#they might not have been able to have done a better job y'know. and god knows people were assblasted about bridget being trans

[gothghostiie]

mmm older!boyfriend/husband price and cock/ball worship me thinks…

would love a little drabble, throw some musk kink in there if you don’t mind

-your favorite price obsessed musk kink anon (missed you ghostie<3)

aaa u get me pookie!! (missed u too<3) also I read that as cock and ball torture first and I'm sad but also so excited

cw: older bf!price/implied age gap, cock n ball worship, musk kink, tiny bit of manhandling, hair pulling, gn!reader

thinking about you being horny and trying to get it on with him after a long day at work - but he just can't throw the heat tonight. despite always wanting to get his hands all over you he tells you not today, he doesn't wanna half ass fucking you, thats simply not his style. but you keep pawing at him, trying to feel him up and get into his pants, relentless in your tries. he tolerates it and even humours you a little - until he's had enough. suddenly a calloused hand grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close to him, faces just inches apart. "never listen to me, do you love?" his voice is rough and low, a bit condescending. he shakes his head as you just glance up at him, wide eyed and suddenly all shy. "wanted my cock so bad, don't you?" he croons. "fine. you'll get it."

before you even realise it youre pushed between his strong thighs, finding yourself kneeling on the ground. he lets go of your neck briefly to open his belt, you eye his hands; he grabs your attention with a quick whistle. "eyes up here." he orders and you comply, making eye contact as he frees his semi from behind his underwear, pulling down his jeans just enough for you to have access to his heavy balls too. he grabs your hair and leans down, to make sure you're being good and listening to him, even with the distraction at hand.

"you listen to me now, yea? you've been begging for my cock for the past hour, nows your chance. this is all you'll get little one, so you better make sure to do it well, yea?" all you can do is nod as his low tone makes you all fuzzy, you'd do anything this man tells you as long as he's murmuring it like that. he leans back in the couch, in the same movement pushing your face to his cock, your senses immediately overloaded with his smell. even though he showered after work, he never quite gets rid of it - and god you'd grieve the day he manges to. immediately you press your face in there, right where his cock and balls meet, taking a deep breath - he chuckles softly, you're not as slick about it as you'd like - before finally starting to kiss and lick at him. he leans his head back, the grip on your hair loosening and turning into rubbing your head gently as you work your lips all over him. he can tell you're getting into it, how greedy you are, how much you wish you could be able to bounce on him right then and there; but you know better than to talk back to him. he groans in relaxation as he feels your slightly swollen lips wrap around his balls, sucking softly while your hand works his cock, squeezing the tip slightly.

"good job.. just like that, y'know how it's done." he praises gently, breathing getting heavier as you practically worship his cock with how eager you are. the way you look at it alone could make him cum in a heartbeat, you have that little look of fascination and desperation written all over your pretty face - makes him wanna cum all over it. and he just might with how well you're doing, you know what he likes, his favourite techniques and most sensitive spots by now. you press the side of your face against his abdomen, curly pubes tickling your skin while you lick and suckle the base, one hand working his cock relentlessly while the other is cupping his balls. you can smell the day on him, almost making you want to press your face into him more - but he's a step ahead of you. hand suddenly snakes around your head to cup the side of your jaw roughly, pressing your face into his soft flesh further.

"jus' like that.. jesus christ darlin', you're gonna drive me fuckin' insane.." he mutters and you can tell he's getting close. you look up at him with those big doe eyes he loves seeing and he's a goner, done for. grunts loudly, the grip on your jaw tightens, making your skin turn white; just mere seconds later he cums all over his ridden up shirt and even your face. He's breathing heavily as you slow your movements down and instead go to lick his cock nice and clean, his cum still on the side of your face. he gazes down at you through lidded eyes, shaking his head.

"gonna be the death of me, love.."

[apathetic-revenant]

uh...hi?

[head pokes around corner]

so...

I've been back to scrolling around on tumblr for a bit now, and have been really wanting to get back to actually, y'know. being here. posting. not just sort of hanging here invisibly like a mournful ghost, observing but never interacting. that sort of thing. (revenants, after all, are supposed to be corporeal undead.)

but I really wanted to explain why I just kind of abruptly vanished in the first place. no one demanded this of me, but it felt like something I had to do. and then, in the typical way of self-imposed obstacles, it became a massive stumbling block. partly because of the nerves and emotions attached to it, sure, but mostly, tbh, because it was a Task. I recently (about 3 weeks ago now?) started seeing a new psychiatrist and got an adjustment to my ADHD meds which basically made my brain boot up again for the first time in way too long. this is great! but it means I am having to kind of slowly rehab my brain into getting used to doing Literally Anything again, one small step at a time. I am not being hyperbolic when I say I had to gradually build up my executive functioning for a while just to be able to write a tumblr post.

but fuck it! I really wanted to just do this already. so, while I'm sure I'll talk about all this in more detail later, for right now I'm gonna strip this down to the bare essentials just so I can get it done at all.

here's what happened:

in 2020 I had a sudden onset of extremely severe OCD.

no, not about the pandemic, actually. yeah I was anxious about the pandemic but it was a pretty normal level of anxiety for a global pandemic, honestly. my OCD took the form of scrupulosity--essentially, an obsessive worry about being a bad person.

tumblr is....not a GREAT place to be if you have a sudden obsessive fear of being a bad person.

now, to be clear: tumblr did not CAUSE my OCD, and leaving tumblr did not cure it. that's just not how OCD works. later on, I learned that atypical antipsychotics--one of which I had been prescribed around that time, for depression--have been known to cause OCD. is there any way to prove that that's what happened? probably not, at this point! so I've just been kind of sitting with that terrible knowledge for a while.

anyway. I would've had OCD anyway, but reading a regular stream of posts going "hey, here's a really terrible thing you might be doing! you might even be doing it without knowing it! you need to think really hard and be constantly vigilant all the time for any sign that you might be doing this thing!" was basically pouring gasoline on the fire.

I never made an active decision to leave tumblr--if I had I would've said something first. I just kind of thought "god, I can't do this right now" one day and didn't open the app, which turned into days and then weeks and then months, and still things weren't getting better.

it's hard to express exactly how harrowing that whole experience was. actually I just started thinking about it and realized I would never finish this post tonight if I tried to get into it just now. so I won't. let's just say: It Was Bad.

but, by an astronomical stroke of luck, I ended up getting referred to not just an OCD therapist, not just the only OCD therapist in the state who took Medicaid, but the only OCD therapist in the state who took Medicaid and also she was really good at her job. I genuinely think that woman saved my life.

OCD therapy is one of those "the only way out is through" kind of things. it's brutal and also quite surreal, but it has a high success rate and is very effective. OCD is not a thing that you can cure, per se, but it went from completely dominating every waking moment of my life to being something that I occasionally have to yell at in much the same way as when the cat starts knocking things off my desk at 3 in the morning.

but, the thing was, it took a year-and-a-bit before my therapist and I agreed that I had probably "graduated" as she put it. so, by the time I felt able to go back on tumblr without my brain catching on fire again, it had been so long that I didn't know how to do it. I felt like I'd pulled a major dick move by just dropping off without saying anything. I still thought about it (usually late at night, at Time To Think About Every Regret I've Ever Had O'Clock) but my brain very easily goes to a place of "well, no one would really notice or care that I was gone, and if they did they'd be mad at me for having left."

well. earlier this year I started on the road to getting past that idea. shoutout to @fordtato for helping with that, btw.

but it took me a while to work up the courage and then, as previously mentioned, even longer to work up the neurotransmitters.

I think I gotta wrap this up for now cause I don't have much concentration juice left. but, for what it's worth: I had a lot of emotions, coming back and seeing the names of people I used to talk to all the time. I don't know how you feel about me anymore, but I really missed yall. I would like to talk to you again.

[theminecraftbee]

About your Joe joke-that-isn't-really: One, I love it. And two...that absolutely leaves a very large possibility that maybe Joe isn't exactly the only Hermitcraft admin who isn't too traumatized to do the job? Maybe he's just the only one who was able to successfully combine his realization that there was no one else left with his comparative non-crisis'd-ness fast enough to craft something resembling a functioning braincell out of it? And if he acknowledges that he's sort of running on duct tape and a prayer right now after having to tell his best friend to leave him behind knowing if he didn't tell her she would have left him anyway and that would have hurt so much more and then spiralling off into the ether between worlds for two months he might lose focus of the practical side of what needs to be done around here for long enough that he just completely -

- and they can't have that, right, which is why he isn't thinking about any of that. The, you know, things he doesn't have to think about. Because thankfully he's the least traumatized Hermitcraft admin! So he doesn't have to think about all the terrifying and terrible things that just happened, being Certified Non Traumatized and all. Yup! He got off easy. And there's work to be done. And he can do it. Will do it. Yep. That's how this works now. He's Got This. :)

(context)

man. yeah, see, i say "relatively non-traumatized" but, y'know. you're very right. he's the one who got left behind; he made his own way out after willingly (unwillingly) parting with his best friend. telling her to leave him behind. and now, here he is! he's doing what must be done, because no one else will do it.

see, that's the thing about him, he thinks. he's good at doing things when no one else can or will. he's good at planning for being the only one who can do things. and xisuma may insist he's fine, but he's, like, really not? the most joe can ask is for the man to seed the world, and not to help with tasks like: finding and re-whitelisting an painfully long list of missing names.

he checks them off, one by one, after his own arrival. (he, well, he showed up on his own. just like cleo said, just like he told her - he always does.) a list of names. a list of last known locations. a list of ways to drag them back onto the whitelist from wherever else they'd been scattered. normally its easy; normally they all go together.

later, he tells cleo that it was like holding the manifest of a ship after it had sank, trying to check off who had been aboard.

but in the moment -

he's asked if he can really do it on his own, and he's joe hills. he's good at doing things when no one else can or will.

he says he's fine. he's better off than everyone else. really, he is! he got off easy, and he doesn't have to think about much else other than everyone on this piece of paper that didn't, and how soon he can pass off the reigns to someone who's less likely to accidentally replace the entire world with stone while trying to make a pretty circle or something. you know, the kind of hermit who won't accidentally use god-like power? haha, isn't it silly that the commands are what he's stressed about? he's fine!

(and the other thing he knows is this: everyone's too tired themselves to call him out on the lie. he appreciates that.)

[pain-suffering-even]

y'all. y'all its been. SO LONG.

i pinky promise i'm working on things behind the scenes... still just as in love with solo leveling as i was.

what EXACTLY am i working on? well, i wish i could say it was fics, but...

head canons! and also fic plots!

i'm working on head canons for:

the entire draw sword guild (don't ask why. i've been obsessed with them for some reason. really really mad that they didn't get more characterization in the manhwa. just know that all of 'em are my blorbos at the moment)

the american S rankers (thomas andre and christopher reed, as well as laura, even though she's a human, i think)

that one german S ranker (lennart niermann... god i love him)

the korean S rankers (jongin and yoonho specifically, but jinwoo, haein, byungyu, taegyu, and jinchul, even though he's technically A rank)

and liu zhigang (been having trouble with thinking of things for him, though... so no promises)

if your blorbo from solo leveling isn't on this list, honestly feel free to drop your own head canons into my ask box or just straight up DM me. there's sooo many characters in solo leveling that deserve to be thought out, and i like the idea of some of y'all helping me flesh out these characters (even if its ooc!!! if it makes you feel better... all of the head canons i've created are very ooc :') so don't feel bad about it!)

i've redone the way i format headcanons to be a little... easier to read. especially because i write these on a google doc before posting, and it was getting too chunky to filter through. so hopefully they will look nice as well!

now for the fic plots:

um... i might drop proximity and andromeda :') i didn't want to but... i just don't know how to continue either of those stories. i've kinda backed myself into a corner in proximity by throwing too many things in at once. and andromeda... i've straight up forgotten where i wanted to take it. i will say, a long ass time ago i wrote out the ending for andromeda because it was stuck in my mind for forever and i needed to get it out... might post it, if only to give you guys some closure or idea as to where i wanted to take the story? but that also depends if i go back, read it, and its not as good as i thought so no promises.

i may or may not post... some of the one-shots/drabbles i've created, if only to feed this fandom a little bit more. i'll probably get around to that soon after making this post, honestly, because the amount of free writing i do and it accidentally leads back to solo leveling... its enough to post a sizeable drabble collection lmao.

there's other fics behind the scenes! are they being written? course not! but i might throw out some plot ideas like i've done with the flower shop/tattoo parlor AU and the arsonist AU. because i have the plot itself just not the written fic, y'know? and now that i've started school again and have a part time job... probably wont be able to put as much effort into writing as i would like.

anyway. this got rambly. long story short: don't expect any fic updates (sorry), DO expect a one-shot/drabble collection to be posted, and maaaybe expect some plot and AU ideas to be posted as well. plus the new headcanons and their formats, of course.

um... that's all, i think. hope you guys are well :) and just know that even though i post sporadically, my obsession with solo leveling is still going strong!!! too strong, maybe

[spooky-mister]

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Hey!

So I am definitely continuing I Am A God when I have the time, but for now, have a tooth-rotting Spiralshipping fic <3

This fic is set the morning after Zeke was supposed to meet his dad for takeout/Will claimed to be sleep training his son.

Also this is my first time writing for these characters so be nice :)

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One Of The Good Ones

Fandom: Spiral from the Book of Saw

Paring: William Schenk x Ezekiel Banks

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 1,545

Potential Triggers: None I'm aware of. Feel free to comment <3

Spoilers?: Yes

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One Of The Good Ones

What happened to dinner with his dad?

William Schenk slowed his steps to a stop as he gazed into the meeting room, appreciating the sight of Ezekiel Banks asleep on his work with a soft smirk of amusement. It was a good thing he was the first in. Zeke's fellow cops didn't seem like the sort to let him get away with sleeping on the job - even if they weren't worth half of Zeke's integrity and dedication. Will sniffed, glancing over his shoulder before slinging a large flask of coffee under his arm and meandering over to the table. He shuffled to a stop beside Zeke's sleeping form before huffing a laugh and tapping the detective's shoulder.

"Hey, Banks," He mumbled, voice gruff with fading sleep. His schedule didn't leave much room for rest. "Wake up, partner."

Zeke reacted with a near comedic intensity, dragging an audible laugh from Will as the rookie took a step back. Zeke cried out and thrashed his arms, soon setting his eyes up on Will with a mix of relief and embarrassment.

"Shit, Man - don't do that!" Zeke scolded, running his fingers through his rough hair. "Never wake a man while he's sleeping! Jeez…"

"Yeah, well… Better me than Fitch," Will retorted in good humour, hesitating before setting himself down next to Zeke. "Are you okay? What happened to dinner with your dad?"

"Old man cancelled on me," Zeke explained as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. He looked exhausted, Will noticed. How long had he been sleeping? “Came back in to work the case. Must have gotten too comfortable."

“You could have called,” Will offered with a frown, setting down his flask and letting his bag slide off of his shoulder. “We could have worked the case together.”

“What about sleep training?” Zeke muttered in response, eyes drifting to Will. Will paused at that. Right. His… Family. He didn’t have time to retort before Zeke spoke again. “You worked hard yesterday - you deserved a night off. Enjoy your family while they last.”

“You’re just a beacon of romance and optimism, aren’t you,” Will teased, appreciating the glimmer of a smirk received in return. “Well… Thanks. Did you at least get to eat last night?” Zeke’s hesitation didn’t seem to bode well for Will’s throw-away concern. Will arched a thick brow. "...Zeke?"

"I was gonna order something in," Zeke reasoned. "I left the takeout my dad ordered at his place so he had somethin' when he got back. But then I guess I-"

"Fell asleep," Will finished for him, taking in the sigh and the nod as Zeke started shuffling through papers again. Will was feeling oddly involved in this minor inconvenience. Why did he feel so compelled to take the mantle of caretaker? Zeke was an adult. Older than him, even. But Will felt the draw to guard and care for his partner as a skilled gardener would cultivate a flower they planned to pluck. "Well, that's no good. How are you supposed to lead an investigation on an empty stomach?"

"Jeez, mom - I don't know," Zeke huffed a laugh, looking Will over. "What's got in your head all of a sudden - I can take care of myself." Clearly. "If you hold the fort, I'll run out 'n grab a… Coffee and grilled cheese or somethin'."

"No need," Will sighed as he hiked his satchel up onto his lap. He could see Zeke's puzzled expression as he rifled through before drawing a plastic tupperware - still beaded with hot steam. He hadn't been able to let it cool before leaving for work. He sniffed and set it in front of Zeke with a fork and his tall flask. "...Homemade frittata," He explained with a gesture of his hand towards the box. He smirked at Zeke's baffled expression. "I made it for me, but… Y'know, I actually ate last night."

"...Nah," Zeke shook his head, pushing the food back towards Will. "I ain't eating your breakfast, Schenk. I-" He paused when Will put a firm hand on the tupperware, locking eyes as the younger detective slowly slid it back in front of him. He bit his tongue before letting out a sigh and popping the lid off of the plastic. "Thanks," He muttered, taking hold of the fork and poking around the fried egg and vegetables.

Will watched Zeke's apprehension with muted amusement for a moment before speaking up. "It's egg," He explained. "Egg, cheese, spinach, garlic… It's nothing bad, Zeke. I'm not trying to trick you." He got a kick out of the look of minor embarrassment on Zeke's face, chuckling.

"I didn't…" Zeke went to defend himself before sighing and scooping a large piece of frittata onto his fork. "Thanks, Schenk." He shovelled it into his mouth, chewing it with a hum.

"Will, please," Will reasoned, watching the detective's changing expression with a growing smirk. The 'Mmm' sealed the deal as Zeke wiped his mouth with a hand and reached for the flask. "Good?"

"Shit, man - that's… You made that?" Zeke raised his eyebrows and pointed at the frittata. He was baffled at Will's confirmation. "Jeez… You really are the full package, huh? Your wife must love you."

"Yeah… Maybe," Will mused with a smile, admiring Zeke as the man ate. Part of him wondered why he'd even developed that lie… It just created one more barrier between himself and Zeke. But he couldn't go back on it now. "Maybe I can cook for you again sometime."

Zeke hummed in agreement, slurping down the breakfast with only half a mind on his manners. "Haven't had many homemade meals since mom left," Zeke explained between mouthfuls, sensing Will's sudden tension. "Knew the number for the pizza place before I was potty trained."

"Just… You and your dad as well, huh?" Will mumbled, watching Zeke closely. "Yeah… I know how that is. But my dad wasn't… Around much by the time I got to middle school - I learned to take care of myself." Was that giving away too much about himself? No… If anything, it was pulling Zeke closer. He could tell by the familiar concern in the detective's eyes.

Zeke floundered for a response for a moment. He was never good at conversations like this. The feelings were difficult to process… So instead he turned his attention back to his meal. He scooped up a forkful and switched his gaze to Will. "You wanna share?" He asked, an attempt to change the subject. "Today will be pretty intense… You wanna get fuelled up."

Will moved to hesitate, but… this was a moment of tenderness. Of sincerity. He could tell this was Zeke’s way of letting his guard down, so he smiled. "Sure," He agreed, leaning towards the fork. Zeke seemed taken aback by the movement, clearly expecting Will to take the fork, but he quickly adjusted - moving the fork to Will's mouth and watching the young detective take it into his mouth. It was weirdly intimate… Or maybe it had just been a while.

Will pulled off of the fork and knitted his brows, chewing through the mouthful of warm eggs. He shrugged slightly and reached for his flask to wash it down. "I've made better," He commented before flooding the taste out with coffee. He tried not to focus on Zeke’s scoff.

"Made better, huh?" Zeke muttered, turning his gaze away from Will and digging his fork into the tub. "Might have to prove that one, man - this is pretty fuckin' good…"

Will perked up at that and smirked. "...Are you inviting yourself round for breakfast, Detective Banks?" Will teased, biting back a laugh as he watched Zeke's face drop. He let Zeke fight for a retort for a moment before shaking his head. "I know what you meant." Will was just indulging in a little wishful thinking.

Zeke cleared his throat, pushing around the rest of his breakfast with a fork before offering it back towards Will. "Uh… Thanks, Schenk. I needed that." He offered before getting to his feet. He could feel a growing, undefined tension between them… And he wasn't a fan.

"Will… please," Will corrected, licking his lips as he watched Zeke readying himself to leave - probably to get his own cup of coffee. But… Will didn't want him to leave. He swallowed dryly, leaving Zeke to gather up his jacket and step away from the desk before quickly reaching for the man's wrist. He met Zeke's puzzled expression with apprehension. He… Wasn't completely sure why he'd done that. "I'm… Glad you enjoyed the frittata. Sorry." He moved to pull his hand away.

Zeke smirked, chuckling softly and reaching to playfully ruffle his young partner's hair. "Man, don't say sorry…" He hesitated before leaning over and delicately pressing a kiss to Will's head. "You're one of the good ones, Will… Now get to work."

Will bubbled into giggles as Zeke gently batted the back of his head on his way out, unable to stop the colour in his cheeks or the grin on his lips. Shit - did Zeke really just… He felt like a giddy school girl. And as he glanced back to watch Zeke leave, he could have sworn that he saw a smile to match his own on the senior detective's face.

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[uweiy]

The Mark/Ouwen Sickfic no one asked for pt. 4

(aka Not an Exact Science on ao3)

pt. 1/pt.2/pt. 3

"I kissed Ouwen." Mark tells Hsuan Yu over coffee.

Hsuan Yu is still mixing his own cup, facing away from Mark

"Hmm."

"And it was nice. Really really nice." Mark adds.

"That's great Mark."

Mark simply observes, and catches the exact moment his words arrive at Hsuan Yu's brain.

"Wait. Waaaaaaiiiiiit."

Hsuan turns his upper body towards Mark.

"Dai Ouwen ? You– ?"

"Mh mmhh."

A beat.

"Huh. I guess that makes sense."

Mark frowns.

"What do you mean it makes sense ?? Nothing makes sense."

Hsuan Yu looks at him like he's trying to figure out exactly what Mark is missing.

Mark had hoped Hsuan Yu could enlighten him, but clearly he hadn't understood the depth of the situation, so Mark was not the one missing something.

"He is a great person." Huan Yu simply says.

"Right." Whatever Mark had planned to say, that he has to agree with first. "He's always so cool and calm and dependable. And he tries to pretend like he's not nice but he's really nice. Let me tell you, he has such a soft side to him, I have never seen him refuse anyone anything."

He thinks a bit.

"I don't want him to get taken advantage of because of that. Like what happened with his ex ya know ?'

Huan Yu just nods, a sly smile making its way into his face "Mmhmh." Mark doesn't like it.

"What."

Hsuan Yu settles on the counter, bringing his face closer to Mark's so as to look at him straight into the eyes. His gaze makes Mark uncomfortable and he shifts in his seat.

"What."

"You. Like. him." Hsuan Yu enunciates.

"Ayyy ?? No way." Mark frowns, retreating proportionately to Hsuan Yu's forward movement.

"Seriously." Hsuan Yu starts counting on his fingers.

"1. You want his attention. All the time. Seriously I never see you around as much as when he is here. 2. You want to take care of him. You just said so." He adds when Mark opens his mouth to protest.

"3. You get jealous."

"Jealous ?? I don't get jealous."

"Imagine someone else asks him out. You would be totally fine with it ?"

"Of course." Mark shrugs. "As long as it's not an asshole like his ex. But hey Ouwen would still hang out with me right ? And he has to find someone that makes him eat his vitamins. Oh and did I mention, not an asshole like his ex ? But good men are hard to find... Actually maybe he shouldn't date, it's safer that way."

He nods at his own wise words.

Hsuan Yu looks at him in awe but also like he's questioning what the fuck he's seeing. He gestures with his hands.

"Okay but suppose he does. Would you be totally okay with him kissing someone else ?"

Mark tries to picture it. Ouwen kissing someone, that is not him.

"They shouldn't do it in front of me.' he says finally

"Why ?"

"I don't like it."

"Why ?"

"Because... Because..." He struggles to find an explanation. Two men kissing is weird right ?? Definitely weird.

Why then was it that he didn't mind one bit when it was him kissing Ouwen. Why was it that he had wanted to keep doing it ? Why was it that when he tried to picture Ouwen with someone he very badly wanted the person at Ouwen's side to be hi–'

"Oh."

Huan Yu snaps his fingers at Mark "Aaaaand there we have it."

He gets up and clasps Mark on the shoulder as he walks past him." You'll have to excuse me, I have some clients to take care of. But–" He says into Mark's ear "–seems like you, my friend, have some thinking to do."

And leaves a pretty dumbfounded Mark behind.

___

Ouwen sits up slowly, looking away from Mark so as to conceal his eyes which are frantically darting from side to side.

What. What. What what what–

For all the thinking that he does. He hadn't envisioned that. At all.

His heart is now beating way too loudly and he feels a complicated mix of emotions rising, among which something that resembles hope.

It could be a joke. But Mark is not that cruel.

The only option left was that Mark truly believed that–

I think I like you.

Ah.

Ouwen remembers then, that it's Mark. and suddenly his stomach weighs a thousand pounds.

"Ouwen ?" Mark says from behind him.

Ouwen tries gather his thoughts. He turns towards Mark and smiles sadly.

"I'm flattered." Ouwen hears himself say, and it sounds wrong, even to his own ears. "but maybe you would like to think about it again ?

"It's something that is quite common among our clients, actually. It's easy to have a passing infatuation with someone that is both new in your life, and you consistently encounter. However, objectively, we are very different people. You can understand how this doesn't give a solid basis for a relationship. Ehm. If that is. What you want."

Briefly lost himself there. And pulls himself together. He can do this. It's his job after all.

"A few weeks ago you were I quote 'obsessed' with Joanna. And before Joanna, it was someone else. One of the reasons for that could be that you are still unsure of searching what you are looking for in a partner ?

"In any case, you're probably going to change your mind in a few weeks–"

Because if when he changes his mind, Mark would be able to just go on with his life while Ouwen's heart would shatter in a million pieces and he'd be left alone to pick them up. Ouwen would like to spare himself some trauma thank you very much and just wait for whatever Mark thinks he feels to go away.

"–And I don't want it to be awkward between us when you do." That would suck, for lack of a better term.

Mark listens with wide eyes a and slightly bewildered expression as he seems to take in what Ouwen is saying.

So Ouwen adds, as gently as he possibly can, even if he doesn't really want to, even if it twists some part of his gut

"You're. You are special to me so, we can just pretend this never happened. I would really like for us to keep being friends."

Mark's brow furrow lightly and he lowers his eyes. Ouwen thinks he might have gotten through to him when Marks looks up at Ouwen again.

"You didn't say you didn't like me."

Ouwen huffs in frustration. "Did you hear what I just said ? That's not what it is about. And whether I like you or not has only little to do with the situation."

"Of course it does ! If you don't like me... I learned my lesson you know. There's nothing I can do."

He looks somewhat like a kicked puppy and Ouwen has to resist the overwhelming urge to comfort him.

"But if you do like me at least a little, I'll definitely make you give me a chance."

Suddenly Ouwen doesn't know what to say anymore.

"How sure are you ?" He asks before he can stop himself.

"Eh ?"

"That you like me. You said you 'think' you like me. I can't... I can't.... if you're not sure."

"Oh come on." Mark whines. "It just sounded less pathetic than 'I really like you and I really don't know what I'm going to do if you don't like me back'. Do you know how hard that was to say by the way ? 'Flattered' this, 'Passing infatuation' that. I know I date easily, but I haven't told anyone that before."

Ouwen does feel a bit like an asshole then.

"You haven't ?"

"Except maybe one girl in like second grade but that doesn't count. Anyway, haven't said it to anyone, y'know, seriously. I–" He pauses. blushes. Then seems to come to a decision.

"I had never fallen for a man before so maybe that's why I didn't– Or maybe I had but y'know... couldn't accept it or whatever. Hsuan Yu helped and yeah...well. In any case, I'm glad it's you." He runs his hand through his hair.

"Whatever, what I'm trying to say is... Yeah I'm sure."

Even though Ouwen has had a bit of trouble following the jumble of Mark's sentences, he said the latter part with a certainty that leaves Ouwen speechless.

Mark presses. "So, just tell me. Do you like me or not ?"

Ouwen can tell for sure that it's sincere. Mark likes him, and he's fine with it. Even comfortable with it, in a way Ouwen would not have thought possible.

"Dai Ouwen. If you're asking, that means you do right ? I think you do."

Finally, it bursts out of Ouwen.

"Yes. Yes okay ?? I like you. "

"Really ??"

"I just said so didn't I." Ouwen sighs. "You can stop asking now." Mark laid his heart open on the table there. Ouwen figures the least he can do is be honest.

Mark exhales

"Oh thank god."

And kisses him. He withdraws pretty quickly.

It's not much of a kiss, compared to the one they've shared before. Just a brief press of lips, as if to reassure himself, to make it tangible. Ouwen's stomach still does a backflip.

"We can figure out the rest together, right ?"

Mark sounds hopeful and bit cautious and when has Ouwen ever been able to refuse him anything ?

"Okay."

He must be crazy. This makes no sense. This is not safe, unpredictable and definitely not a match that their company would have suggested. He's not sure he wants to know what their compatibility tests would say but frankly, in that precise moment, he doesn't care.

"I really, really want to kiss you again right now." Mark says, still looking a bit dazed. He didn't move out of Ouwen's space, hovering inches away from Ouwen's lips.

Ouwen half heartedly tries to push him away

"I'm still sick."

Mark barely seems to register it.

"Eh. At worst I'll take a sick leave too." He answers absent mindedly before he moves forward and just like last time they instantly click– and Ouwen's mind goes blank. His fingers curl on Mark's biceps.

Mark pushes further into him until he has him lying on the couch, and all further protests –and reservations and doubts Ouwen might have had– just scatter away.

Maybe this is not such a terrible decision afterall.

___

"Mark" Ouwen hums against Mark's clavicle, as they are both comfortably sprawled on the couch, one of Mark's hands running up and down Ouwen's back.

"Mmh ?"

"Thank you."

"Eh ? What for ?"

"Just... For being there. And for the soup."

"Ah, it's nothing."

Mark thinks for a bit "You know I didn't do it just so would agree to date me right ? I just wanted you to get well."

"I know, I know." Ouwen quickly assures him. Mark really just is that kind of person. He probably would have done the same for like, Hsuan Yu. "Do you have the recipe ?"

"Oh... You know it's just... chicken... Some onions... Whatever, making soup is not an exact science. If it's nice that's what counts right ?"

Ouwen blinks. He might be stretching but somehow Mark's words hit a deeper topic than just... soup.

Ouwen smiles, feeling a lot lighter. "Who knows. Maybe you're right."

Mark looks at him quizzically.

"That is one uncharacteristic answer? Anyway, Just ask me when you want some I'll make another one for you."

"Wow. You really just winged it."

"Yep."

Mark is silent for a few seconds. Then he says, quietly.

"It is what I want, by the way."

"What ?"

"A relationship."

Ouwen props his chin up and smiles. His cheeks will hurt if he keeps smiling like this but he can't help it.

"Okay."

Then after a few seconds. "Still. Give me a recipe for the soup. What if we break up ?"

"Dai Ouwen. You finally agreed to be with me and you're talking about a break up already ?" Ouwen hears how whiny Mark's voice is and can't help but chuckle. Messing with Mark is guaranteed to work.

Ouwen nuzzles against Mark's neck again. "Mhh. You never know."

Marks hand is still stroking his back.

"Nonsense. Just go to sleep."

Ouwen does.

___

Previous/Epilogue

A.N : IDK why writing this was so hard. I tried to finish and wrap up nicely all the insecurities that came up in previous parts and such... And maybe it makes more sense with the little changes I made/I added on ao3, though I tried to make it so it tied nicely with the versions here as well. And for some reason Mark and Ouwen's inner voices are really hard to find for me. Anyway, there will be a teeny tiny epilogue :)

I'll upload it on ao3 tomorrow –since I haven't caught up there yet– so I hope it won't seem as long there...

[butteraway]

when time runs out | iii

⋆ summary:  A young girl has fallen deeply ill with an unknown disease in her, so with all her free time spent in an empty hospital room, she spends it online playing video games. That's until she meets her cousins friends, one spiking her interest with his extremely vulgare language.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none

authors note: I just wanna say thank you for the support on the recent chapters!! I think I'll also be able to post another chapter today to look out for that heheh

Y/N didn't know how long she had been up for, nor how long she had been looking at the white, bland wall in front of her, but one thing she knew was that she felt uncomfortable. For all her time that she had spent in the hospital, she never really paid much attention to her room, almost always on her console and computer.

Of course she did online classes every now and then, but that was just another distraction for her, if she was being honest. A distraction that would make her forget of her situation. It didn't make her feel at home, though living in a hospital wasn't very homey either. Y/N could only sigh as she slowly got up from her bed, stretching to loosen her tense muscles.

Popping her neck, she thought about her bedroom back at home, remembering how safe she felt then. Her soft bed, the stuffed animals that were given to her, the colorful walls-

An idea flashed into Y/N's head as she stopped scratching her cheek in thought. Grinning, she quickly walked towards the little microphone that sat in the corner of her room. Turning it on, she spoke into it.

"Hello? Doctor Receen? You there buddy?" She waited for a moment until she heard the cheerful voice of her doctor speak. "Hello Y/N! How are you today?"

Y/N grinned as she watched the once mirrors turn into windows, giving her access to see the doctor. She waved at him.

"Haha, I'm fine, just fine! I actually just wanna ask you something." Y/N chuckled nervously as Doctor Receen raised an eyebrow in question.

"And that would be?" Y/N shifted to fully face the window, smiling timidly as she shifted her weight on her left leg.

"I was just wondering..." Her voice trailed off, hesitant about what she wanted to ask. Playing with her fingers, she looked up and saw Doctor Receen giving her a smile, urging her to continue.

"I was wondering if I could p-paint my room? Cuz, like it's a little um, not roomy here? I just want to feel more at h-home, y'know? Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, it doesn't sound safe. Sorry, p-please forget what I said, it's nothing-" Right as she was about to put down the mic, she heard laughing fill up her room, eyes wide as she looked towards the man as he wiped his eyes.

"Y/N, you don't have to be nervous around me. We've known each other for almost 2 years." Y/N vigorously nodded her head as Receen chuckled at this.

"And about painting your room-" Y/N waited in anticipation of what he was going to say as he looked to be thinking about the question. He smiled as he looked back at the excited girl.

"I don't see any problem with it." The girl jumped as she cheered with happiness, making Doctor Receen laugh at her reaction.

"Though, we will have to run some tests on the paints so it might take a day or so to get you your things. But we'll just give you the equipment to get ready for your paint job." Y/N hadn't felt so much happiness in a while, besides that night she played with those guys online. And her strawberry cheesecake. She thanked the doctor and jumped around in her room quickly turning on the TV to put some music on.

Walking away from the girl's room, Doctor Receen headed towards his office, a grim expression on his face.

Doctor Receen rubbed his tired eyes, rolling the bottle that held the product of intense research done for the sick girl in her room. His eyes stared blankly at the open space in his office, thinking of how he should explain to the young girl's parents that his team and him had found a temporary way to let their daughter out into the world. A lot to take in, if you ask him.

He sighed, gently placing down the bottle of pills on his desk and reaching for his phone. He faltered though, unsure if the parents would even allow them to let her take the pills. He dialed their phone number though, waiting patiently as the line rang.

"Hello Doctor Receen? Has something happened?" Y/N's mother’s voice rang through the phone, urgently asking the dreaded question she didn't want the answer to.

"Good evening, Mrs. L/N. I hope you and your husband are doing well." Doctor Receen calmly greeted. Have to ease them in before breaking the news. The woman chuckled nervously, unsure where the conversation was heading.

"We're both doing well, thank you." The doctor hummed and slowly inhaled before letting it out. She heard this and a shiver went down her spine, only thinking the worst of what he was going to say.

"I am pleased to inform you that my team and I had finally found a way Y/N could go outside." There was a short silence, Doctor Receen running a hand through his black hair.

"What?" There was a tremble that came from the other line, not believing what he had just told her. Her baby could finally get out of that hospital and she'll be able to hold like she used too? That was impossible.

"H-how is that possible? Are you sure the way you found will work? How do you know if it works if you never tried it? Have you already? Oh my God please don't say you're lying!" Her frantic cries were heard loudly in Receen's ear, causing him to slightly move away from the phone. As he told the mother to calm down, he continued.

"Indeed we found a way for her to see the outside world. And as for knowing it works, we had specialists come and help us with the pills, meaning that there is a 97 percent chance they will work. That three percent is highly unlikely though, so you mustn't worry." M/N wasn't sure about what the doctor had said, but decided to trust him since after all, he had helped them so much already.

"Though, unfortunately, you know very well how much time she has left." A deafening silence sat in the air, making it seem as if time itself had stopped. The atmosphere was grave, almost depressing.

"I know." Her voice was so soft, so quiet, he almost didn't hear what she said if it weren't for the silence in the room. It hurt him to know how long Y/N had left until she...

"That is why I am asking for permission to allow Y/N to take the pills whenever she would like to go outside. There are only 15 pills since we had reached our deadline, but-" Receen was cut off by M/N, her voice shaking.

"How long do the pills last?"

"10 hours." M/N sighed in relief, a tear slipping out of her eye. It had taken a long time to finally create something so complicated and for it to last so long. She was overjoyed and extremely thankful.

"Thank you so much Doctor Receen. Thank you so much, Hiroki and I are forever in your debt." M/N sobbed, clutching her phone as the tears fell at a rapid pace. Doctor Receen smiled as she tried to hold back her choked sobs. He was happy for the family.

"Please Mrs. L/N, it's been such a pleasure helping your family. I could only hope we could've done more, but I hope you shall rest slightly more peacefully. But are we going to be able to allow Y/N to take the pills?" M/N vigorously nodded her head, forgetting that Receen couldn't see her.

"Oh! Yes, of course! But-" M/N paused, her thoughts getting doubtful. "Are there any bad side effects to taking the pills?" Receen was silent for a few seconds, pushing up his skewed glasses.

"She might be slightly dizzy when she first takes the pills and when the effects wear off. She also might be a little weak because of all the medicine in the pills, but besides that, nothing that we don’t know of." M/N let out a sigh of relief, a small smile stretching across her face.

"Thank you so much, Doctor. I can never be able to repay you for everything you've done for all of us." After a quick goodbye, Receen let out a sigh, rubbing his eyes again. Receen grinned, picking up the bottle and inspecting the pills inside.

"She took that in better than I expected. That's cool." Receen put the bottle in the pocket of his coat, and began walking away from his office, a slight skip in his steps.

[queenlua]

Last week you mentioned GPG has really serious problems. Could you tell me more about them? I can't find much of anything online.

first, thanks for your patience with this appallingly late reply! september hit me like a truck :P

second: huh, wow, okay, a cursory google search really failed to turn up much stuff, huh. depressing!

i'm-a talk about the summer 2019 keyserver attack, not because that's the only issue / security vuln / fuck-up the project has ever had, but because it's (1) a hilariously bad fuck-up, and (2) generally reflective of how the project deals with security concerns, and thus demonstrates that the project is fundamentally pretty unserious

so.

this gist, by one of GnuPG's maintainers, does an okay job of summarizing the problem. a brief summary:

* one of the putative purposes of OpenPGP is to provide a "web of trust" via keyservers. i know Jane Doe, i meet her in person, i verify she is who she says she is, and i sign her key; that signature gets reflected in some keyserver, which acts like a big phone book. now, in the future, if you can't personally go verify Jane Doe's trustworthiness, but you do trust me, you can trust communications from Jane Doe, and you looked all this info up in the keyserver

* "what if a malicious actor tried to overload the keyserver?!?!" e.g. what if i spam ~150k signatures on some dude's key just to fuck with the network

* the answer, in the case of GnuPG, is, "this software is shitty and bad and can't deal with that volume so it just grinds to a fucking halt"

* ...and also most the keyservers try to copy their data from each other so you can have a ~web of trust~ throughout the network, which means, these malicious keys quickly perpetuate through the entire nnetwork

* which means anyone who receives the Forbidden Key Data TM, in practical terms, has broken their fucking GnuPG install, and that whole ~web of trust~ thing we built up is now unusable

technically speaking, this is not a security lapse per se! no cryptography has been broken; no secret data has been leaked. it is, however, a fairly straightforward denial of service attack, and is probably kind of disappointing if you wanted your security software to, you know, do software things

and look, anyone can be bitten by a nasty bug. you'll never see me being like "WOW WHAT DUMBFUCKS, HOW COULD ANYONE WRITE SUCH A STUPID BUG," because, y'know, there but for the grace of god i go, and all that. if anyone tells you they're smart enough to never write a bug, they're a fucking liar.  (my full-time job for a while was literally proving those people liars, and i never fucking failed, not because i am brilliant, but because all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of god. [sorry for all the god stuff; my long-abandoned southern baptist heritage comes through when i'm talking security for some reason])

however! the manner in which you respond to such a vulnerability matters:

* let's say i had discovered this bug in GnuPG. the industry standard, if i'm kind and polite, is: i disclose the bug privately to the maintainers, and they have a 90-day window during which to fix it. if they still haven't fixed the problem at the end of the 90 days, that's fine, that's their prerogative, but *i* also get to announce to the world "hey there's this bad bug, here's how i found it, and here's how to exploit it."

this is done to keep The World In General TM safer. see, i'm just some rando. if *i'm* able to find a bug in your shitty software, then it's guaranteed the NSA or Unit 8200 or some-other-super-secret-government-agency absolutely has the resources and wherewithal to find the same bug. and also, some slimy just-in-it-for-the-money hacker gang probably also has the resources to find it. by telling the company "hey, i will go public with this in 90 days," i'm lighting a fire under their ass to actually fix the problem, rather than just letting them pretend security by obscurity will save them, and if they don't fix it by then, then at least users have a prayer of finding out, hey, these dudes do not take security problems seriously, and making informed choices based on that.

there is some wiggle room in this. for instance, the fuck are cloud vendors supposed to do about something like Spectre/Meltdown? there were some shitty, not-100%-effective mitigations that could be done in software, but fundamentally the only real fix was getting new hardware, and tragically, we cannot redesign, manufacture, and ship brand new CPUs to everybody who might be affected within a 90-day timeframe. ergo, Google Project Zero pushed their disclosure deadline way out on that. but, crucially: they still went public at some point, and Intel did not cry "wah" or "no fair" or anything like that. they worked with researchers as best as they could, and once the cat was out of the bag, they offered public resources to help developers understand how their software might be affected. that's the rules of the game.

compare this to, uh, GnuPG's outrageously shitty response (from the previously-linked gist), which can basically be summarized as:

* "wah ocaml is complicated and we don't know how to maintain our own fucking software wah"

* "ten years [?!?!?!] wasn't enough time for us to fix the problem wah"

* "whoever did this attack is a hater :((((("

which. what. what the actual fuck. those are not actual reasons to not fix your sofwtare.

also, the way in which you present your software matters:

* i've thrown up shitty hobby projects on github before. if someone came to me all earnest with a CVE against them, i'd laugh, append the README to say "yo i threw this together on a weekend while i was buzzed, you should absolutely not be relying on this for anything that matters, xoxo lua." that is 100% fine! advertising THIS SOFTWARE IS NOT NECESSARILY SECURE and thus electing not to give a shit about security problems is fine.

* i've been a part of things that are... somewhere between a hobby project and Real Software TM. e.g., research prototypes that you're hoping will be widely used so you can get a better sense of desired use cases and unexpected constraints, but which you hope will be used primarily by "power users" or others who are interested in that project's specific goals.

such a project may not be able to offer the same kinds of security guarantees as Fancy Corporate Software, and that's fine, so long as they're open and honest about stuff like: what the goals of the project are, what we're sure of and what we're less sure of, how we're vetting our stuff, what our policies are when someone does report a security issue, stuff like that. there's plenty of stuff maintained on a volunteer basis that i'd generally trust because, i expect they'll notify me if there is a serious security concern to be worried about, or they have a long track record of excellence in a narrowly-tailored space, etc. that's all good.

* what you cannot, cannot, cannot do, is: claim to offer some kind of robust security solution to people in actually-precarious situations, and then not actually act like a steward of those person's interests. if you're, oh, telling Venezeulan dissidents "our [shitty hobby] software [with gaping, well-known vulnerabilities that haven't been exploited yet ONLY because no major nation-state entity has felt threatened by our code yet, but if they were so threatened, they could trivially wreck the entire project using a well-documented years-old vulnerability we can't be assed to fix because ocaml is hard i guess] is safe and reliable to use!"

...if you're telling political dissidents that? and then you get over-the-top pissed off at someone pointing out the fucking problem you refuse to fix? and somehow make it all about mememe? then fuck you, sincerely. the threat those dissidents face is not someone breaking the fucking key network. the threat is you, you personally, because you are fucking lying to them about what your software is able to do.

GOD. sorry, just. i reread that link and got so pissed again. fuck that attitude entirely. if you let people down, fucking just sit with that for a bit, okay?  sit and think and do better next time.  christ.

anyway.

this is a particularly gratuitous example of GnuPG maintainers being little shits, but in general they've been lackadaisical and dismissive some other times in the past when people have brought them real security problems, and then act all pissy if, y'know, people go public with said security problems. i haven't kept up with their work lately (i think maybe the community got kind of annihilated by this keyserver thing?) & i have other bones to pick with any project of that type (it's kind of taking the wrong tack entirely imho), but like, yeah, in general if a software community's response to security bugs is "oh gosh that's hard maybe we'll get to it someday," you should not be trusting that software lol

[mhaverse-writes]

burning cold. (dabi x prohero!reader)

author’s note: oh, hi. uh, this is awkward. remember when i said i was coming back like months ago then i didn’t? good times, good times. well after a rough patch irl, i’m officially back! hope you didn’t miss me too much uwu. anyways, onto the story, i hope you enjoy! thanks for reading <3 - with love, rj

description: while working undercover at a club looking for a target, you run into the last person you wanted to see. the dangerous villain, dabi, who just so happens to be your very forbidden ex. though you’re trying to move on, dabi isn’t ready to let you go just yet.

warnings: cursing, suggestive content (some smoochin’ and heavy pettin’ ya dig?), dabi being massive a dick

                                             ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Hey, baby. You come here often?"

"Go to hell, Dabi."

From your seat at the bar, you take a quick sip of your drink before checking that your ear piece was off. You glance around to make sure none of your colleagues have noticed the poorly-disguised villain trying to 'pick you up,' but let out a tiny sigh of relief as they're too preoccupied with scouting for the target. Dabi chuckles, drawing your attention back to him, his smug face souring your mood the longer you look at it.

"If you're here to arrest me, you're doing a shit job at it," He idly runs his finger across the rim of his glass while resting his elbow against the bar and his head in his hand. His lack of caution with the fact that he's sitting next to a literal pro-hero isn't anything new, but it still annoyed you to no end. Did he see you as some kind of joke? Or he just knows you aren't going to do anything about it. God, the fact that he's so certain of his safety pisses you off even more.

"Shut up, I'm not here for you," Snapping with a bite that only makes his grin widen, you turn in your seat rather fast, spilling a little bit of your drink onto the floor. You ignore it, and do your best to ignore him as you rake your gaze across who you were really here for. Dabi turns as well, making a show of stretching before resting his arm behind you on the bar table. You feel your eye twitch, risking a look at him. He has his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

"Your claws wound me, kitten." Though he's speaking in his usual lazy drawl, somehow it isn't hard to hear him over the vibrating bass of music pounding your ears. It also didn't fail to send a tiny chill down your spine at the sound of the almost nostalgic nickname. You do your best to quell it, but it's Dabi of fucking course he notices. His grin is nearly lecherous, but he doesn't speak on it, thank God.

"Why are you here anyway? How did you find me?" Curiosity getting the better of you (the whole summation of your relationship with Dabi, if you're being honest) you turn to meet his icy blue stare, scowling hard to make sure you didn't get lost in it.

"Maybe 'I'm not here for you.'" Dabi parrots, eyes not leaving yours as he takes a sip of his drink. Your first instinct is to call bullshit, but a nagging insecurity at the back of your brain envisions him with someone else. Jealousy churns in your stomach, ugly and rancid, before you bury it down in disgust. Why should I care? Your rational side argues. It's good that he's moved on, that way he'll leave me the hell alone. But you know deep down, you're lying to yourself. Though you're pretty sure you'd rather nosedive off a cliff before admitting that.

Either way, you've entertained this long enough already. Grabbing your drink, you down the rest of it before moving to stand. The muted surprise on Dabi's face-- though it's as simple as his eyes widening the smallest amount-- doesn't fail to bring you satisfaction. He may think you're willing to give him all of your attention, but you are more than happy to prove him wrong.

Dabi, however, obviously is not.

Before you can even think, Dabi's hand snatches your wrist and drags you backward, sending you careening into his chest. You scoff up at him. Was he being serious right now?

"What the hell do you think you're--?!"

Dabi's lips fall to your ear and you're barely able to contain a shiver. "Your little 'target,' is onto you, kit. Three o' clock." Eyes widening, you instinctively turn to look, but Dabi tightens his hold on your wrist and whisks you away, leaving you stumbling after him as you try to keep up with his long legs. He expertly weaves you both through the oblivious crowd, before bodily moving you into a tiny corner on the other side of the club. You try to check on your teammates, but your attention is snatched by Dabi as he takes up every inch of your vision, pinning you against the wall. His cold eyes twinkle with amusement as he takes you in slowly.

"Y'know, I really missed you, sweet thing," You would almost think he's sincere if it weren't for the way he isn't sincere at all. He dips his head down and presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. You can't help but whimper, kicking yourself mentally right after. You can't do this right now! Your target is not only suspicious of you, but the fact your team could catch you with Dabi at any second seizes your stomach with fear. You reach up to your ear piece to turn it on. If you request assistance, maybe you could scare Dabi off.

Your fingers graze only the empty inside of your ear. Panic bubbles in you, burning cold. You look up at Dabi, to find your earpiece clutched daintily between his teeth. No. You reach forward, but aren't fast enough to stop him before he crushes it with a flex of his jaw.

You're alone.

Alone with him.

"Aw, don't look so scared, kit." He spits the busted thing out. You don't have time to register how gross that is before he takes another step close, even closer, bowing his head until your noses brush. Dabi's eyes flick down to your mouth. Your heart stops. "I'll protect you."

His lips crash into yours and you can't help the moan that leaves from deep in your chest at the feeling. Completely losing all reason, you arch into Dabi, hands grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him flush against you. You feel him smirk against your lips and a small part of you argues that you giving into him is a bad thing. But honestly, can it be so bad when it feels so unbelievably good?

Dabi pulls away all too soon and you damn near whine, chasing after his lips fruitlessly. Leaning back to his full height, Dabi considers you while looking all too pleased with himself. You’re too blissed out to care. God, you'd forgotten what his kiss felt like, did it always knock the breath out of you so fast?

"Here's the sitch, hero." He says, calloused hands tracing your features. You melt into them, despite yourself. "I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t here for you. Thing is, the little snitch you're after has unfinished business with us. And you taking him in--well--causes some problems for me and my team."

That gets you. Snapping out of your stupor, you blink up at him, eyebrows creasing. Is this what this was? He was only trying to distract you? You dig your nails into your palms, cursing yourself for not seeing this sooner. If Dabi was here, damn well Toga or someone else could be here too. If Toga was here, you wouldn't even know who she was. What if she already took advantage of you abandoning your post and snatched up the target? Hell, she could already be halfway back to their base with him!

"You bastard!" Damn near snarling, you shove him back with all your might, face hot with embarrassment. "Is that why you cornered me here? To get me away from your fucking snitch?!" Dabi merely chuckles. God, you wanted to punch him right in his stupid mouth.

"No, baby. I brought you here because I missed you,” His thumb ran over your bottom lip, retreating when you tried to bite him. “And tell you to back off.” Though he's still smiling, all humor has drained from his voice, making your blood run cold. "I'd hate to have to dirty up that pretty little outfit of yours. I'll take it from here."

"Like hell you w--!"

"There you are!"

The voice of your superior sends relief and fear rushing in you at the same time. You whirl to face her, trying to mask the shame threatening to swallow you whole.

"S-starlight!" You squeak, standing at attention. You glance at Dabi, to find he's already gone, the dancing crowd overtaking where he once stood. Oh, thank God, you think, before freezing up again. He was off to get the target. You didn't have much time.

"Where did you go?" Starlight demands, her iridescent nails digging into your shoulders as she grasped them. "I was worried you'd been compromised."

"W-we're not alone, Star," You stutter out, mind still reeling from the feeling of Dabi against you. Despite the fact he tricked you, it didn't stop the way your body still tingled at the thought of him. Jesus, you were done for. "The League is here, they're after the target too!" You left out Dabi. You left out Dabi?! Fuck, you were protecting him!

"What? Did they hurt y--?"

"No, no, I'm okay. But we need to hurry before--!"

Before you could finish, the sound of screams ripped your body from the inside out. Oh, no.

You and Starlight rush into action, following the screams towards the middle of the dance floor, where a crowd had gathered. You noticed the rest of your team pushing against people as well, struggling to get to the middle. But you didn't have to get there to see what happened next.

Blue flames fanned out in a hot arc, prompting the crowd to back away even further, shoving you and Starlight back. Dabi emerged from the fire, clutching your limp target, a sweaty, plump, balding man by the collar of his shirt. God, was he...?

"Dabi!" Starlight shouts, pure energy bursting to life from her palms. She used a beam of hard light to propel herself up and over the crowd, aiming towards the man. Your heart drops. For Starlight, Dabi, or both, you're not even sure.

Before she can reach him, however, Dabi takes off, using his flames to scare the crowd away, clearing a path for himself. The fire begins to spread and everyone shakes out of their shock to replace it with panic. The people run in different directions, struggling to escape the flames. Starlight and your teammates attempt to fight the crowd and chase the villain, but you stay stuck to the spot, cradling yourself to find some sense of comfort. You knew they weren't going to catch him. You've lost the target.

And it's all your fault.

Sighing, you kick into gear, following Starlight and pushing against the panic and eventually making it outside. The chill of the night is refreshing, but does nothing to ease the weight on your chest. Though you knew Dabi was long gone, it hurt even more to see it. He had played you. Again.

And something tells you it won't be the last time.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can you please write a fic where James is a rich,star footballer and Sirius comes in to work as his super hott personal bodyguard??? And then James starts crushing on him hard but Sirius is hesitant because he could lose his job over this!!!! Please please please write this... I am a biiiig fan of your work... God Bless❤️

"What? I don't need a bodyguard," James said. The very idea was preposterous. 

Coach glared at him, but the rest of the team was slightly more reserved in staring him down. The whole administrative team was there, from the head coach to the team's PR representative. "There have been threats." 

"So? I also got threatened when I was seventeen and nothing ever came of it." 

The team manager jumped in then. "This isn't a schoolyard threat made because you stole someone's girlfriend. Or- whatever," he said, fumbling a little-- as he always did-- when he said something thoughtless and remembered that James was gay afterwards. That being said, James definitely had stolen some girlfriends at school because it was the best approximation he could get for what attraction to women was. "These are extremely conservative people who want you dead and aren't shy about showing they're serious," the team manager continued. "Even if they don't manage to kill you, they could permanently injure you, effectively ending your career. Is that what you want?" 

James huffed, knowing that he was being a little petulant and not caring. "No," he admitted. If he'd been just talking to his mates, he never would've admitted it, but they'd all gotten together to sit him down and make sure he listened to them; they wouldn't have bothered if they weren't seriously concerned. 

"Then get a goddamn bodyguard," Coach said. "It won't be forever-- just until these people realise they have better things to do with their time than harass a popular footballer." 

"Fine." If James had known it would be this much trouble to come out, he wouldn't have done it. He'd just been thinking that he might like to date someone for real. He'd also thought about himself when he was younger and how he could've figured out that he fancied men before he was twenty sodding three if one of his favourite footie players had been gay (and out. He wasn't discounting the idea entirely just because they hadn't said anything.). "I don't know where to find one though." 

"We've got a list of possibilities," someone else said, handing James a sheet of paper-- for the life of him, James couldn't remember what she did, but in his defense, he'd only met her once as an introduction and then seen her in passing at the past six years of holiday parties. On the paper was a list of agencies, their websites, and phone numbers to contact them. There wasn't any mention of price, but it's not like James was pressed for cash or anything. Hell, he'd already reached his lifetime savings amount and didn't really know what to do with the salary he was still getting. Might as well use some of it to stay safe and pacify his bosses. 

*

James had weighed all his options and looked at all of the information he'd been given, and he still couldn't decide. He'd handed the list to Remus, and he'd picked one at random; James took his choice as a good decision and called the company up. They made everything so easy for him that he was beginning to think Remus had special choosing powers. From now on, James was going to run his decisions by Remus before doing anything. 

And then he actually met his bodyguard. He couldn't decide if this was better than before, or worse. Either way, he didn't think asking Remus for advice would really be the way that he wanted for his life to go. 

He was told that his bodyguard's name was Sirius, and they had a first meeting at the company to sort out a few details. If James was a smart person, he would've taken one look at Sirius and said, "Thanks but no thanks, can I get someone else?" But James wasn't smart. He was a dumbarse. A dumbarse that let his heart make decisions for him. Sirius was, in a word, gorgeous. He had a face that looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine, and a smile that stopped James's breath in its tracks. He was sure that Sirius was good at his job, but James rather doubted his decision to accept him as a bodyguard. He wasn't going to be able to focus for shite. 

James explained the situation to Sirius-- the boring stuff, about why he needed a bodyguard-- and he didn't blink at him being bent. Either he already knew that because he followed football, he didn't care, or he cared but was a very good actor. James imagined that there was a certain amount of acting as a bodyguard, but he'd also like to think that Sirius wouldn't have accepted if it bothered him. 

James had been afraid that Sirius was going to walk slightly to the side and behind him and stay resolutely silent the whole time, but he carried a conversation alright as they walked to James's car. "I'm sure you get this all the time and you're annoyed with it, but why's your name Sirius?" 

The look on Sirius's face showed that he was very much used to the question, even though he didn't look annoyed by it. "Named after the star in Canis Major. Being named after stars is sort of a family thing." 

"Really?" James asked. He was instantly charmed. Sirius hadn't even put much effort into it, but James was head over heels after exchanging two words with him. 

"Mmhmm. My brother's Regulus, my father and great-grandfather were both Orion, and I've got a cousin named Bellatrix." 

"Wow. Your family must've been made fun of a lot when they were kids." 

Sirius snorted, and James looked at him curiously. 

"What?" 

"I wouldn't call any of us... well-behaved children. Got in a lot of fights." 

"Ah, and it led to you being a bodyguard?" 

Sirius shrugged with an easygoing smirk. "Might as well do something you're good at, right?" 

*

"It's total rubbish that they're putting McLaggen in before you," Sirius said one day after practice. 

"Right?" Then he paused. Sirius hadn't been around long enough to be so certain of that. Which meant, "I knew you were a fan. Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I didn't want to freak you out. You're dealing with enough right now that I didn't want for you to worry about your bodyguard fawning over you." 

"Aww, you fawn over me?" James asked, unable to help a pleased smile. 

"It's called knowing who the best is," Sirius said with a wink. 

*

"You don't get along with your brother?" James asked. Personally, he didn't have any siblings, but from what he understood, those relationships were often complicated. Lily, for example, cared about her sister even though-- as far as James could tell-- she was kind of an irredeemable twat that didn't seem to like Lily at all. 

Sirius shrugged. "He wants to like our parents, but now that he disagrees with them on everything, it's not easy. I keep telling him that his life would be easier if he stopped talking to them, but he feels all guilty about it." He rolled his eyes expressively. "I think he thinks that he owes them for them not being worse." 

"You both should get new parents," James said. "I volunteer my own." 

"I think you stop needing new parents when you're an adult." 

"Words that can only be spoken by someone with shite parents. Maybe you don't need parents anymore, but if Regulus is still trying to connect with them, it means he needs someone. My parents are great. Mum will probably see him smile once and then demand he come to Saturday night dinners for the next ten years." 

Sirius snickered. 

"Oh, I'm not joking," James insisted. "Lily and I haven't been together since we were eighteen, and she still comes over for dinner when she can make it." 

"Only you would be on such great terms with your ex that your parents would do that." 

"Bold of you to assume my parents wouldn't have done it whether we were on good terms or not. They blood adore her, and that didn't stop because we weren't dating anymore. I swear, they love every single friend I let them meet. If I introduced them to your brother? He wouldn't make it out of that house without them knowing his favourite dessert. He wouldn't stand a chance." 

"Maybe that's what he needs," Sirius said, sounding amused. "We'll have to set that up when this all blows over." 

*

James's first problem with Sirius had been that he was so gorgeous James couldn't think for shite. His second problem with Sirius was that he was an attractive person all around, not just in his face. Honestly, who had decided that someone should get to be that pretty and also be that funny? It wasn't fair to the rest of humanity. 

He'd never been shy, so he told Sirius that he fancied him shortly after figuring it out. Thinking a bloke was fit as hell was one thing. Actually fancying him was quite another. People were fit all the time, and James had never lost sleep over it. He knew he'd regret it if he sat around and pined after Sirius uselessly though. 

He told Sirius, and Sirius looked at him for a second, then blinked. "Erm. James, I can't- I could get fired for dating a client." 

"Right." That made sense. "I hadn't thought of that." He really hadn't thought about it, but who'd want to hire a bodyguard that had a history of hooking up with who they were protecting? Hell, the company could get looked into for solicitation if it happened often enough. If James had thought of that, he would've kept his mouth shut until the end of Sirius's employment with him. "Just... y'know, if you were interested, I'm probably not going to need a bodyguard for much longer." He'd checked back in with the admin team, and they'd said that by next year, he should be good. New information was popping up on people that James's despisers hated more, so they were starting to leave him alone. At least, that's what he'd gotten from the conversation even if it wasn't entirely accurate. 

"I know," Sirius said with half a smile. "I was there for that conversation, remember?" 

"I'd forgotten," James admitted, a little ashamed. He wasn't the best at paying attention to several things at once when he really cared about one of them more than the others. In that case, he ended up thinking about the one thing and trying desperately to pay attention to the rest. That day, he was pretty sure he'd been so focused on getting his life back to normal that he'd ignored Sirius, and even the talk about their upcoming game. 

*

"Bloody hell," Sirius said, one arm around James as he half-carried, half-guided him down the street so they could catch a cab. "I signed up to be your bodyguard, not your designated driver." Despite his complaining, he didn't sound upset, more amused. 

"You could be both," James said slowly, having to put more effort into his words than usual since he was sloshed. He preferred speaking Hindi when he was pissed; it was just easier than English. He didn't think Sirius knew Hindi though, and the only thing he wanted right now was to enjoy Sirius's company. 

Sirius laughed. "Maybe so, but I preferred just doing one." 

"Heeeey, you could do the partner thing soon." 

"I don't remember mentioning a partner thing." 

James licked his lips as he tried to remember what the phrase he'd first used was. "Designated driver. Only, instead of just dragging me to a car, we'd be getting sloshed together." 

"That does sound more fun." 

James was always talkative, but now that he was sloshed, he wasn't stopping. He really liked Sirius. He liked him for lots of reasons, but right now he liked that Sirius was encouraging him. He wasn't getting mad at James for continuing to talk all through the cab ride, or as he helped him up the stairs to his flat. "You're so wonderful," James mumbled. 

"Thanks," Sirius said with a laugh. He fished around James's pockets for his keys. James turned and rested his head on Sirius's shoulder, which did make it easier, but somehow he thought that wasn't what James had had in mind. 

"You're so pretty," he said, turning his face into Sirius's neck. 

"Thanks," he said again. "It's nice to be appreciated." 

"In all my life, I've never met someone that made me feel like you do," James said. 

"I don't know what you just said, but I'm going to assume it was complimentary." 

James nodded. He kissed Sirius's neck because it was there. "The prettiest damn thing I've ever seen." 

Sirius swallowed thickly. He didn't need to understand the language to know that whatever James said was something he would appreciate. The kiss sent tingles down his spine, and James's mouth was still resting close enough to him that Sirius could feel his breath hot against his skin. "As much as we would enjoy that, I thought we agreed to wait." 

"You're right. You're just so pretty," he whined. "It's really not fair. You should try to be less pretty; it would make my life easier." 

"You can live with it," Sirius said. He finally found the keys and put it in the door for him. He unlocked it and pushed the door open. James looked pretty comfy where he was, and it made shuffling him inside his flat a bit harder than getting him here had been. "C'mon mate, you've got to get in bed." 

"But you're not there," James said, sounding awfully petulant about it. 

Sirius chuckled. "No, but you'll get to sleep just fine without it." 

"That's what you think." 

"Love, you're drunk enough that you'll definitely pass out before the night's through." 

"Aww, you called me 'love'. No one's ever done that before." 

"Really?" 

James nodded again, but since he wasn't leaning on Sirius as heavily this time, he swayed a little. Sirius was still right next to him though, so he was able to keep him from falling over. "My last boyfriend called me 'babe' but I sort of hated it." 

"You do seem like you'd prefer the sweeter pet names. Sweetheart, things like that." 

"Feel free to call me sweetheart as much as you want." 

"I think I will. After I stop working on protecting you, that is. We've still got to wait, remember?" 

"What I remember is issuing an invitation that never got an answer." 

"I assumed you knew my answer. Or was I not obvious enough about my interest?" Sirius asked quietly. 

"I would say that subtlety passes me by," James said. "But I got it now, thanks. You sure I can't convince you to stay?" 

"Not while I'm working for you, and definitely not while you're sloshed." Sirius brought him to his room and took off his shoes when he collapsed back on the bed. "If you want to get undressed more, you're going to have to do it yourself, sweetheart," he said, then kissed James's forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

*

The day for James to no longer need a bodyguard felt like it took forever, but he could grudgingly admit that it had been a good idea. None of it had been serious, but he was told-- by Sirius-- that that's because having a bodyguard was often a large deterrent. In his time as James's bodyguard, Sirius successfully intimidated several people and got physical with one. James would be lying if he said that it hadn't been hot to watch, but he also wasn't going to say that out loud-- it made him feel like he was the heroine in a teen adventure book. 

"So, do I have to take you on a date before I get to kiss you?" James asked. 

"I wouldn't want you to think I'm easy," Sirius replied with a wink. 

"You like curry? I know a good place." 

Sirius made a face. "I only like it from one restaurant, and it's all the way up in Wales." 

"Wait," James said slowly, a smile creeping across his face, "are you talking about Andi's?" 

"Yes, you know it?" 

"Bloody love it. I can't make the trip as much as I want, but if you're willing, we can definitely go up there." 

"I can think of worse things than spending time with you on the way to the best curry in the UK," Sirius said. 

*

James rented a car because it was easier than taking a cab that far, and it was definitely more private than a train-- which would only be able to take them part of the way anyhow. He wanted for them to be alone anyways, so that they could catch up on all the flirting they'd missed. Not to say that there had been a drought of flirting while Sirius was his bodyguard, but after they agreed to date when his contract was up, they'd tried to tone it down. 

They didn't have to worry about that anymore. 

The drive was okay, dinner was great, and Sirius snogged him for a bit after they got back in the car but before they drove back to London. 

"How the hell do you feel even better than you look?" James whispered, stealing another kiss. 

Sirius chuckled. "I was about to ask you the same question, love." 

[frogcook]

"Er, h-hello Theo-san! I was wondering if you would be able to make kalua pig. It's a dish native to my hometown, just a little village boarded by the Coral Sea. T-Truth be told, I've been feeling a little homesick lately, a-and I need a little pick me up since work at the lounge has been so stressful... b-but please don't feel pressured to or anything! I wouldn't want to trouble you!" - a stuttering Octa A-kun

(Reminder to watch watchers Dish Granted)

"D'awwww, take it easy lil' guy, dunno what your employers are doing to you but you're always welcome here."

The mention of homesickness had also struck a chord within Theo. After sitting the student down he started to look up kalua pig on his phone.

"Truth be told I miss home too… see ya ain't alone! It's no biggie to do this for you. Anything to close that space between your heart."

He gave the student a hearty thump on his back, although he may have underestimated his fragility just a bit.

"Oops sorry! Haha I forget my own strength sometimes… Anyways! It seems relatively simple although I don't really have an underground oven… and uh, do you mind waiting here for 16 hours?"

Even if he can't see the student's face he can tell that's a no.

"Hey hey it's not a bother! Not a bother at all! We'll think of something I'm sure!"

Oh no he messed up didn't he? Now he's upset and oh god what's Theo going to do? A head pat, that's what he's going to do.

"Don't be upset now… Because I have an idea. You're from Night Raven right? They only accept the best of the best, so that means you're one of the best! So, I'll need your help alright?"

After seeing the student's eyes light up behind his bangs, Theo returned it with a warm smile.

"Sorry for making you work ahead of your hours… But uhm- it's relatively simple, in a way. Y'know that thing scientists use to replicate aging? It's kinda like that but magic. Normally it would be a heavy load on one person but since you're here you can probably help. It may make you feel tired if you're up to the task."

"Nothing I'm not used to…"

"Huh? Get some rest after this alright? I'll show that good for nothin' boss how to treat their employees correctly…"

Most unlike his normal demeanor he took on a grumpy face before realizing he may be scaring his guest.

"Ahahaha don't worry about it! Sit down and relax, it's your time off!"

With a brief session of washing his hands, it was off to the pantry! Or the fridge since there was some pork butt hidden around the back. He didn't know what to do with it until now. Using a carving fork, he would poke holes all over, though the force put into them seems slightly more violent than normal. While slathering the meat with salt and sauces he chirped up with his own thoughts.

"What's the village like? It sounds homely. Did ya see any of the merpeople? It's really interesting how diverse life is huh. Oh you surf? That's awesome! I'd love to see it one day."

The conversation had whittled the empty space in between and it was onto the next step.

"And would you look at that it's time! Stand by the slow cooker over there and I'll show you what to do."

After setting the meat inside the slow cooker and a quick session of sanitation, Theo took out a ladle with a green gem embedded.

"Silly, I know but hey practical! How about a little practice alright? It's just like aging and lighting something on fire! Slowly!"

Well that was very reassuring, but he has no time to think about his poor word choice! He set out an apple on the table and tapped it with the gem of his ladle. With the passing of a few seconds the apple started to heat up and age a little past it's prime.

"My condolences to this apple, but you saw that right? It's a combination of fire and time. Try to recreate it alright? This small amount won't do much harm, I think."

He sat down another apple and gave the mob student a reassuring smile. He shyly tapped the apple and surprisingly got it on the first try! Hooray! Although that joy would wither away just as the apple had because oh god it's on fire.

"Oops oops! Oh no not again-"

Theo recklessly cupped tap water from the sink and splattered it over the apple. Along with the floorboards and table.

"Okay that was on me, we should've done this outside. That was great though, although maaaaaybe you went a little overboard. Something on your mind? This is telling me that you're not having the best time. Oh and don't worry about the slow cooker, let's just say it can take the heat."

After Theo had cleaned up, he would sit him and his guest by the slow cooker.

"Alright so just tap your gem on the meat before I close it, I'll do it too. We have to keep a steady flow of magic, strong emotions could throw it off."

Gentle taps of the pork and off to hell it goes!

"We're gonna be here for an hour or so. Conversation can aid this process, mostly because the flow of feelings will be constant. So tell me about yourself! I'll talk about myself too if it helps."

And so the shadowy student started a stream of words. From his time by that quaint little village to the hell known as Night Raven College. Anger, sadness, and happiness, all apparent in his words. All the while, Theo was listening patiently.

The best part of it all, none of it threw off the flow! He must have been keeping his cool because of the meat.

"Hah! I get ya, I had to work 2 jobs before, the managers were nice because I was a kid n' all. Couldn't thank them enough. But your manager… is a kid like you? Huh? I take back what I said before, I'm going straight to his parents. It's always your old folks that influence you the most y'know? Yours have raised a mighty fine young man."

Theo gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. The student had given a bashful smile before looking away.

"Don't be so modest now! Work hard and you'll go places I promise. And grades aren't everything, work isn't everything. Sure they might help and you gotta do your best. But this is your life, live it how you want to. And live it with pride. You aren't anyone's servant, got that? Your hard work is for you and you only!"

The ding of the cooker had indicated the end of their wait. Theo pulled the plug and carefully removed the pig onto a platter. He took a fork and started tearing into it, creating several juicy shreds of meat. With a few extra garnishes and sauces, it was finally ready.

"Your dish has been granted! Good job on the meat, even if it was a lil' overcooked, I think it makes it better! You've got skill, just keep working at it. What matters is that you keep going, not that you stand out. And please rest after this. I think I will too- only after I eat this with you! May or may not have made 12 servings but you can take it all-"

[thisdreamplace]

Hi, what would you (or a general person) think/feel/act like if they were happily employed with a major paycheck?

I'm asking coz i feel blockage when I try to imagine living in the state of this manifestation. Fears of being incompetent at interviews and unable to answer questions properly or rambling crop up when I try to even imagine having that amazing job

Worse, I mean not worse, coz ik circumstances shouldn't matter, thing is idk idek the specifics of the ideal company or ideal job post of my desire

Ik I want eg:

an exorbitant salary (financial independence), even tho I fear I won't be able to negotiate at all (I'm not exactly a bargainer)

a role of responsibility where i can learn from the higher ups while inspiring those below, with a level of autonomy

Work that's not tedious or repetitive

So on and so forth

Even tho I don't have much job xp (again, Im prolly invalidating myself here, coz the fact is, I've come to realise even if I win a Nobel Prize, I'll keep feeling I haven't done 'enough'), I do have amazing, hard-as-hell-to-get qualifications (and again... I feel I'm not enough like wth whyyy? ;_; I've met so many people who've got half of these qualifications yet they're more confident and can actually flaunt that while I feel, not like an imposter, but ig worthless when compared)

The worst is Ive always freaking felt it in my bones I'm worthy of a higher role than my current self can achieve (by current self I'm referring to the fact that I do have issues eg nightmare interviews in the past hovering over me, beliefs of being incompetent or unqualified or being unable to answer difficult questions (since I was a child, I've been told, disparagingly alas, that I'm only 'book smart' and could only ace studies by 'rote learning', which is untrue. In fact thanks to that, I actually developed a memory issue whereby I'm unable to memorize stuff easily (btw one of my secrets to academic success has been understanding concepts, mind mapping it all mentally, having a solid grip over foundations etc. Ok I digressed) anyhow, I really do feel unprepared to answer questions (in fact one of my fears is being asked an intrusive question (like hey, why are you eg so pimply? (Btw I'm not, this is just an example) in front of everyone and being at the center of attention in that way 😱) so yeah, I hope you can sense the myriad of beliefs holding me back (and sometimes I feel nauseated to even think of 'facing' these beliefs or fears. Like, it's as I wrote to u rn that I realised I fear looking incompetent, except this case is so severe coz I feel like it's worthless if it's not done perfectly (or as near perfect))

So how do I manifest here? Hell, my mind starts hurting if I assert: okay, let's at least prepare, no, at least LOOK at a job interview question

Ik the Law says I can assume anything and that'll work. So how do I assume I'm, y'know, a confident gal who does not have the aforementioned state of mind? Or how do I defuse the root issues linked to childhood/past stuff? Or better yet, what state should I focus on assuming/taking on? I have no idea how to start. And thanks to analysis paralysis (it took me years to acknowledge this even) I'll end up prolly doing nothing then another month will pass by with me doing nothing and then I'll type another frenzied ask

PS: yep, Im aware of the self concept topic, but I hope u can shed some light on this specific matter at hand, kinda customized?

Ty

😰

So to begin with, scratch everything and literally focus on your self-esteem and your concept of self. No, you don't need a good self esteem to manifest, but I'm really passed pretending like it should be optional. Every one of us deserves to feel good about ourselves, for ourselves. And you're holding yourself back so much by not allowing yourself to feel good about who you are. I mean, you list how accomplished you are and yet it's still not good enough for you?

It's confusing because if you felt in your bones you were worthy of something better, how can you sit there and but yourself down so easily? Your reality is giving you what you actually feel worthy of. And it's not what you desire.

You're the only one holding yourself in this story. You know the law says everything is happening now, meaning all desired experiences and versions of yourself are available to you now. You tap into them by using your imagination and dwelling there. So, stop sticking yourself to this story that doesn't help you. You feel unprepared because you keep saying so. You keep replaying this memory of things going badly, when in reality there's not even a past. You're the one keeping it alive by being so consumed by it and thinking it's so real. But see, the past only exists in your mind. It doesn't exist elsewhere. And just like with everything else in our mind, we have the power to decide what is and is not so.

Plus, the comparison game has got to come to an end. Everyone is you pushed out anyway. A win for one person, is a win for all. Who are you comparing yourself to, besides a reflection in the mirror? There's no point. The more you let go of the old way of thinking and allow yourself to remember more and more who you truly are, the easier it'll be to let go of wanting to compare yourself all the time. It's literally your reality. It's your world and everyone else is just living in it. Seriously. You're literally at the center of your world. You're at the heart of it all, there is no one else but self.

Self concept isn't something to push to the side. I notice a lot of people know about it and then go, "ehh but what else is there?" Like, I did the same thing. And that's why my journey was full of detours when I could have just went straight to my destination.

How do you do this? Well, you do have some idea of who you want to be. I mean, I'm guessing you want to be the opposite of every undesirable trait/experience you mentioned? So therefore, (if you want to write it down, please do), you need to decide the mindset you want to focus on manifesting within yourself. Let the outer world be for a bit, it's time to focus on you and only you. Here's an article that gives an example of how to get clear on the version of you that you want to embody.

And then once you get clear on that, really, the only task you have is to wake up everyday and thrive to focus on keeping that mindset. Sure you might slip up, sure some days you may not do well keeping it at all, but it doesn't matter. You keep persisting and it gets easier and becomes your new normal.

You see, I like how Dylan James says manifesting is not a trying process because it makes sense. For example, you didn't try to end up with the experiences you have surrounding career right now. However, you manifested it due to your concept of self. Change your conception of self and without trying, that perfect career you desire will find you. It can be that simple. But we have to allow it to be. Plus, you really only need to focus on yourself. You don't need to have a list that consists of your must-haves in a job, or anything. (Unless you truly like to make lists like that.) Because the truth is, our desires are from God. Therefore, we never need to worry about telling our Godself what we want. Our Godself already knows. So if you are unclear, you can trust you'll be lead exactly where you want to go. Being specific or being general makes no difference and it's okay to approach manifesting with either one. You'll always come out successful no matter what. But the change begins within. There is no one to change but self.

Hopefully this is helpful! You got this! 💖

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #376

“when the wind bends the branch to softly touch me  /  when the band plays your song  /  i feel strong enough to keep dreaming”

If your s/o smoked pot/did drugs would you care? Yes, but for pot that's only because it's illegal here. I also find smoking to be a turn-off, but I'd be able to look past that if it was for actual health reasons. Do people ever call you by your last name? No. Has the last person you dated/fell in love with ever seen you cry? Yes. Where are you going on your next vacation (or where do you WANT to go)? I've got none planned, nor do I know where I'd want to prioritize. Like there's South Africa, but I first need to get healthier before I could handle the heat and trudging through sand. I want to go to Yellowstone National Park to spread Teddy's ashes there (seeking permission of course), but again, I need to be in better shape before I go on a venture of photographing there, as well. I need to be healthier to do a lot of the things I want to... Do you own anything bought in another country? No. Who do you text the most? Sara. Four things you wish you had? Better health (including mental), financial stability, a job, and motivation to indulge more in my artistic hobbies. What was the last thing you cried about? Stress regarding this dog we're stuck with. What is your favorite Elvis song? Probably "You're The Devil In Disguise." Do you think you could be the next American Idol? Ha, absolutely not. Do you prefer reading fiction or non-fiction? Fiction, by a long shot. Does anybody send you money in the mail for your birthday? No. My grampa used to, but he's been dead a couple years. Who is one person you met and automatically didn’t like? I was not a fan of a doctor I once saw for my tremors. She was very rude and just threw the idea of me having Parkinson's or something at what, 17 years old or whatever? My psychiatrist knows her as well and knows she's a whackjob. Heard her name and was essentially like "ew" lmao. What monster would you be most afraid to have in your closet? A male one with a knife, I guess. I really hate knives. And men scare me anyway. Which Adam Sandler movie do you like the most? I don't know, he's in too many to possibly think of one right off the top of my head. Who was one of your first celebrity crushes? Jesse McCartney was my first true love, haha. Have you ever been hit on through text messages? Yes. Do you have to do any yard work? No. Have you ever mowed the lawn? No. Do you get an allowance? No. Did you ever know your great grandparents? I think I knew one? There was this woman from my childhood I knew as "GG" for "great grandma," but I have no recollection of who she was related to or even if she was directly related to me. I remember that I really really liked her, though. Do you like the taste of Tums? It's the texture I really don't like. The candy-like Tums though, y'know, not the chalky ones, I like more than someone should like medicine, haha. How about Pepto Bismol? Omfg no. Do you have a fast or slow metabolism? I have a slow metabolism, but thank Christ it's not as bad as when I was on Abilify. That stupid fucking medicine was the reason I gained so much weight that I haven't been able to lose. What’s your favorite onomatopoeia? (Crash, bang, zoom, meow) I dunno. Do you eat ramen? There's only one specific kind of ramen I've had that I like: Yakisoba's spicy chicken one. Sweet or regular pickles? Regular. I don't like sweet pickles. What kind of dreams do you have most often? Since my nightmares started, violent ones. I'm usually trying to defend myself or lashing out at someone myself. What do you do for personal growth? I try to be a deep thinker, for one. This can way too easily lead to overthinking, but I appreciate that I think it at least helps me learn from my mistakes and work towards making me a better person. I need to start challenging my anxiety more, as that would definitely be massive growth... If you could read anyone’s mind, who would be the first person you’d read? Jason's, only because all I want to know is if he thinks I was emotionally abusive after the breakup or not. But I also don't want to know. Do you have a makeup item or style trick that you feel improves your look significantly and that you feel like you couldn’t go without now that you have it? No. What’s your favourite cereal? Probably Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but I like a lot of cereals. Do you prefer red wine or white wine? I don't like wine. Way too bitter. Do you read Reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like? I don't, but I've thought about lurking on a reptile husbandry one or something like that. Might learn some stuff. But at the same time, there are so many conflicting and very strong opinions amongst hobbyists to the point of awful toxicity that I'd rather not read. Have you recently broken up with a significant other or even just a friend? No. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying? God no. When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play? Probably Scrabble back when Sara visited. Do you primarily use cash or card for your purchases? Why? Cash, because I don't have a debit or credit card. Do you believe sex should be mandatory in an ongoing dating relationship? Um, no? Some people don't care for it, and that's completely fine. Have you ever recorded yourself doing a cover of a song? No. Any secrets you’d never tell anyone? No matter how close they are to you? Yes. Do you like deviled eggs? NO. FUCK that yolk shit. What career are you most interested in? I still think my first career goal, a paleontologist, would be most interesting and exciting. Like just IMAGINE discovering a new dinosaur. And it's such a job of passion - you have to be so, SO careful and invest so much time in slowly recovering it from millions of years of rock and sand and time. I can only imagine the feeling of accomplishment when an excavation is complete. Have you ever seen a rooster? Yeah? What do you think about religion? Honestly, I personally wish it had never been a thing. It's brought with it so much hatred and bigotry, but I do acknowledge at the same time it's brought great comfort and hope to some people, and that's wonderful. But just all things considered, I feel it's done more harm than good. What’s your favorite sweetheart name (baby, honey, angel, dumpling) Probably "lovely." Has a little kid ever fallen asleep on your lap before? Yes, back when I babysat my neighbor's kid once. Have you ever thrown a grenade? Yikes, no. Have you ever talked face to face with someone famous before? No. Have you ever owned a rocking horse? I don't think so? If you could meet anyone in the world who would it be? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Have you ever wished you were dead? Yes. Is it awkward when people start talking all deep around you? No, I actually like deep convos. Have you ever played the old school Pac Man arcade game? Possibly? Ever played Mario Karts on Nintendo 64? No. Have you ever been scuba diving? No. Can you surf/boogie board? No. Do you like Chinese food, Mexican food, or American food better? American. What’s your favorite thing to order from Taco Bell? Cheese quesadilla and fiesta potatos. Sometimes I get the cinnabon delight thingies, but I avoid 'em with how unhealthy they are. Do you like hot, cold, or lukewarm showers? Pretty hot. Do you like to swing? I LOVED swinging as a kid. I haven't done it in a very long time now. How about jumping on a trampoline? I loved that as a kiddo, too. I haven't done that in years. What are you favorite color eyes? Sapphire blue or like an emerald green. Do you have long arm hair? Nah, at least I don't think so. What third generation console is your favorite? PS3, Xbox 360, or Wii? I loved my PS3. I'm still so bummed mine broke. How often do you like to have sex? I'm not sexually active, but even when I was, I didn't care. Do you have a facial expression you seem to pull a lot? What is it? Not really. I think I look stoic most of the time. Do you always listen to music when you’re online? No; I usually have a let's play or something like that on that I can split my screen and watch while doing something else. If so, what are you currently listening to? I'm listening to "Love Goes On And On" by Lindsey Stirling and Amy Lee right now. Do you ever forget how to do really simple things? Like what? Yes, like how to control the laundry machine and other things like that. There's just so many options that I never, ever remember what to set it to, no matter how many times Mom shows me. That's how my memory is with most things these days, really... Were you born with naturally straight teeth? No; I needed braces. If you were the opposite gender, what name would you like to be called? Uhhh maybe Severin. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? I love both, but sour wins. What about chocolate or peanut M&M’s? I also enjoy both, but the original are better. Your favourite band: Do you prefer their old or new stuff? That's like... impossible to answer, lol. I just love everything. Do you check to make sure your ear phones are going in the right ear? No. Do you secretly still listen to Ace of Base? I have no idea who that is. Have you ever broken someone else’s bone? No, thank goodness. I'd feel awful. Is it stupid to think you can write a book at thirteen? No?????????? There are incredibly talented writers out there at young ages. Hell, I remember as a kid, I wanted to be the youngest published author way before that age. Are you ever embarrassed about what you dream about? There've been some I wouldn't share. Have you ever had sex with someone as a favor? No, and I never would. Does your mom let you date? I'm 25, my dude. She let me when I felt ready, though. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? She doesn't have one, but hypothetically, fuck no. Because that's none of my damn business, and it still wouldn't be even if we were still dating. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not have you ever come close? I've fainted once when I was a teen and have come close many other times. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in class, or how you used to before you took the class? Yeah; it was mandatory for I think one year in middle school. I type how I was taught in there. Do you find your best friend’s significant other/crush attractive? She doesn't have an s/o, and idk who her "real" crush is, as much as she'd love Frieza to be real, haha. What do you do with your clothes that don’t fit anymore or just don’t want? Donate them. Do you cut out coupons? My mom will keep some fast food ones she gets in the mail sometimes. Did you ever breathe in helium and talk funny afterwards? I think I did once at a birthday party, but I'm unsure. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? I want to be a freelance photographer so, so badly. I want to specialize in nature and wildlife, but having a boudoir studio would be great to help keep me afloat, plus I adore the art of boudoir. I've shot it once for an old friend, and by god, I loved how empowered it made her feel, especially as a plus-sized woman. She adored the pictures, and I'd just love to help other clients feel like they're gorgeous in their unique body, too. Last type of candy you ate? I had a donut from Starbuck's yesterday. Did you decorate your house for Halloween? If so, how many decorations? Did you go all out, or just put up a few things? Mom and I don't really decorate anymore. :/

[amerrierworld]

Curtain. (ii)

Carol (2015) fanfiction

Pt 1: x

Word Count: 1,874

Warnings: Swearing, but that’s it.

June - three days earlier

"We need to have any photos before the start of the run, so you have until next week to finish them. Can you do that?"

"Of course, Miss Gerhard."

"Oh, please, call me Abby. Dannie did say you were too polite for your own good. I don't bite, you know."

Therese blushed and glanced down, fiddling with the buttons on her camera as Abby led her backstage. The stage manager gave her a quick tour, and Therese scanned the premises, looking for the best angles to see the stage from the wings. The seats were empty and the lights were dim, focusing on the minimalistic set of a living room as the backdrop of the show.

"Anyways, it's an early preview so there'll probably be loads of kinks to work through as the show progresses tonight, and knowing our director, she'll probably pause the show a lot. You have free range of backstage and the seats to do as you please. The last photographer we worked with during rehearsal only showed up with blurry photos, which sent the PR team into a fit."

Therese was testing out her camera on stage, moving from the wings to the front seats as Abby gestured around. There were few workers around, cleaning and preparing for the preview of the theatre's production of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

"So! All we're asking for is some good photos of our lovely actors, the stage, and whatever tickles your fancy. It's a small show and we need all the promotion we can get," Abby continued. Therese nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek as she glanced around the theatre, taking note of the lights and seats.

After agreeing on her deadline and payment, Abby was typing in her theatre contact in Therese's phone in case anything came up, and the young photographer was quick to hurry out of the theatre, bustling with excitement for her job later that day.

-

August

"Cheers to finally being done!" Dannie exclaimed dramatically, popping open the bottle of champagne.

"Oh, stop it Dannie! I've been crying since the curtain call," Gen scolded him, whacking his arm with her purse. The actress was dressed impeccably, a silk silver dress draped around her voluptuous frame like she came straight from the silver screen. Therese felt inadequate with her simple green turtleneck and black dress pants.

"Seriously though folks. Congratulations on an incredible run," Dannie said. "I almost cried this time around. Almost."

"You sound just like old bat Gerhard, y'know," Richard stepped in, who was sitting across from Therese with a wide, arrogant posture and his arm slung over Gen's shoulders possessively. "I swear that lady has a stick the size of a tree trunk up her fuckin ass."

"Maybe she wouldn't be so uptight if someone just hit his marks," Gen said coldly. Richard's gaze darkened considerably, but all Gen did was sip her champagne, flicking auburn hair over her shoulder in that celebrity-style manner that Therese couldn't help but admire.

From what Dannie had told her, Gen and Richard had been on and off during the show, creating tension left and right. A classic backstage romance filled with just as much drama as the show they were in. Apparently it helped the actual tension needed during the performance, though that was really the only thing it was good for.

Closing night had been a huge success either way. Critics had raved about their electric performances, tiny hiccups going unnoticed by the audience. Therese was overjoyed to see her images in papers, on posters and on the theatre's website, her name printed in the corners of the photos. Gen had asked Dannie to bring Therese to their small celebration at the restaurant they were sitting in. She desperately wanted more female companionship after being surrounded by the likes of Dannie and Richard.

"Speaking of the fucking devil," Dannie commented, nodding his head to the front door of the small restaurant. Therese turned and caught the sight of Ms. Gerhard -no, Abby, she corrected herself- wearing a stunning jumpsuit. On her arm was a tall, familiar blonde beauty and Therese sucked in a breath as time slowed down for her while watching the two walk in.

Director Ross was dressed in a timeless black suit, bowtie and high heels, hair swept up in a sleek hairdo. The way they walked together was like watching power and confidence personified in the two women.

Therese took a sip of her water to help the blush that she felt creeping up her neck.

"Ah, shit, no way, why they gotta go out for dinner the same place we are?" Richard grumbled. "I really don't want to talk to them."

"Nonsense! They deserve just as much praise as we do," Gen snapped. She stood up from her seat and waved at Abby, who caught sight of the actress easily. Gen always had a way of commanding the room whenever she felt like it.

Therese felt her excitement plummet as she noted that only Abby was approaching their table. The blonde stayed back in their booth, shrugging off her blazer, revealing a crisp white button down that made Therese squirm.

"Fancy seeing you lot here," Abby said, leaning on their table. "Celebrating, I assume?"

Dannie held up the champagne and grinned. "You got that right, boss."

Therese kept her eyes fixed on her glass, afraid that by looking at Abby her gaze would give her away. Were the two a couple? No, of course not. They  were coworkers. Nothing more, right?

"Well I saw Gen and just wanted to come over and congratulate you guys. It was a terrific run, despite everything," with a pointed look at Richard, "so you deserve a well-earned night out."

The other three all responded to Abby with some sort of thanks and Therese forced herself to look up at her and smile. Her eyes were met steadily by the brunette, and though the gaze was firm, Abby smiled nonetheless.

"Good to see you again, Therese. A wonderful job on those photos, by the way."

Therese smiled, beaming proudly. "It was an honour, Abby."

What the fuck? An honour? Am I even saying coherent things? Therese tried to keep herself nonchalant and cool, though a prickling sensation on the back of her neck made her flustered. She looked around and found a pair of deep blue eyes staring back at her from the booth across the restaurant. Ross was looking at her intently, fingers grasping a martini glass. Therese felt her mouth go dry.

"I best get back, enjoy your night," Abby said and with that walked away. Therese lost contact with the blonde's eyes as Abby got back to their booth, their sudden and immediate chemistry forgotten.

Reminding herself to breathe, she tried tuning into Dannie arguing with Richard over some theatre related technicality, and she was filled with the sudden and desperate urge to abandon the three and run over to Abby and the director to hide away, just to get to know this Ross lady better.

"But hey, Terry, you're gonna come back to the theatre soon right? With your pictures and all that?" Richard's annoying voice brought her back to reality.

"Oh, I don't know," she shifted uncomfortably. "I've got a different job starting next week, so photography might be on hold for me for a while."

She chewed her lip, not wanting to say anything else. She had nothing against Dannie or Gen, but after her and Richard had broken up she tried to avoid talking to him as much as possible. In group settings, she was fine, and with their intimate circle of friends it was hard to avoid him so she didn't mind putting up with him.

But no, this job was hers. Not Richard's, Dannie's, Gen's. It was a step into a different direction for herself. And even though she told herself it was more for the pay, she couldn't help but be excited about the kids she was going to meet.

Dannie shifted the conversation to some lewd story from a theatre when he had been just starting out and Therese felt she could breathe again.

-

"Who is that girl sitting next to Dannie?"

"Therese? Oh, she was the photographer we had in just before the run, don't you remember?"

"Hmm right. I thought she seemed familiar," Carol sipped her martini slowly, eyes darting over to the petite brunette again.

"Stop it," Abby scolded.

"Stop what? I'm just getting a good look. It's been a long time since I've seen her."

"Whatever you're thinking of, Ross, you better cap it. I'll have you know she's a terrific photographer and I want to hire her again, though I won't be able to do that if my artistic director decides to... involve herself."

Carol smirked but backed down, leaning back against the seat and glancing out at the dark street, illuminated by hazy lights dancing in the fog that had spread over the city.

"You all set for September?" Abby asked. Carol's smile disappeared, her fantasies of the brunette forgotten as she looked at the year ahead.

"I have no idea, Abby. I haven't had Rindy for a full month since, well, since this whole mess started. Plus it's the beginning of the school year for her, you know how anxious that can make her."

"And you. You're always a mess when those things start up."

"Hush. At least the first week is cleared up for me, I can relax and take Rindy to school, pick her up, make her meals..."

Carol drifted off again in her non-working, stay at home mom dream that was finally happening in just over a week. Her and her daughter together without a show, without court, without fights... Bliss, she thought.

"You haven't forgotten our meeting with Jeanette though, right?" Abby asked cautiously, brows furrowing. Carol's head snapped up.

"What?"

"The meeting to finalize that you're stepping away from the theatre? C'mon, Carol."

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry Abs. I genuinely forgot." Carol whipped out her phone and hastily looked up the email Jeanette sent them. Wednesday. 3pm. At the exact time she was meant to pick up Rindy, she'd be on the other side of the city.

"Fuck," Carol groaned. "I guess I gotta get a sitter for Rindy then." God, she couldn't wait to be done work.

"Do they not have an after school program at Rindy's school? Just let her hang out there and we'll pick her up once we're done. It won't be more than an hour, Carol, I don't know if it's worth getting a sitter."

"No, you're right. I'll call them tomorrow and see what they can do," Carol sighed, putting her phone away.

Suddenly feeling the urge to check, she glanced over at the party from across the room, trying to catch a glimpse of the photographer again. She was disappointed to see that only Gen and Richard were left, who were at it with their usual banter at their table while eating. Dannie and Therese had disappeared.

"Carol," Abby warned.

"I know, I know. Sorry." Carol forced herself back to the conversation. "I'm hopeless, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are, you nitwit."

A/N: Life is insane, y’all. This story stumped me for a bit, but here I am. Hope you’re all good, let me know your thoughts <3 

[cherryyharryy]

Quiet Girl

Pairing: Harry and reader

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: None

Harry sauntered into the main campus library. It was rich in earthy woods, three stories, with an imported stained glass window that shone down from the top arch of the top floor, splaying holographic rainbows between noon and three-fifteen over the expanse of the interior each day.

The main desk was occupied by a rotation of students that, Harry was guessing, shouldn’t have nailed their jobs. They were always either in some corner of the place making out, or with their backs turned to the counter, headphones blocking out the little bell that was beaten to death by whomever was fuming on the other side.

This meant that the library really didn’t feel like a library. It had become more of a place where students would hang out. No one was quiet.

No one, except the girl who sat to the side.

Same table. Same position. Same fancy, filter water bottle.

She was always alone every time Harry had come, which was a lot recently, since all of his professors felt the need to declare five page essays or full-blown presentations for midterms.

Instead of bothering her, which he figured that’s what he’d be doing if he pulled the chair out opposite of her, he would sink into one of the leather chairs on the second floor by the windows and drown himself in his work.

                                                           ***

It was Tuesday. The weather was starting to bug Harry. Leaves were swirling across the paths he took to classes, and girls were gushing over whatever new drink Starbucks had put out. He had to start wearing sweaters which he hated, and his fingers would numb up on the days he had to make it from the math building to his psych class.

So he wasn’t in a particularly peachy mood when Danny came bustling up beside him on the way to the library, dressed in an oversized puffer coat that put a good five inches between him and anyone else.

“You’re turning into a nerd, y'know that?” Danny said.

“S'what I’m going for.”

Danny coughed out a laugh and pushed his friend, earning him a glare. He did, however, hold the massive door open and let him escape the beginning of autumn first, so Harry forgave him, kind of.

Harry tugged his beanie off and wrapped his bare hands into the fabric, rubbing away the bite of cold that’d seeped into his skin before walking up to the computer near the entrance to sign in.

“Shit, I need to start coming here. Screw Jeff’s parties. Look at that.”

Danny nudged Harry’s shoulder, nodding his head to Tiffany who was sat atop one of the student tables, her long tan legs dangling off, almost touching the floor, with a packet of paper in one hand and a strand of boxed strawberry blonde in the other. A small group of girls with equally beautiful hair and perfect skin and designer bags filled up the chairs surrounding the table.

“What about her?” Harry mused.

“What—what about her?” Danny stopped Harry in his slow pace. “Look at her!”

Harry had. He’d seen a lot. A little too much, actually. She’d shown up at his door every day for two weeks after he thought he’d made it clear there was only going to be one night between them.

And then he’d made the mistake of not looking hard enough, because if he had, he wouldn’t of done the same with Bailee, who happened to be best friends with Tiffany, which prompted the pair to target him for about a month, and well…Harry’s been more careful with whom he chooses to bring back to his dorm.

“Let’s go over here.”

“Wha—” Danny squeaked, “you serious?”

Harry rolled his eyes and made his way to the other side of the library. There were five large tables surrounded by a peninsula of books. Tiffany and co. were still visible, but far away enough for Harry to block them out.

They weren’t alone, though. The girl was in her usual spot. Her purple laptop sat propped up on one of the giant atlas books to her left, which was the angle she was always in, an assortment of paper and notebooks and flashcards lay before her, all organized in a way college students never really cared about. The, what Harry assumed to be expensive, water bottle sat to her right, half filled with a cluster of ice bobbing at the top.

Her eyes were trained on the screen, chin resting in the cradle of her palm with a slight slouch to her shoulders. A knitted black sweater covered her top half with the last sparkling effects of an air-born rainbow shining down on her.

Harry’s not sure what encouraged his feet to move in her direction, or what possessed him to pull out the chair across from her, and sit himself down, especially since she looked so at peace and clearly never engaged with whatever chaos was brewing on the other side of the room.

But he did, and Danny followed, plopping down beside him with much more noise. The girl didn’t flinch. Not when Danny’s chair squeaked against the wood floors, or when his book bag tumbled off the table and all its contents spilled out.

Not when an oh, shit!  flew out of Danny’s mouth and a for the love of God came out of Harry’s. Her hair was pulled up into its usual bun, where her ears were visibly clear of headphones. And Harry wondered for a second if she might be deaf.

“Why are we over here?” Danny grumbled as he stuffed a handful of crumbled papers into his bag. “Who the Hell is this?”

“Could you shut up for once?” Harry whispered through gritted teeth, angling his body away from the girl and glaring at his very annoying, and very loud, best friend. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know!”

Harry jerked his head back and bit into his bottom lip, one hand gripped the back of his chair, and the other dug into the edge of the table. “Shhh.”

“Oh get off it.”

With a roll of his eyes Harry slowly turned back, seeing no apparent disturbance in the girl.

She must be deaf.

He pulled his essay from his binder and found where he’d left off, nodding to Danny who sat with a slacked jaw, slumped in that damn coat with his opened bag sitting on his lap and an vacant look in his eyes.

After they finally got started on their work, Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. He at the very least needed to know how she’d been able to tune out the obnoxious whiny man-child beside him.

“Hi, uh, sorry we’re so loud.”

Without moving her head from the screen her eyes landed on his. She gave one short nod and went back to her work.

“What’s your name?”

Nothing.

Harry cleared his throat. “What are you working on?”

Nothing.

“Why don’t you sit with anyone?”

This time she turned, emotionless, and shrugged her shoulders before turning back.

Danny’s mouth upturned into a snarl, rolling his eyes at Harry. Harry shook his head and brought his attention back to his paper, opting for the welcomed silence.

                                                        ***

He wasn’t sure where she’d came from. He asked around, asked if anyone knew of a quiet (possibly deaf?) girl who sat by herself, the one he saw everyday when he’d go in to study or write, or put flash cards and to-do lists together.

But no one knew. They’d apologize and go on with their day.

So you haven’t any idea, not even a name?

No, sorry. She doesn’t ring a bell.

Maybe she was shy. Or maybe she was scared. Maybe someone was dying, or maybe she’d been hurt too much for far too long.

But that was the thing, she didn’t seem…sad. Didn’t mean she wasn’t, this was just Harry’s unprofessional and rather, careless, observation.

It didn’t take long before she started sneaking up on him. First when he’d pass the library on his way to economics, then it was when he would be in idle thought, in line at the grocery store, or waiting for the next song to buffer.

But when he woke up one morning and she’d been in his head all night, that’s when it hit him. Her eyes were bright and reminded him of summer, with the reminiscent memory of high school parties, no thanks to the electric blue bouncing off the laptop.

Her skin was pretty. A line here, a bump there. Usually etched in the same kind of concentration as his sister when she was planning her divorce.

Her bottom lip was always pulled in, tightly gripped between her teeth, and when she’d release it to bring the pricy water bottle to her mouth, there’d be marks and swelling.

Harry was something of a daydreamer. No professional, by any means, but he’s been known to drift off at times he really needed to be paying attention. So it’s not surprising, when, images of this quiet girl descending from Heaven with wings sparkling in gold entered his mind. Maybe she was an angel on duty, watching over someone.

Or perhaps mythical creatures suit her better. Yeah…she’s definitely a fairy, hailing from the deepest parts of the most luminous forest, sent here to form a peace offering so her home won’t be destroyed.

Or, mermaid? Is he really going to go there? Yes. She more than likely emerged from the salty waters, wandered around his college town on her new legs. It’d make sense…lack of vocalization, undisturbed concentration…

But of course, he must come back to reality. She’s probably just stressed. Maybe she had a boyfriend and perceived his desire to talk as something to avoid. Or maybe she’d just had surgery and her throat hurt to speak.

Maybe she was just quiet?

                                                       ***

For the next few weeks Harry found himself sitting across from the girl who didn’t talk and had a will power made of steel, in the afternoons. Danny trailed along, dividing his time up between his own class work and sliding into one of the unoccupied chairs on the other side of the room, where either Tiffany and her group had set up, or some other group of people that treated the library as some kind of lounge.

He’d asked a few more questions, all earning an unamused nod or shrug of her shoulders before he’d let whatever project he’d been stressing over swallow him up. Today it was his sociology presentation. If it wasn’t going to be the ten page report that killed him, the fifteen hours of volunteering he’d lied about doing surely would.

After an hour of fine tuning slides, he shut his laptop and pulled out a bag of jelly beans, picking around to avoid the white ones. Danny stumbled over from where he’d been barking out laughs with half a sorority house, and slid into his seat, holding his hand out and blinking at Harry.

“Why should I?”

“I give up my afternoons so you don’t have to sit here alone, that’s why.”

Harry swallowed as his lips kicked up into a smile. “Right, and you never ditch me t'sit your horny ass down over there.” He nodded to the other side and scooped a handful of candy into his mouth.

“S'not the point,” Danny argued, jerking his hand closer to the bag.

“It’s exactly the point. Whatever, here.” Harry dropped the bag into Danny’s awaiting hand.

Harry faced forward and took in a breath, giving his pointless attempts one more go. “Do you want any jelly beans?”

The girl shook her head, not even bothering to look.

“They’re the regular kind. Nine of that weird, moss flavored—”

“The Hell? There’s no fuckin’ moss flavored jelly b—”

“Shut up, Danny.”

“No thanks.”

Harry froze, questioning whether the soft whisper was real or his own imagination. “I don’t ever see you around,” he tried. She rolled her lips in and shook her head, giving him a good two seconds of eye contact. “Do you ever go to any of the parties?”

“No.”

Harry’s heart was sprinting, and his brain was spouting off question after question, wanting to spew them all out before she went on lockdown again.

“Are you writing a paper?” He nodded to her screen.

She bit her cheek, and unsurprisingly shook her head. “S'a discussion board.”

“Oh yeah, I hate those.”

They sat in silence, other than the sound of jelly beans falling from the bag and hitting Danny’s teeth, for a few minutes before Harry opened his mouth again.

“Why don’t any of your friends come here with you?”

She straightened her back and brought her full attention to Harry, stopping time for a few seconds with a blank stare before focusing back on her typing.

“Who do you hang out with here?”

And now she was back to nothing. No minuscule movement or any sign she’d been paying attention.

“Well do you—”

“S'cause she’s got no friends,” Danny snarled, “why should she?” He snatched the nearly empty bag of candy and yanked his bag off the floor before rising and sliding into the chair at the next table.

Harry reached his hands out, halting at the midway point between him and the girl, and splayed them out on the table. “He didn’t mean that.”

Her chin dropped to her chest before inching her head to face Harry, glassy eyes rimmed red with a tear dotting its way down each cheek.

“Yes he did. S'true.”

[romioneficfest]

Missing Trousers

Title: Missing Trousers

Prompt/Day: Day 2 - Pants (I changed the word to trousers, I hope it’s okay!)

Tumblr name:

Rating: M/MA

Brief summary: Hermione’s brief stint with working from home has not been going well: Ron is terrible at housework, he’s bored out of his mind, and —on top of all that— the racket he’s making as he apparently turns the house inside out is totally shattering her concentration. So when he barges into her office, determined to get her to pay some attention to him, she decides to get back at him by teasing him a little before she attempts, for what seems like the millionth time, to get back to work.

Tags: sexual touching

When Kingsley had suggested she take the papers home and sort them out there, she’d hopped onto the idea eagerly: she might be able to work better away from the bustle of the Ministry, in the quiet warmth of her own little study at home, surrounded by books and with a nice cup of tea next to her at all times, the stiff Ministry garb replaced by fuzzy socks and sweatpants… A few days back, Ministry curse-breakers had found a cave system in West Ireland, and though there hadn’t been any curses to undo or treasures to return, there’d been some unfamiliar runes scraggled across the stony wall. Bill, who’d been on the team, could only think of one person right for the job, and Kingsley had immediately agreed: and that’s how Hermione Granger —for whom, at 20, the epithet of “brightest witch her age” had never rung false—, came to be sitting in her study at home, deciphering runes that could earn her a medal from the Wizengamot.

Or so she would be, if the racket outside would stop.

In a fit of gallantry, Ron had offered to take over all of the housework they usually split so she could have time to pour into her work; however, he’d soon realized he’d bitten off more than he could chew, and was going insane with the chores and the boredom of having Hermione shut in all day long. Besides —though he’d never admit it to his face, for fear he’d tell her she sounded like his mother—, Ron may be skilled at many things, but housework just wasn’t one of them, and Hermione cringed a little every time she heard a dish break or a piece of furniture bowl over, inevitably punctuated with some of Ron’s choice swearwords.

But today it went further: all of a sudden, as she tried to pick her way back to the rune she’d left off on, the door to her study flew open with a bang. She lifted her gaze from her papers and was met with a comical sight: Ron was splayed like a star across the doorway, a wild look in his eyes, clad only in a T-shirt, knee-length socks, and green Snitch-patterned underwear: “My trousers are missing!” he bellowed.

“There’s such a thing as knocking, you know,” she quipped, and tried to dive back into her work, but he marched right up to her desk and she was forced to look up again.

“Hermione, my trousers are missing!”

“I got that the first time, thank you,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair with the resignation that there was no way she was getting work done now. “What’s the matter, Ron? Housework not sitting well with you?”

“Oh, I’ll have you know it’s going splendidly,” he huffed, and Hermione had to stifle an amused snort at how clearly false that was, “very well indeed, I think I may have found the one thing I’m better at than you. Only there’s one problem—”

“Let me guess: your trousers are missing,” said Hermione, breaking out into a grin.

Ron was hysterical: “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, but this is a serious matter! I can’t find them, and I need them!”

“Why don’t you just try a Summoning charm?”

Ron withdrew a bit, looking sheepish, and rubbed the back of his head absentmindedly as he muttered something that sounded a bit like ‘dunno where my wand is…’

“Oh my god, Ron, you’ve lost your wand too?” she cried, but she wasn’t really surprised: it wouldn’t be too far-fetched if Ron had misplaced his wand somewhere in the mess he kept creating rather than cleaning. She pushed her chair back and began getting up: “That’s it, I’m going to go help you—”

“No, no, no, no, no!” firmly yelled Ron as he hurried over to the other side of her desk and pushed her back into her chair. “As much as it pains me to admit that, yes, I may be slightly dreadful at housework —oh, get that look off your face, won’t you—” he groaned when a slight smirk of vindication drew itself across her face, “I promised you I’d do it so you could get your space to work, and Ronald Bilius Weasley is a man of his word.” He paused, feigning solemnity with a hand across his heart: “Yes, even when he’s wearing nothing but his old Quidditch underwear.” He paused, lowered his hand, and continued in a slower, deeper tone: “And yet…”

“Yes?” she said, raising her head to look him questioningly in the eye.

He paused for an instant, then said in the same sly, low voice: “It’d be nice if you’d find it in your schedule to, y'know, make some time for me…”

“Oh, Ron, I know you’re bored, but my schedule’s packed—” she was cut off by a small gasp, as she noticed Ron slowly draping his left leg around her thighs. “Ron, what are you doing?”

“Attempting to convince you,” he grinned broadly, settling comfortably now on her lap with his legs hugging her waist, his hands resting on her shoulders and his back reclined lightly against her desk. He locked his gaze with hers: “Although, of course, as you well know by now, I’m not wearing trousers,” he said, diverting his glance downward toward the green underwear —which was quickly beginning to stretch— momentarily before raising it to meet hers again, a new spark in his eyes, “but I should hardly think that’d be a dissuasive factor.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love for it to be the opposite,” Hermione purred back in the same low tone, her right hand making her way from her quill to his underwear, as she began to rub him slowly. He let out a small grunt of pleasure, and she smirked satisfiedly: “I’m sure you’d love for me to tell you that this is exactly how I want you to convince me from now on, waltzing into my office in just underwear…”

“You’re right, I’d —oh— I’d love that,” mumbled Ron between moans, which were steadily increasing in intensity and volume as she dug her hand in further, stroking and pulling lightly at his quickly-growing bulge. “Really be —ah— a boost to my —oh— a boost to my ego— oh, Merlin, Hermione,” he whimpered as she drew him closer, her left hand behind his back as the other one continued working, and leaned in to begin nipping slightly at his neck, kissing and biting alternately as her hand intensified its movements.

“Your ego, Ronald?” she laughed in between kisses, reveling in how his contented grunts seemed to punctuate her movements. “Like that needs to get any bigger…”

“Well you —uh— you know me, I’m a great —ah— I’m a great guy, I can’t deny —Merlin, Hermione, that feels so good— I can’t deny it,” he said now, almost as if he were breathing the words out, squirming and tensing contentedly on Hermione’s lap as she continued to stroke him. She pulled a little harder now, and a pleading whine burst from his lips: “Oh, Hermione, keep going, please, I’ll do anything…”

“Anything?” she teased sultrily, repeating the same pull and taking pleasure in how the whine this time seemed to be higher, harder to contain.

He trembled, struggling to get out words from the moans that now seemed to be cascading through his lips: “Anything.”

Then her hand left his crotch, she pushed her chair back and shoved him off playfully, and with a flick of her wand, sent him sliding across the study and out of it, a stunned look plastered across his face: “Then get out of my office, and let me work!”