

Kate: And the other half…?

Will narrowed his eyes, seemingly having seen through my anticipation, and spoke slowly.

William: … You’re irresistibly attractive when you're absorbed in a game, and when your emotions change between being happy and upset.

William: That itself is could be a prize for a game.

Kate: Nn…

My head went numb when he teasingly traced his fingers across my body, testing the waters.

William: Therefore… I made a move in order to prevent them from being attracted to you.

William: Just keeping things in control a little.

(...)

It wasn't only to satisfy my desires.

The kiss also contained Will’s desires.

That was enough to suffocate me with happiness.

Kate: … I’m so happy, Will.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

Like a reward, Will touched my sensitive spot with his impatient fingers.

Kate: Ahh, Will…

William: … Mm, also

Wiliam: I loved the way you lusted over me.

William: I only wanted to kiss you.

His words were sweeter than honey.

He planted kisses on my cheek, temple, and ear.

My head was overflowing with so much happiness, it felt like I was drunk on it.

Kate: Will… I…

William: … Hm?

Kate: If it’ll make you kiss me like that…

Kate: I think it's fine even if I never learn how to maintain a poker face…

William: … (surprised)

William: … Pfft, ahaha!

I muttered while feeling lightheaded from the amount of bliss I felt, and Will burst into laughter…

William: I also love how you look when you're following your desires.

He once again pressed his shapely lips against mine in a deep kiss.

This time, the kiss was not meant for anyone else to see—

It was filled with an addictive love.

[nightingale2004]

The Marauders next gen: Wolfstar version (Sirius x Remus)

Artemis Hope Lupin

Faceclaim: Diana Silver

Artemis is the firstborn daughter of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

Her middle name was the name Remus's late mother

Looks a bit like both her dads but takes after more of Sirius's looks and personality

She is fiercely protective of her family

Attends Hogwarts

Gryffindor through and through

Raging bisexual

Quidditch player (beater and chaser)

Inherited Sirius's love for pranks and loves brainstorming with the weasley twins

After Sirius got locked up to Azkaban, Artemis felt like she had to take care of everything, and everyone in her family and be the adult but still a great big sister

Loves going to music record stores and just loves music in general (more specifically, Rock n roll 🤟)

Her patronus is a husky dog

Her favorite subjects are flying, charms, DADA, care for magical creatures, muggle studies, and transfiguration

Doesn't know a lot about Sirius's side of the family other than what she was told and what she has found out about them (she is very nosy and has dug around for information about them)

Has an interest in auto mechanics and engineering

She wears Sirius's old leather jacket

Likes chocolate but prefers sour candy

She is also an animagus, and her form is a husky dog, similar to her patronus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caelum Alphard Lupin

Faceclaim: Felix Mallard

The second child and the first son of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

His middle name came from Sirius's late uncle, Alphard Black

Sirius and Remus got married a year after they graduated from Hogwarts and had their children shortly after

Caelum is more like Remus but takes after Sirius in looks

Caelum is considered quiet, distant, and intelligent. He also considers himself an artistic soul

If you were to ask Caelum, he'd say Artemis was the Sun, and he was the moon

When Sirius was sent to Azkaban, Caelum was only 1 year old, while Artemis was 4.

He vaguely remembered the Potters, but what he did remember was that both his dads loved them and that they would take Caelum and his sister over to the Potters all the time

He is sorted into Slytherin when the hat senses his determination, ambition, and cleverness. He was almost put into Gryffindor, but the hat changed its mind

He is on the quidditch team as a seeker but is not as passionate about it as his older sister

When he was sorted into Slytherin, his sister was worried for him along with their father, but Remus still loved his son but at the same time was afraid of what he would turn into in Slytherin

He is a major choco-holic (prefers dark chocolate)

His patronus is a raven

He also has an animagus form, which is a cat

He once snuck out to Grimmauld place out of curiosity of Sirius's side of the family. And he found out a LOT of information about the Blacks and his late Uncle Regulus and how similar he was to his uncle Regulus in some ways

☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆

Cerys Nova Lupin

Faceclaim: Bailey Bass

Cerys is the adopted daughter of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

They both adopted her a year before Sirius went to Azkaban, so Nova doesn't remember much of her other dad

Before she was adopted, she was born to a werewolf couple who were formerly a part of Fenrir Greyback's pack who gave her up for her safety

After Sirius went to Azkaban, Remus wasn't present as much, and Artemis took charge at a young age. Taking care of her younger siblings and her own father

She is literally the sweetest person you'll ever meet. A literal cinnamon roll that needs to be protected, but she can she won't hesitate to fight you if you speak badly about her family

Loyal to a fault

Loves gardening and sweets

Loves milk and white chocolate

Sorted into Hufflepuff

She is the second werewolf in her family, while her older siblings are full wizards.

She loves it when her siblings turn into their animagus form during full moons. It makes her feel less lonely

Sees Harry like an older brother.

Severus has a soft spot for this young wolf (how can you not?)

[floorpancakes]

hi yeah its me im thinking about this fucking scene again

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello how are you,

You said you follow a lot of series. What other series are you into? What series of manga do you have? And which series are you willing to experiment with?

I follow too many fandoms to count, from video games to books, manga, movies, and stuff in between to count them all. My newest series I've gotten into it Delicious in Dungeon, it's funny and well written, but I'm still new to that.

As far as the manga series I have:

-Record of Ragnarok

-Overlord

-My Hero Academia

-My Hero Academia: Vigilantes

-One Punch Man

-Komi Can't Communicate

-Tokyo Revengers

-Monster Musume

-Ancient Magus' Bride

-Let's Buy the Land and Cultivate it in Another World

-Hunting in Another World with my Elf Wife

-Flying Witch

-That Time I got Reincarnated into a Slime

-Demon Slayer

-XXX Holic

-XXX Holic Rei

-Cardcaptor Sakura

-Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card

-I've been Killing Slimes for 300 Years and Maxed out my Level

-I was a Bottom-Tier Bureaucrat for 1500 Years and the Demon King Made me a Minister

-A Centaur's Life

-Machimaho: I Messed up and MAde the Wrong Person into a Magical Girl

-The Alchemist who Survived Now Dreams of a Quiet City Life

-Spy X Family

-Plus Sized Elf

-Plus Sized Elf Second Helping

-The Titan's Bride

-I'm not a Succubus

-Nurse Hitomi's Monster Infirmary

-Sailor Moon

-Ah My Goddess

-Otherworldly Izakaya Nobu

-You Like Me, not my Daughter?

-My Room is a Dungeon Rest Stop

-Me and My Brothers

-Ouran High School Host Club

-My Love Story

-Honey So Sweet

-Magic Knights Rayearth

-Thigh High

-Wish (by Clamp)

-Eyeshield 21

-Who Says Warriors can't be Babes?

-Giant Spider and Me

-I Married my Best Friend to Shut my Parents Up

-Manly Appetites

-Our Dining Table

-Saki the Succubus

-Saber Marionette J

-Miyuki-Chan in Wonderland

-Satan's Secretary

-Shirahime-Syo (by Clamp)

-My Girlfriend is a T-Rex

-Chobits

-Cyborg 009

-Saiyuki

-Saiyuki Reloaded

-Magi

-Love Hina

-Negima!

-Negima?! Neo

-Suppose a Kid from the Last Dungeon Boonies moved to a Starter Town

-No Need for Tenchi

-Sorcerer Hunters

-3x3 Eyes

-Street Fighter II

-Sakura Ganbaru!

-Street Fighter Alpha

-Street Fighter III Ryu Final

-Hetalia!

-High School of the Dead

-My Dress Up Darling

-The Way of the Househusband

-The Masterful Cat is Depressed Again Today

-Yakuza's Guide to Babysitting

-Beauty and the Feast

-My Senpai is Annoying

-A Man and his Cat

-In the Land of Leadale

-Drugstore in Another World

-Farming Life in Another World

-Bofuri

-Savior's Book Cafe Story in Another World

-Magic Artisan Dahlia Wilts No More

-I'm a Behemoth, an S-Ranked Monster, but Mistaken for a Cat, I live as an Elf Girl's Pet

-Wood Woof Story I told you to Turn me into a Pampered Pooch, not Fenrir!

-Cutie and the Beast

-Ms. Kozumi Loves Ramen Noodles

-If It's for my Daughter, I'd even Defeat a Demon Lord

-Reborn as a Polar Bear: The Legend of how I became a Forest Guardian

-Restaurant to Another World

-So I'm a Spider, So What?

-Kaiju Girl Caramelize

-She Professed Herself Pupil of the Wise Man

-Kuma Kuma Kuma Bear

-I Shall Survive Using Potions

-Reincarnated as a Sword

This one took me a while lol, but I have been collecting my series for over 20 years now so I guess that's understandable.

[purichou]

Sweet Holic (スイートホリック) - [2006.04.12]

[baileypie-writes]

~Fine, I’ll Pay Attention to You~

Mayu Nekoyashiki + GN!Reader + Yuki Nekoyashiki

~~~🧵~~~🧵~~~🧵~~~

Fandom: Wonderful Precure!

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Platonic

Genre: Fluff, slice of life

Rating: PG

Synopsis: You felt as if Mayu’s cat, Yuki, didn’t like you very much. So Mayu invited you over to her house to bond with her.

Warnings: Yuki being sassy

Requested By: @the-broken-woman

~Masterlists~

~Wonderful Precure! Masterlist~

A/N ~ Whoopee! My first Wonderful Precure fanfic! Hope you enjoy it!

~~~🧵~~~🧵~~~🧵~~~

Before you even met your friend Mayu Nekoyashiki, you’ve seen her cat, Yuki. The pure white cat is always sunbathing outside of the Pretty Holic store. You always thought she was so pretty, especially when the light would reflect off her fur, making it look like she was glowing.

For a while, you never knew her name, so you just called her “Kitty”. She’d always ignore you until you’d try to pet her. The moment you got a foot too close, she’d hop off her little platform and scurry away. Sometimes, she’d even hiss at you. So you just assumed she didn’t like you. And from then on, you’ve never done more than say hello when passing her.

You had no clue that Yuki belonged to Mayu until after you became friends. She mentioned that Pretty Holic was her mother’s store, and you immediately asked afterwards if she knew the cat. Of course, that led to you finding out. That made things a bit awkward for you, because you knew that it would make hanging out at her place uncomfortable. So when Mayu had shyly invited you over, you weren’t sure if you should.

“Hmm… I don’t know…” You pondered nervously.

“What’s wrong? Do you need to ask your parents?” Mayu asked while blushing, embarrassed that she may have asked at the wrong time.

“Oh, no. That’s not it….” You said, chuckling a bit.

“When what it is? If you don’t want to come over, that’s okay…” She mumbled.

“Oh, I do! It’s just that…” You tried coming up with the best way to say it. “Yuki doesn’t like me very much, so it might be awkward.”

“Huh?” Mayu exclaimed, not expecting your answer.

“She always ignores me when I talk to her, and runs away when I get too close. She’s hissed at me a few times too.” You explained.

After you said that, Mayu started giggling. “What’s so funny?” You asked, confused.

After letting herself continue for a few moments, she cleared her throat. “That’s just how Yuki is. She always pretends she doesn’t want attention. I’m sure once she gets to know you, she’ll love you!”

“Really?” Your face lit up with hope.

“Yeah! She’s actually really sweet!”

“Okay! Then I guess I will come over!” And with that confirmation, your confidence was restored enough to walk home with her.

~~~~

As you got closer to the Pretty Holic building, you began to feel your heart rate picking up speed. You really hoped that you could earn Yuki’s trust. Though, if you couldn’t, you would still accept defeat. Even if it would shatter your heart into pieces.

“Looks like Yuki’s inside.” Mayu observed. Upon looking at said cat’s usual sunbathing spot, you confirmed that she was correct. You were a bit disappointed, as you wanted to get it over with quicker.

Mayu opened the front door for you, and you thanked her. After stepping inside, you admired the pretty products lining the shelves. “Mom, I’m home!” Mayu called out. A very beautiful woman waltzed into the room just a moment later.

“Welcome home, Mayu! Oh! I see you’ve brought a friend! Welcome Mx…..?”

“I’m (full name). It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Nekoyashiki!” You bowed.

“Aw, it’s nice to meet you too dear!” She chuckled.

“They’re here to meet Yuki. Well, they’ve kind of already met, but (name) wants to get to know her better.” Mayu explained.

“Oh, how lovely! Yuki’s such a cute kitty! Now, I have to go check on some stock in the back, so I’ll see you later!”

“Okay, bye Mom!” Mayu waved.

“Bye!” You did the same.

“Bye-bye! Nyan-nyan-nyan~.” Mrs. Nekoyashiki sang all the way out of the room. Once her notes were no longer heard, Mayu turned to you.

“Let’s go to my room. That’s probably where Yuki is.” She said. She was clearly becoming a bit shy at the mention of her room, which was to be expected.

“Okay!” You replied, and began following Mayu.

Once you arrived in her room, you took in your surroundings. Her bedroom was so stylish! The teals and mint greens were refreshing to look at. The shelves and drawers that made up stairs that led to a loft were so unique. You also took note of the old fashioned sewing machine in the corner. “Wow!” You exclaimed. “Your room is so cool!”

“Oh.” Mayu blushed bashfully. “Thank you.” While avoiding your gaze, her eyes focused on the white blob that rested on her bed. “Oh look, it’s Yuki!” She pointed, walking over to the cat.

Your head immediately turned upon hearing that. As she said, Yuki was lying on her bed. Mayu knelt down to her level, and wrapped her arms around her, stuffing her face in her soft fur. But Yuki payed her no mind. Her eyes were on you instead, squinting, and her ears were nearly completely vertical. That was a sign that she was not happy to see you. Once she noticed your gaze, her head snapped away from you. “I don’t think she’s excited that I’m here.” You chuckled nervously.

“Yuki…” Mayu whined to the cat. “(name) just wants to be friends.” Yuki let out a quick, sassy meow. It sounded like the cat equivalent of a scoff.

You laughed nervously, not sure what to do. Mayu pulled back from her cat, looking back and forth from her to you. She frowned thoughtfully, trying to come up with an idea. Then, she saw something lying next to your hand, which rested on her desk. “Hey (name),” she said, pointing to it. “maybe try that.”

“Hm?” A bit confused, you looked in the direction of her finger. It was a cat toy; a stick with a pom pom hanging from a string. “Oh! Okay.”

You grabbed the toy, clutching it near your chest. Slowly and carefully, you shuffled towards the feline. “Hey Yuki.” You greeted as calmly as you could. At that point, she still refused to look at you.

It wasn’t until the pom pom dangled above her, that her face changed from her intimidating glare. From seeing the soft ball swaying, her pupils dilated, and her tail started twirling. You knew this was a sign of playfulness.

Not saying a word, as to not break her focus, you began moving the stick. This caused the pom pom to sway even more. Yuki’s body scrunched up, her rear raising a bit in a pouncing position. You changed nothing about your actions, and just waited.

After a few moments, she shot up, swatting the pom pom furiously with her paw. A huge smile spread across your face. You looked to Mayu, who smiled excitedly as well. As Yuki continued to play, Mayu got out her phone, and began filming.

The game went on for a few minutes, before Yuki grabbed onto the pom pom with her claws, yanking the toy out of your hands completely. She lied back down, holding it between her paws. You and Mayu laughed, not minding the defeat at all.

You finally decided to take a risk, and try to pet her. Slowly, you reached your hand forward, aiming for her little head. Her eyes locked onto it, but it didn’t seem as if she was going to do anything. Your palm and fingers brushed against her white fur, and you tensed, expecting a hiss or scratch. But neither came.

As you moved your hand down from her head to her back, Yuki didn’t show any signs of bother. As your hand moved back up to her head yet again, it took you by surprise when she head butted it. You knew this meant she wanted more pets from you, so you happily obliged.

You never thought you’d ever be petting Yuki. But there you were, your touch being welcomed by her. You were overjoyed by the fact that she was finally paying attention to you, and that she didn’t despise you. You were so caught up in your adoration, that you didn’t notice the snapping sound of Mayu taking a picture of the two of you.

~~~🧵~~~🧵~~~🧵~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[monsterfloofs]

I was re-reading all your maestro fics again for the manyth time and was stuck on how hopeful and excited he was when he heard a knock on the door thinking it was reader for it only to be Angelo. And I was thinking (though it’s well after Valentine’s Day) what if reader knocked on his door and was planning to just leave him a valentine’s flower and card. They had given a card to everyone in the group though never a flower but their anonymous goes awry when he excitedly answers the door, Thanks.

Maestro (He/They Harpy) x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

(Ah gosh can I do this?? Can I do this??? I am going to plead with my brain to be able to write something, because I feel like I am really flounding creatively lately. 😭 I shall try my bestest.)

The room was filled with music. A lilting melody that highly contrasted the poised figure playing at the piano. Their brow furrowed, with a concentrated glare that could almost burn a hole into the sheet music they were reading. There was a slight misstep, causing a wrong note to call out, like throwing a rock into a serene pond. Feathers ruffle angrily and his chest rises up in a deep sigh of frustration.

Again.

Do it again.

The hands snap back to the beginning and the sweet melody starts over, glaring at the page of music. Nose wrinkling in something like disgust, the hand pauses at a particular stanza, thoughtful. Tinkering with a few notes before he gives a scoff and snatches an eraser from the shelf, scrubbing at the paper before drawing a new note. He replays the section, eyes fluttering closed and nodding to himself.

Better. It’s getting better.

Strange to think that it has been a year since he had been struggling with this one piece of music. It was a fault of his that they knew too well, perfectionism would be the death of them. Yet, the more they attempted to rush and finish the piece, the more it eluded him completely. He wanted for it to be perfect, but days and weeks and months of a busy schedule allowed him only so much time to work on it. Perhaps it was fruitless after all. His tense shoulders began to fall, slouching and glared at the paper. It has been a year, and much can change in that span of time.

—

It’s weird to think about how much can change in a year. You think to yourself, marching up the stairs into the concert hall. It’s the weekend, not only is it the weekend, but it’s a Sunday. No one would be here on a Sunday right? You think about Maestro, how much of a work-a-holic he is and frantically wave the thought away. You assure yourself and the nervous voice in your head. You. Yes you, the one who is screeching that we should be running for the hills.

Not even he, in all of his frightening glory, would be here. There was nothing to worry about. At least. . . .You hoped so.

You pressed an ID card to the door scanner and you heard a chime before you pushed your way inside of the building. The sound of your shoes on the floor was unnerving, it was quiet, too quiet. The kind of quiet that leaves you drowning in your thoughts.

Leave the card and goodies? Keep the card? Don’t sign the card and leave it anonymous. Perhaps running home and burying yourself out in the backyard would be best. No one would find your body there. You freeze, as the sound of music seeps from underneath his office.

He is here. Of course he is, why had you ever entertained the idea he wouldn’t be? You practically tiptoed up to the door, conscious of every step your feet made on the tiles. You stopped in front of his office door with it’s large square window. Staring at Jameson openly from the other side. You knew he was a composer, but you couldn’t recall hearing anything he wrote. Was he working on something now? You look down at the bag in your hand. Roses peeking out of the top and you could see pink card through the transparent plastic.

He is such a stoic and intense man, you would have thought he’d prefer more dramatic songs. You hesitate, if you leave the bag on the door handle like you intended, once he goes to leave the handle will twist and dump everything onto the floor. The card and chocolate would be fine to take a tumble, but the roses. You dither, wondering if you set the bag on the floor, would he see it?

You begin to notice the silence in the room stretching on. Where was the piano? You slowly raise your head up to stare. Maestro was now also openly staring back at you. He typically smooth feathers where fluffed out and sticking up in funny places like he had just been a victim of static electricity.

The staring contest lasted longer than you had hoped for. Knees weak, you begin to sink. Your face in wide eyed terror as you slowly settle into a crouch, your saucer eyes the last thing to disappear from the view of the window.

What are you doing? Run you fool, run! Yet instead, you stay crouched in front of the door, staring at the crack between the polished wood and floor. Hoping beyond hope he would just ignore what he just saw. Heck, maybe he would think he hallucinated it! You hear a soft knocking from above and you look up to see Maestro staring down at you through the window.

“What are you doing?” He mouths at you, a look of concern and considerable confusion plastered on his face.

“I don’t know!” You managed to mouth back, your voice a whisper. Scrambling away from the door as the handle begins to turn. Maestro runs his hands through his feathered mane.

“It’s. . . “ He began then frowns.

“The weekend? Yeah.” You bounce on the heels of your feet before taking a deep breath and holding out the bag to him. Oh now he’s really looking like he got struck by lightning or something.

“Here,” Your voice tumbling over itself in a rush. “I know Valentine’s Day was days ago, but I just wanted to give you these and say thanks for working with all of us.”

He stared at the bag as if it would try and reach out and bit him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah! So uh– I’ll be on my way, I’msorrytodisturb.” Your words speeding up even faster as he puts a hand to his face.

“Did you. . . hear the song?”

The question had you taking in a gulp of air, so ready to continue on with the panicked apologized until your brain caught up to you.

“Song?” You echoed, “The song you were playing on the piano?”

He wiped his hand down his face, then squinted, staring promptly at a spot just behind your shoulder. “Yes,” He began slowly, “What did you. . . think of it?” You blink a couple of times to make sure you heard him right. He was asking you about the music?

“It, was lovely.” You admitted, treading slowly and carefully into your answer. “Did you write it?”

He hesitates before finally taking the bag from you, his hand lingering against yours longer than necessary. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his feathers again. Determined to smooth down the unruly plumage.

“Indeed.” He beckons to you, holding the door open. “Why. . . Why don’t you come in? I am sure it would sound better without any obstacles to block the music.”

You shuffled your feet before following him inside. Noticing a wilted bouquet of roses on the top of the piano. Even though the flowers were drooping, there was still an unmistakable sunshine orange. Just like the roses that were in the bag hanging from Maestro’s clawed hand.

You remember the website you had poured over when you were at the store. Red was for love, orange was for a crush, yellow for friendship, and pink was for appreciation. You had almost settled on pink, but then at the last second the orange ones caught your eye. You wondered, if someone else had been charmed by the brooding musician. Maestro glances at you, before gently lifting out the wilted flowers and replacing them into the water. He doesn’t look at the rest of the contents in the bag, setting them down on top of his desk before he takes a seat in front of the piano.

The music was gorgeous from what you had heard from outside, but being in the room and letting the notes hum around you. You closed your eyes, and listened, the casade of sound pulling on your heartstrings. “It’s beautiful,” You murmur out loud. You hadn’t expected that he would be able to hear you. Yet his voice replied. “Ah, good. Then I was able to convey it properly. . . It’s for you, you know."