#which i guess would e enough reason to not do the exhibition

[anandasamsara]

got an amazing, one of a kind opportunity to do a fucking EXHIBITION at a small art gallery/bar/thingy on a FRIDAY and there will be a party also, which means it might be a full house thing, and i can SELL my prints and other products...

but i gotta take 10 paying people

i dont have 10 friends who would go, who would buy tickets to my exhibition, or would want to go to a party

guess its another opportunity down the drain

[mrs-monaghan]

Kinda funny how all those years Jikook dressed alike, matching almost head to toe or in exactly the same outfit, this whole fandom wrote it off, even after RM asked them point blank if they were a couple. Then to hear when JK was watching Suchwita, ask why YM were wearing similar clothes, even tho their clothes really were nothing alike, but triggered him enough for a response, really made me laugh. I saw YM & TK shippers saying its cause he knows about YM. LMAO idiots, their clothes weren't couple clothes or matching, they were just too similar for JK's liking. Hey Suga, go try to peel off JM's leaf for him, with JK watching. I just wanna see something for research purposes. We always tease JK & Minimoni, but he also gets high key annoyed with Yoonmin, too.

Anoooooooooon why do you think JK reacted to Suchwita in the first place?? Yes JK is a Minimoni anti. That's been established. But he is also a major Yoonmin anti. Like big time and it's been going on for a long ass time. He he hee. JK is not a fan of Yoonmin moments which is why we don't talk about Yoonmin so shh

But also let's talk about Yoonmin shall we? Only because JK's dislike for their moments is underrated. No other reason 🤭🤭

Before we begin. Here is a compilation of Suga checking out the Jibooty. Tbf he does check out other members as well but....this is about Yoonmin. He hee

So! Off the top of my head exhibit A) this BBMA 2017 Live. JK did not take his eyes off Suga until he got off Jimin

First of all, there is ALOT happening on this live. Like alot. Which is why I'm not clipping the exact moment because you should absolutely watch this entire live. JK has a stronger reaction to RM being on Jimin but he also kept an eye when Suga did it 👆🏽

Exhibit B) Is my own personal theory. Remember in winter package when JK went with Yoonmin for beer tasting and gave up zip lining?

In what world would thrill seeker JK give up zip lining so he can go beer tasting? Now don't get me wrong, JK loves his liquor much like the rest of them. But still, it was kinda sus to me, alright? Could it have been satellite Jeon wanting to be with his man? Maybe. Still, knowing Jimin was gonna spend all day with Suga getting tipsy... idk. I can see JK wanting to be around for that 🤭🤭🤭

Exhibit C) incase someone missed Suga drooling during this

(Put your phone on landscape and u can zoom in and take a closer look🤭)

Exhibit D) do we really need to talk about Suga Vs Blood sweat and tears Jimin?? I'm sure we've all seen this.

Exhibit E) this segment. Jimin's letter said everyone should tell Suga they love him. Everyone did except one person..can u guess who? Even Hobi called him out. Asked JK "why didn't u say it?" 🤭🤭🤭

Exhibit F) should I include this? Coz I'm not seeing the difference here. Btwn this

And this

Moving on.

Exhibit G) (watch Jimin) Suga touches Jimin's ear and what's the first thing Jimin's does?

Also don't think JK and his grandpa clothes is not watching that through his periphery. Mans always aware of what Jimin is doing at all times.

Exhibit H) They're discussing Jimin's armpit. JK is smiling, quite big. Then Jimin asks Suga if his armpit is sexy. JK's smile is no longer anywhere to be seen 👀

Exhibit I) this was a favourite of mine. Ngl. Listen. People can deny till the cows come home. But JK reacted the way he did here for a reason. Memories 2021. JK looked away as soon as Suga touched Jimin's chin. Not before. Not after. As soon as Suga touched Jimin, JK looks away so fast I got worried about his neck there for a second. It happened. Anyone who said it didn't well... idk what to tell ya. JK has been looking away for years when something that he doesn't want to see, is happening. Especially after he got a hold of his possessiveness he started to just look away instead of acting on it. It is what it is 🤷🏽‍♀️

Last one but definitely not least is Exhibit J) this was a popular Jikook moment after this run episode aired. The thing is though... yes we gushed and we "awwed" because JK's ears moved as soon as Jimin started dancing. But you know who else's ear moved?? And he was the only one apart from JK that was affected by that 😏😏😏😏

I could do this all day guys. 😂😂

If JK is staring... so is Suga. If JK is checking out the Jibooty, so is Suga. And we have not even started on how Jimin is clearly Suga's favourite. Be it vocals, be it in general; always choosing him no matter what. And we haven't even talked about how Suga isn't big on skinship but with Jimin that doesn't seem to be a problem???

You guys think JK doesn't see what we see? Doesn't know what we know? Huh? How can he not? I mean, this was right infront of his salad 😂😂 kinda makes me wonder if he blocked Suga on purpose 🤭🤭

What I'm I saying? Even though we will never see Jimin reciprocate whatever this is, (Mans only has eyes for JK. Always has, always will) Yoonminers are the only shippers allowed to try to argue with Jikookers. Them and them only. And genuine Yoonminers. Not tkkrs who ship Yoonmin coz they wanna shove Jimin somewhere to keep him away from their ship.

Bonus: everyone is looking at Jin except Yoonkook. JK its okay, coz that's his man. But i'mma need Suga to get his shit together. Fr fr

[dayseternal-blog]

Fic Author Self Rec! When you get this reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, or some snippets from upcoming WIPS. Let’s spread the self-love! Love ya and thank you for all you do!! 💖

:D my 5 favorite fics that I've written?? okay.

"It's No Secret" - Hinata returns to Konoha after 5 years studying abroad in the Moon Kingdom. She just wants to enjoy her last year of high school as a normal girl, but blossoming love forces her to confront her future. (Rated M). - My baby fish. A high school AU for which I was really trying all different kinds of things and making all kinds of mistakes, finding my writing style. As a fanfic writer newbie, I felt so free to do whatever I wanted! Every scene for me was gripping, and I was so immersed in the world I was trying to create. It has an original, lengthy plot that I still hope to finish one day!!! I love this fic just because it was so instrumental to helping me improve. It's definitely NOT my best work, but from the first chapter to the most recently published chapter, my growth in writing is so apparent. All of the comments I got on it, even the ones that criticized, were encouraging for me and I cherish those readers who've followed my fics since then 💞

"Nightdreams" - Naruto and Hinata find comfort in each other after the war. (Rated E). - The easiest multi-chapter fic to write. Ever. Since then, I've never had quite as much fun writing a fic (I think Catskin came close). Certainly never as easy a time. "Nightdreams" had its moments of growth for me for sure, though, like the mission chapter, the argument chapter, all of the smut! It had its challenges, but the story flowed so easily, from beginning to end. I think there were only a couple of small writer's blocks. Overall, "Nightdreams" easily takes fave #2 just because it was so fun, and I think readers can tell that I really enjoyed writing it.

"Awkward Jocks" - She knows that if he were to ever ask her out, she would accept in a heartbeat. After all, he's the star quarterback and basketball player. Plus, she's liked him since...forever. But when her home phone rings, and he's on the other line, she hangs up. (Rated G). - The sweet and funny love story based off of my ex-coworker's life...bittersweet now, don't remember if I shared on Tumblr why. But I wrote this fic full of my love for her, so it takes the spot for fave #3.

"About You" - A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM. A long bus ride into and out of town. Two teens, shy beside each other. (Rated G). - One of my most personal fanfics, though many of them are super personal. This is possibly the MOST personal because it's slightly based off of my parents' stories, I set it on my home island, and I experimented with writing the dialogue in pidgin. The only reason it's not higher on my list is because I somehow feel like I didn't do as good a job on it as I would have liked. It's like, the cultural/historical details are not accurate enough for me. But this is definitely a fic I wrote for myself, and it's been a joy to see other people love it, too.

"Matcha" from "Shared Vows" - Naruto calls Hiashi "father" for the first time. (Rated T). - ooooh it was a toss-up between this one or "Finally Home" from "Shared Vows," but I decided on "Matcha" as my fave #5. I love how I framed this fic, its ending reversing the beginning, and I somehow managed to communicate exactly what I wanted to say about Naruto's new family. This fic gives me such feel-good vibes, and I'm so glad it captured the feelings I felt.

I know that my personal faves do not align with readers' personal faves. Except for maybe "Nightdreams" haha. That one is easy to love. I know people loved "White Lilies," "Friend of Mine," "Tell Me of Forevers," and "Undercover," ...those exhibit some of my best technical writing, so I'm glad readers recognized that effort! My personal faves have more sentimental value, I guess, so that's what makes them special to me.

[ellsbclls]

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

[missblissy]

Glad you're back!! Miss you! I see about your post, can I have some modern AU maybe of Human! Alastor x reader going to an aquarium? Maybe a cute date? Haha thx amazing to have you again

(( QwQ/ It's good to be back! And I would be honored to do that. I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy!!))

It was hinted with salt filling the air. Misty and warm, the summer sea winds rolled off the coast and into your hair. The Long Island sound was picture perfect, just as you remember in your childhood dreams. You were staying in a quaint little town your familly use to visiting summer after summer when you were a child. And it was the perfect place for you to bring yourself on a long over due vacation. Work had been too much to handle this past year, and now you could spend the next week relaxing on the soft sandy coastal beaches of Long Island. 

However today you had plans to take the ferry across the sound to the aquarium. Sure... you were going by yourself but... So what. You didn’t particularly have many friends, nor a partner in your life. But so what? You were an introvert natrually and a social gathering over five people where never your thing. 

You had just made it to the ferry docks. As always, you were fifteen minutes early. You couldn’t bear to be late, especially since you considered “on-time” to be late. You were sitting on a public bench facing the sound. Dozens of other people have started to gather around the same place as you. You were just about to take one of your favorite books out of our bag when someone approached you.

“Do you mind if I sit?” You saw a man standing before you. He had a pleasant smile. A soft one that just barely met his eyes. You took one second too long to peer at him.

“Uh-...” You tore your gaze from his soft brown hair and to his polished shoes. They were out of style yet he somehow managed to pull it off, “Yea-.. I mean no...! Help yourself.” You tried to return his smile but you were far more awkward about it. This man had some strange sense of fashion. He looked oddly in place, however, he seemed like he was trying to live in a time long since past. 

“Are you waiting for the ferry too?” He asked, making simple conversation to fill the void of silence. 

You glanced at him quickly a second time and made a nervous little laugh. His dark complexion matched his brown eyes hidden behind perfectly circular glasses, “Oh... yes.” You remember you had your ticket in your hand, “It shouldn't be much longer until it arrives,” 

The stranger nodded his head slowly, “Have you ever been on a ferry before?” You nodded your head to his question, “Ah, first time for me. They don’t have ferries where I’m from.” He said with a cool expression.

He seemed chatty for a stranger. Most of the time when strangers tried talking to you, you’d brush them off. But this man was lucky that you thought he was rather... stunning in the looks department. That, and he seemed rather harmless as of right now. So you indulged in his conversation, “Where are you from?” You asked. 

The man paused only slightly then turned himself to face you. He held out his left hand for you to take. You were hesitant but you still reached out, “Alastor,” He said, “I’m from New Orleans. I’m guessing you’re a local?” You wouldn’t have ever guessed that, he didn’t have any kind of southern twang or drawl to his tone.

You shooked his hand but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his question, “No, no,” You waved your hand a little, “Uh- aha... I’m (Y/N). And I’m not from here, but my family and I use to come here all the time for summer vacations.”

“Well, it’s certainly a lovely place to visit. I’m here for business though so I can’t say I’ve gotten the real experience of it all yet. Today was my day off, however, and I thought I’d go see this aquarium one of my friends keeps telling me to go to. She’s rather annoying about it, truly, spoiled even and quite the nagging little thing. But she is my friend after all and I’d rather not deal with the consequences of not listening to her.” 

There was a moment there went you felt your heart stop for a minute, “That’s... really ironic.” You said slowly.

“Oh? You have a bossy friend too?” He jested with a smile. 

You laughed for a second then shook your head, “No, I mean that it’s ironic that you’re going to the aquarium,” You paused for a second then reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. You showed Alastor and said, “I’m going too.” 

He peered at the e-ticket on your phone, the pushed his glasses up on his nose with a deep laugh, “What a small world!” He laughed, then laughed some more, “How truly ironic indeed!” Then without a second to waste, he faced you once again then asked, “Would you like to go together?”

The question startled you. You didn’t expect that. He was very bold, wasn’t he? You had only just met and he was asking to spend probably what would be the rest of the day with you. You were flustered suddenly, then you were tongue-tied, lastly, you cracked your voice as you answered, “S-Sure! Yea- um--....” You felt your cheeks turn a little pink, “Sorry. It’s just... That was unexpected.” Just as you said that the loud horn of the ferry screamed as it pulled into the docks. 

Alastor stood up while smiling down to you, “Life wouldn’t be life if what you expected happened all the time.” 

He then held out his hand, offering to help you up from the bench. You took a moment, sitting there and taking everything in for what it was. Alastor stood before you, looking as though he was some kind of mathematician, or professor, now that you got a good look at him. His red tie was tucked behind a brown sweater vest that stopped just shy of his belt. His hand was offered to you, while the wind dusted his brown hair around in the breeze. And that smile on his face, it was soft yet firm enough to show that he was pleased to help you up. 

So you decided then... why the hell not? He was right, life wouldn’t be the same if it was exactly like what you expected. You took Alastor’s hand and pulled yourself to your feet. The two of you chatted while boarding the ferry, and then stood beside each other while leaning along the guard rails of the top deck.

The both of you talked about all kinds of things. You found out that Alastor was some kind of internet personality, not really. He had a podcast he ran and owned with some friends of his. It was apparently very popular and well known, though not that well known because you’ve never heard of it before. And to say that didn’t hurt Alastor’s ego a little would have been a lie. Apparently, Alastor also had a strong taste for liquor, because at one point he went to the ferry’s indoor bar and came back with two rum on the rocks.

You told him it was only noon, to which he replied, “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” And laughed before taking a sip of his drink. You decided to have the one he got you and told yourself it’d only be one which Alastor stayed true to. He didn’t wander off for another drink once he finished the one he had. There was another point that you learned that Alastor had the habit of ignoring his phone, to the instance where he got annoyed with it and turned it off. It seemed he only wanted to focus on talking to you and listening to what you had to say.

Alastor and you talked the whole ferry ride, which was just under an hour long. And when you docked, you both walked side by side down the three and a half blocks to the aquarium. It wasn’t a massive place, but it was a good size with a decent amount of animals. You originally came here with the idea of looking for inspiration within sea life. For you were an author, after all, writing stories for a living came with its ups and downs. For instance, right now, your much-needed vacation wasn’t really a vacation. The current book you were working on took place in late century seaside town, much like this one. And you had run into the worse possible writer’s block you’ve ever been in. 

As you and Alastor had finished passing the entry gates and showing your tickets, you wondered why Alastor would want to come here with you. Maybe because he realized how terribly awkward it would be if you continued to cross paths all day. You also thought about how you wouldn't be able to focus on working with him around now. You also didn’t really want to out yourself, or your current story. 

But that would soon be unavoidable. You and Alastor had just made it to the open exhibits of the aquarium. You had stopped on an old wooden bridge to briefly look out at a beautiful koi pond. Alastor leaned over slightly while resting his arms on the bridge railing. He had a soft smile that was barely on his lips, “This one oddly reminds me of home,” He sighed. 

You learned along the railing as well, looking over the swampy like pond. It lily pads all over, with a dark green water filled with dead trees and moss. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear the bullfrogs chirping away. Seeing it gave your a sudden surge of inspiration. Something about it made you get several ideas for your book. You couldn’t let them slip away, so you reached into your bag and grabbed your notebook.

While you became lost in your own world, scribbling down idea after idea, Alastor quietly watched you. It wasn’t in a way that you noticed, because he’d only take a side glance here or there. But after a moment or so, he finally asked, “Forgot something to add to your grocery list?” 

It was meant to be a joke but it went right over your head (Mush to Alastor’s dismay).

“O-oh..” You then laughed weakly, “No... It’s for a story I’m working on.” 

Alastor turned to face you slightly while still leaning on the rail, “Oh, like an author?”

You took a dry swallow then glanced away and shrugged, “Yea,” You didn’t want to egg him on. But of course, he asked anyways. 

“Are you published?” He seemed genuinely interested. Yet there was a reason you wanted to avoid it. Oftentimes when you told people about your books, the general reception wasn't that good. There was a reason you wrote under a pen name. 

However, Alastor wasn’t from around here, and you weren’t on New York Time’s Best Selling List yet, and probably never would be. So there was a chance he wouldn’t know or ever heard of your books. 

So you took the chance and said, “Yeah. I’m the author of Sea Rise.”

“Oooh,” Shit. “That book series about the pirates?” Dammit. 

You felt your cheeks burn as you took in a deep breath and nodded your head, “You’ve heard of them?” You wouldn’t look at him though. You just kept your gaze on some turtle resting on a log. 

“Yeah, never read them,” He gave a slight chuckle, “But the girl I work with-”

“You said her name is Charlie, right?”

“Yes- Well, she reads ‘em. She’s a big fan. I’m under the assumption that it’s about fictional pirates?” 

You took in a small breath then sighed, “Pretty much. It’s... not that amazing or anything. It’s okay.” You noticed that Alastor pushed off the rail and started to walk again, but slower this time.

“Tell me about it.” His words surprised you enough to look at him with a shocked expression. He laughed at you while giving a small wave of his hand, “Only if you want to. I’m sure you can’t talk much about spoilers.”

You blinked, then let out a shaky laugh, “I-I don’t know. It’s... A long story. This is for my fourth installation.”

He hummed with a slight chuckle, “Well it’s a good thing there is a snack bar over there.” He pointed to one not that far away, “And plenty of places to sit too.” 

There was something that flickered around in your chest. You felt butterflies you always wrote about in your stories. You peered at Alastor finding it hard to stare at his face. You glanced up from his shoes and got caught in that tilt in his smirk. Heat ran to your cheeks and spread across your nose, you gave a sharp nod of your head then awkwardly stuttered out, “O-okay!” With maybe a little too much excitement. Who knew that today, of all days... You’d run into someone like him. 

[theonewiththefanfics]

Heartbreak For A Gift (Part 1/?)

Synopsis: Sometimes relationships start off like love stories in books. And sometimes they fall apart in a minute.

(Kind of an AU! I guess??)

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst bruh

Warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, but nothing else that I can remember. Minimal editing

Word count: 2547

A/N: Please note I don’t know what the situation is between Harry and Olivia, if it’s a stunt or they’re actually dating. Whatever the case do not harass them. This is fiction and only for the purposes of the story. If they’re actually together - GOOD FOR THEM!!! No one is entitled to other people’s private lives!

Can be read as a one-shot if ya want, but I might turn this into a very small series cause I already have ideas as to where to go further with this, so hit me up if that’s what you’d like :)

If you know you’re a part of my tag list and see you’ve been crossed out, it means I can’t tag you for whatever reason. If you still would like to be a part of my tags please message me with your previous username and updated so I can update my lists :)

When she’d first said yes to going out with Harry, she’d had zero ideas as to who he really was. Well, that was a lie, she obviously knew of him, it’s not like she completely lived under a rock, and she’d seen a couple of his interviews, but 'One Direction' or Harry Styles as a solo artist hadn’t been that big of parts of her life, so she didn’t really care much for it.        They’d met at a bookstore on a sunny day in London. That’d been a good day. Her boss had let her go home a bit earlier than usual, the weather was warm, but not it’s-so-warm-I’m-sweating-my-ass-off kind of warm, sunglasses covering her eyes and hair free as the warm summer winds blew through her locks she was walking beside the Thames on her way inside the heart of the city.        Because she had a little bit more free time, she decided to pop into Waterstones, which was generally not a good idea for Y/N to do if she had things in store for the day; this time she could spend the rest of the evening if she wanted to, browsing books and living her best life.        Surprisingly for London, that particular Waterstones, even though it was in a densely populated area, was pretty empty, so Y/N felt free to skim through the options without having to press through a crowd of people to find the next section.        As she scanned what the shelves of New-Adult fiction offered, a man also came to look at the books. He stayed a bit further away, but he was certainly someone who caught people’s attention with the bright green daisy-print covered T-shirt, chequered shorts and the three scrunchies on his wrist.        The thing was as much as he’d grabbed Y/N's attention, she was more interested in the Waterstones exclusive edition of a book she’d been dying to buy, so when she saw it just sitting on the shelf, a small gasp escaped her lips.        Two eyes were immediately on her, and Y/N could feel them slip back onto her form from time to time as she greedily paged through the book, but she couldn’t say her own Y/E/C eyes didn’t flit over to the man as well.        He had a small bun on the top of his head, curly hair pushed away from the face, cheekbones for days, which were shaved and smooth and perfectly groomed brows arching over what seemed to be green orbs which were looking at the spine of a crime book way too intensely for it to be genuine interest. All in all, his side profile would be that of one of the characters Y/N’d simp over in a book, let alone the nails painted all colours of the rainbow which made her happy because nothing was better to see someone sticking it to the patriarchy.        But their little meet-cute was interrupted as an employee apologised while he tried to squeeze past them with a giant cart filled with new release books, and almost like a lost puppy, she started to follow the stacks of books when a hand on her shoulder made her spin around only to be faced with the man. She instantly recognised his face, but, at the same time, couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so familiar.

       “Sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “But you left this behind.”        And in his hands was the Waterstones exclusive.        Y/N’s eyes widened as she gingerly took it from him. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got no idea how I let it out of my fingers.”        He chuckled, motioning with his chin to the employee disappearing by the corner. “I’d say you got distracted.”        “Yeah, a little.” She bit her lip and drummed her nails against the cover of the book. “Well, uh… thank you. For not grabbing it for yourself.”        But he just lifted his hand. “More of a Murakami kind of a man.”        “Yes, well, I,” she nodded towards the book in her own hand, “like to read about people living out my dreams.”        He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a murder mystery.”        “Your point?”        “Would you say I have issues then if I wanted to ask you out on a date?”        Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, but he looked so nervous, so genuinely open and almost scared, she couldn’t feel any ill intentions from him, so she tapped her chin a bit as if contemplating before saying, “No. I’d say you have good taste actually.’        The relieved laugh he let out made him seem even prettier than Y/N already thought he was.        He extended his palm towards her, swaying on the balls of his feet a bit. “ ‘M Harry. Would probably be proper to know my name before we go anywhere further.”        “Y/N.” She smiled and clasped his hand in hers. “And it would probably be proper to know I was kidding about the whole ‘watching others live out my dreams’. People living out my dreams are actually in the books having hot sex with Fae.”        His laughter was loud and sudden, making Y/N duck down like she was in her Uni library and the librarians would come and shush them. But now, almost two years later since they’d first met, there was no sign of those butterflies she’d felt in the middle of the thriller section of Waterstones. Now Y/N was sitting by a large table, body slowly numbing as was her mind to keep the pain from her heart spreading. Whatever Jeff was talking about now, she didn’t hear. There were eyes on her, had to be to gauge her reaction, but they wouldn’t get anything more than slightly parted lips and a blank stare turned towards the marbled top.        She knew Harry was nervous; from her peripheral vision, she saw his thumb scraping at the rest of his nail lacquer, chips of pastel yellow and green polish flaking off and floating to the carpeted floor.        Y/N didn’t like LA. She’d never wanted to go there. Maybe as a tourist for a couple of weeks sometime down the line, but because of Harry and his commitment to ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’ and because he’d basically pleaded with her for days on end, she’d agreed to move there with him for the time he was shooting the movie.        It’s not that the city wasn’t beautiful. The sun, the sea, the greenery surrounding her was absolutely breath-taking, but it was the people that she didn’t really mesh with. Sure, she knew dating Harry came with a lot of what LA’s society was like. The need to look absolutely physically perfect to match the unachievable barbie standard, the fake niceness people usually exhibited just to get something for themselves or possibly raise them higher on the popularity scale, but Harry had always wiped away those doubts. But now all of that seemed like one big lie. He’d told her he didn’t care for any of it, not when it concerned Y/N nor when it concerned himself. But the contract in front of them said something different.        A hand touched her back. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice was tentative, wavering at the end of her name.        For the first time since the proposal had been thrown out, she lifted her eyes to look around at the people in the room.        Harry, Jeff, both their attorneys and Olivia Wilde and her attorney. The other woman, once their gazes met, immediately looked away. Y/N wanted to scoff at that.        “What…” Harry gulped, brushing a hand across her back. She’d never flinched away from him, but this time she did. Harry visibly shrunk in his seat and pulled back. “What do you think?”        What did she think? Well, she was thinking a lot of things, and the urge to say all of them was immense, but instead Y/N bit down on her tongue, reaching for the legal papers in front of her and skimmed through them.        She’d read each and every word as they’d been read out loud by the attorney, and every letter had been burned into her brain now. There was no way to get them out from her mind, and they’d haunt her forever.        “The fact that you’re asking me what I think of it already means you’re considering this.” Surprisingly enough, her voice was steady even though she was on the verge of collapsing after everything. “So, I’ll make this really easy for you – do it. Because, from now on, you’re a single man and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”        Harry’s face paled immediately at her words, hand moving to grasp Y/N’s, but they were in a tight ball in her lap, not moving an inch at his touch.        “Y/N, please.” Olivia was the one reaching out now, a pained and terrified look on her face, but the girl just stood up from her chair and went to the coat rack taking her coat and the bag that was discarded by it.        “No, you asked what I thought.” Tears had started to form in her eyes while she shrugged on her jacket. “This is what I think. If you even for a second assumed I’d be alright with this shitty stunt, Harry, then through the last two years we've spent together, you’ve learned nothing about me, and to me, it means it’s not worth it.”        Harry was now standing, desperate to touch her face, but Y/N once again pulled away.         “You two,” Y/N said pointing between Olivia and Harry, their faces twins of fear and regret. “Have never needed publicity. Not like this, so don’t try and bullshit me that this will make great promo for the movie. There are so many other ways you could drum up interest, but this…” She let out an unamused chuckle. “How could you think I’d be okay with you pretending to be in a relationship with someone else?”        “No, please… just hear us out. You don’t know what it’s like.” Harry tried to plead, hands in his hair, but it was the wrong thing to say, as she took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.          But Y/N was calm, and with how rigid Harry became he knew he’d fucked up more than before.        “I don’t understand?" she breathed. “The number of things and events I’ve said ‘no’ to… the…” Her voice was as still as the sea before a storm as she took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Harry wants Y/N there for the opening of his tour, so Y/N drops everything and flies out even though she misses a presentation that could have her up for a promotion. Harry doesn’t want to be seen walking inside a club with someone, so Y/N goes to the back entrance to save his face. Harry is tired and just wants to sleep, so Y/N passes on her friends’ birthdays because he wants cuddles. What Harry wants, Y/N does. And I did. I did all that happily while keeping our relationship private while snaking in and out through back doors like I was some dirty secret of yours just so you could keep the illusion you’re single…” Y/N shook her head. “I think I understand very well… But now… it’s my turn, my time to ask of you something.”        “Anything,” he pleaded, probably thinking that Y/N was going to ask him not to go with Jeff’s stunt, and he’d gladly tell them all to fuck off if it meant her staying. “I’ll do anything.”        “Let me go.”        If Harry’s heart hadn’t been in his chest you would’ve been able to hear it break as it smashed against the floor.        “Let me go,” she repeated. “And don’t come after me. Because I won’t take any part in this.”        “But –,” he was choking on his words. “But I don’t want to. I love you; I can’t just let you walk away like that. I won’t do it, none of this is worth it.”        “And I didn’t want to do a lot of things, especially sit in a meeting on Valentine’s day where my boyfriend was talking about faking a relationship to promote a fucking movie, but here we are.”        This time when he reached out to cup her cheek, Y/N let him. “Please. I swear I won’t do it, just please let’s talk about this. Don’t give up on me.”        But she was unwavering. “For the rest of our relationship, however long that might’ve been, I would’ve wondered if you hated me if you despised me for not agreeing to go with it if the movie didn’t do as well as your management predicts it will with this. And I won’t have that. I won’t be in a relationship where every second will be spent in doubt that I’m stifling your career and you could potentially resent me.”        “I could never hate you.”        “Yeah.” She let out a sob. “You actually claim to love me but would be willing to put me through that kind of fuckery, so something has to be a lie.”        Without looking at anyone else in the office, Y/N stepped away from the man who once made her feel like she could conquer the top of the world and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to take a step outside when the voice of the person she never wanted to hear from called after her, and although Y/N had been calm and collected, she snapped at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Jeff,” she snarled. “It’s not like I can talk about anything that happened here. You made sure of it. Smart move, by the way, I’d say you should continue it. NDAs right before any meeting… I guess that’s how you keep your clients' careers spotless, so your stunt won’t be exposed.”        The way she whipped around to move towards the door would’ve given her whiplash, if not for Harry standing in front of her, arms weaving around to keep her in place.        “I’m sorry." He was verging on hysterics. "Please just… please Y/N don’t…”        It seemed like he no longer even understood what he was pleading for. For Y/N to not break up? To not leave the room? LA? All he knew was that if he let her walk out of the door, he’d never see her again, and she’d make sure of it.        “No, Harry, I think I actually will, because the thought of being in the same city as you, is going to make me throw up right now,” Y/N said eyes not daring to meet his, because if she did, she'd break and her resolve would dissipate. “Besides, you have loads of things to talk about. By the time you get back, I’ll have my stuff out of the hotel. And Jeff?”        His manager looked sheepish as she glanced at Y/N.        “The least you owe me is a ticket back home. The first flight you can find.”        He didn’t answer, just nodded. She didn't deign to thank him.        “Happy fucking Valentines to you two.” She looked at Olivia and Harry, who was breaking apart at the seams, but no longer could she find it in herself to care. He didn’t care enough about her anyway. “Hope you have a very happy relationship.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m (kinda?) back? I guess. I dunno. I’m in this weird place where I’m writing my books and then I get inspo for fics and I start writing them, but can’t seem to finish them so I dunno :D

P.S. what did ya think?

P.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms (Wattpad Ao3 etc without specific written permission)

P.S.S.S. my tags are always open :)

[asuka--langley--soryu]

If you haven't already, could you expand more on the "Asuka's a lesbian" theory? I've seen people say it and I think it seems reasonable, but I haven't found anyone actually explain their thought process.

calling it a theory makes it seem a little more serious than it is, i think. more or less its just that a lot of asuka’s characterization resonates with the experiences of gay women (which i am using broadly, tho i do specifically think asuka is a lesbian), especially in regards to alienation from womanhood/women and compulsive heterosexuality. 

 basically, she exhibits literally no genuine affection for men but feels like she has to imitate heterosexuality (ie kissing shinji), she chooses kaji as a man to fixate on bc he is inherently unavailable, rejects all of the boys at her school and leaves her date early bc she can’t simulate interest in them, and mentions a few times how the idea of being in a relationship or having sex with a man disgusts and disturbs her. the only person she is even remotely close to is hikari and, emotionally, really the only person who seems to have an understanding of her and vice versa is rei (who she has a kind of classic baby gay obsession-rivalry thing with, which i will talk about in my eventual asuka/rei post lol). these are all things that mirror the actual experiences of young wlw p closely, which is why hc-ing asuka as a lesbian is popular. 

probably this kind of thing is more difficult for non-wlw to understand bc there isnt the sort of obvious gesturing to same sex attraction like w maya or kaworu or w/e. even though, for me, asuka is a much more accurate depiction of my experiences as a lesbian than maya. but if youre not a gay woman youre probably not well versed in their experiences and commonalities beyond like.....being attracted to girls--for a lot of reasons, obvi, one of which being that gay women arent often depicted in realistic ways so like.... how would you know what actions/emotions are signals or flags. 

then again, of course, how many ‘true lives of real and nonsexy lesbians’ stories is any given cishet person (and, to a point, non-wlw people in general) really intaking--esp w the goal of gaining this understanding so that you can approach media with an actual metric for judging whether or not a character may be gay without them having to be like ‘i literally love women/men’ (and even then like... look at fucking kaworu). im not kind enough to really give people the benefit of the doubt, i guess, but either way the difficulty in this kind of thing is that it’s all based in reading actions and expressions that feel inherent to the gay experience as therefore representative of gayness. and also being willing to accept the presence of gayness as something not necessitating textual confirmation--which is, for way too many fucking people, where the problem lies. 

its a bit of a dead horse but really the idea of like having to prove a sexuality for a character who has no stated sexuality is rooted in the presumption of heterosexuality as not only a neutral category but an inherent one. like, if we are to remove something from the default set there needs to be a given reason and evidence, a detailed claim of divergence, and what counts as acceptable is ever shifting and impossible. there isnt a like....homosexual scientific method or kinsey scale conditional proof system and, even if there was, people probably still wouldn’t believe it. 

basically what im trying to say is that if a lot of lesbians say ‘i think this character is a lesbian’ it might be best to just believe them. 

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers Zero Vol. 12 Azusa Mukami [Track 1]

Original title: 串刺しの蝶たち

Source: Diabolik Lovers Zero Vol. 12 Azusa Mukami [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kishio Daisuke

Translator’s note: The second to last Zero CD I have to translate before completing the entire series, wooh~! I know Azusa isn’t a very popular character within the fandom, but I actually have a huge soft spot for him after translating his Eternal Blood CD. ;w; He is just such a cutie at times, it warms my heart. Hearing his ‘clone’ talk regularly completely threw me off though! He sounds so different, but in a good way! I kind of wish Azusa would start talking a little faster himself but I suppose that’s part of the charm of his character?

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 1: Pinned Butterflies

*Creaaaaak*

*THUD*

The two of you step inside the museum.

“It’s really...pouring outside, huh?”

You nod.

“I’m glad we just so happened...to pass by a place where we can take shelter from the rain...If not, we might have ended up...wandering through the forest while sopping wet...However, if we return home late...Ruki and the others will...get worried. I wonder if we should have just...headed straight home after finishing our errand?”

You frown. 

“It has been a while since we visited the Demon World...So we just wanted to make a little detour, right...?”

*CRASH*

You flinch at the thunder.

“...Oh. It struck closeby...With the weather like this...It seems smart to stay here...until the rain lifts...”

You agree.

“We’ll end up returning home late but...Let’s stay here just a little longer? Then after we’re back...We can apologize to everyone. I’m sure they’ll understand...If we explain.”

You nod.

“Mmh. I suppose we can kill some time...inside this building?”

Azusa starts looking around.

“Hm...But...I didn’t expect to find a museum around here...Seems like we are the only visitors though...Furthermore...Oh. What an impressive amount of portraits...Several people are portrayed...Seeing them all lined up next to each other like this...makes me a little anxious.”

You tell him it’s a little creepy.

“Mmh. I’m sure they would have made for nice paintings...if only their expressions were a little more bright...But they all seem to be suffering. ...That large canvas over there...The man on it looks sad, don’t you think? I wonder if he...went through a painful experience? ...This museum is kinda...weird.”

*CRASH*

“Ah...! ...Ah, are you okay? ...The thunder is a little scary here, don’t you think? It said on the guide map that there’s a basement floor as well...So should we move there?”

*TIMESKIP*

You have arrived in the basement.

“Just as I thought...We can’t hear the thunder down here...It’s less illuminated than the earlier floor but...It seems comfortable to stay at.”

Azusa comes to a halt.

“Oh. A door. I wonder what room this is...?”

He opens the door.

*Creaaaak*

“Woah...It’s so spacious...There’s a bunch of glass cases...Are they exhibiting something, perhaps...? ...Oh! There’s a lot of...insects. They all look like...specimen.”

You get scared, hiding behind Azusa.

*Rustle*

“Oh? What’s wrong...? No need to hide...They can’t move, so it’s fine...”

You still seem worried.

“Hm...There’s a lot of species from the Demon World but...I can spot some insects which exist in the human world as well...Ah! This! These are the bugs which devastated Yuma’s garden in the past...They ate the vegetables Yuma had been carefully growing...It was quite the fiasco...Me and Kou had to help him get rid of the bugs as well...Fufu~ Brings back memories...”

The two of you continue looking around.

“...Oh. Now that I got a better look, they’re displayed all over the walls as well. I wonder if that...large insect the size of a cushion is...real?”

You get scared again.

“...Oh. Ah...Huh? Your complexion looks...pale?”

You explain. 

“Ah...I’m sorry. I guess these are scary to you...even if they can’t move? Yet I failed to notice...Shall we leave this room now?”

You try and act tough. 

“You don’t look okay...No need to push yourself...Okay?”

*Rustle*

“Your body is...shaking. Hey, come here.”

Azusa pulls you close.

*Rustle rustle*

“I’m sure you’ll calm down in my embrace...In no time...”

He starts stroking your head.

“There, there...Everything will be okay...I’m with you...after all...”

You smile. 

“Mmh. I’m glad you seem a little more...relaxed. Ah...But you’re still a little tense...I wonder if we should touch each other more...?”

He cups your cheek.

“Whenever you do this to me...I always feel really relieved...So I figured you might feel the same...How is it?”

You tell him it feels nice.

“Fufu~ I’m glad...Then, next up...Mmh.”

*Smooch*

You get flustered.

“Hehe~ You twitched just now...Hm. Seems like you’re gradually relaxing...Also the scent of your blood...has grown sweeter. Does it feel...good, perhaps? Oh. Right. If you feel good, you’ll no longer be bothered by the specimen, right...?”

*Rustle*

“Say...I’ll suck your blood. If I do that, you don’t have to worry about a thing...”

You seem a little worried. 

“Don’t worry...Leave it to me. Mmh...”

Azusa bites you.

*Gulp*

*Sluuuurp*

“Haah...Mmh...Your blood is...extremely delicious. Say, do you feel good now?”

You don’t respond.

“What’s the matter? Was this...simply not enough? Hm...Hehe. However, you’re enraptured. Your cheeks are flushed and...you’ve got that dreamy look in your eyes. Haah...I wonder why you are this cute?”

You quickly cover your face with both hands.

“Oh...Why would you hide your face? I want to...see it.”

You explain.

“It’s...embarrassing? Hm...There’s really no reason to conceal it though. But...If you don’t want to, I won’t force you...You can keep your hands there, okay? I’ll suck your blood from here...”

He bites you again.

*Sluuuuurp*

“...Haah...Such sweet noises...Even though you said it’s embarrassing...You actually wanted me to do this...right? Hehe. I’ll bite other places too...”

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

“Mmh...Hah...Haah...Oh. You no longer...need to hide your face? Has your mind...gone blank?”

You nod.

“Fufu~ I’m glad that’s the case. ...Your body has...stopped shivering as well, it seems...I wanted to do this for your sake but...I ended up getting a little too into it as well. Hm...The wounds aren’t deep so I’m sure the bleeding has stopped already...”

Azusa takes a deep breath.

“The whole room’s filled with the scent of blood now, huh...? It might be good that there’s...no other Vampires here. If someone else was around, it might have lead to trouーー”

A sudden gust of wind can be heard.

“O-Oh...? Ah...What was that just now...? The sound of the wind...? It kind of sounded like someone...crying?”

You tell Azusa you don’t like being here.

“...M-Mmh...Guess we should take our leave soon...? It might have...stopped raining by now. Let’s head back up.”

*TIMESKIP*

*Creaaaak*

“Ugh...Oh? Huh? We ended up in a...different room? Did we take...a wrong turn?”

Azusa steps into the room.

“It’s better lit than the other rooms...There’s a canvas and art supplies...Everything’s all over the place. ...Seems like this isn’t an exhibition room. There’s no specimen either, so don’t worry. Say...This might be a working space? Oh...If that’s the case...We might get scolded for entering without permission, right? Let’s quickly leave. It’d be troublesome if...we were to stain something important...”

He bumps into something while turning around.

*Thud*

*Flip*

“...Aah! Oh...I dropped them...S-Sorry...!”

Azusa kneels down to pick up the papers and so do you.

“Ah...Thank you for helping me...”

The two of you pick up the drawings.

“I guess we’ve got them all now...?”

*Flip*

“Oh...These were drawn with...pencil, I suppose? What a beautiful person...It’s the same woman portrayed on all of them. I’m sure she was...someone very important.”

T/N: From this point onwards, I will be putting fake Azusa’s dialogue between ( ) and changing the font to bolded italics. This CD has both the real and the fake Azusa interacting with you and each other, so hopefully that will make it a bit easier to tell them apart.

( Exactly. She was important. )

“...E-Eh?”

( To me, she was irreplaceable.... )

“...!? W-Who are you...? Where are you...!?”

( Right here. Look at the wall. )

“Oh? ...Huh? My...portrait? Are you the one...who talked just now?”

( That’s right. Nice to meet you, dear visitors. Ah. I suppose it would be rude to introduce myself from within the canvas. )

The fake Azusa steps out of the frame.

( ...Uhm, let me greet you one more time. Nice to meet you, dear visitors. Welcome to the museum. )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[h2bakugou]

Hey! I was wondering if you could write about the reader with Jean Grey powers (xmen) who keeps to herself until the bakusquad decide to recruit her? Then after hanging with them the reader opens up and bakugou starts to have feelings for her and confesses? Thank youuu

a/n: hiya! of course! i haven’t seen xmen in a minute oof i should rewatch them. thank you for the request hun!

summary: after watching you in action and then sulk off to your room alone, bakugou and the bakusquad get tired of seeing you alone so they decide to recruit you, but bakugou’s feelings for you only get stronger

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / powerful psychic abilities -  your quirk; for more info on this, you can look at the jean grey wiki page

warnings: swearing, fluff

wordcount: 1.5k

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

Watching you in action was riveting. You had immense power, power Bakugou hadn’t seen in a while. It was an unusual power. After seeing All Might and other pro heroes fight, comparing you to them felt a little pathetic, not that the way they fought was weak, but you exhibited power from not just strength, but with emotion, with your mind, with your body.

You were unique in so many ways. From the way your hair seemed to turn to fire when using your quirk, to the way you’d manipulate the energy around you to fight.

It was even more impressive seeing you fly form your amazing control of telekinesis.

But he couldn’t understand you. The more he tried, the more he hurt his brain trying to figure you out. Even Kaminari didn’t make his head hurt this much.

You were a book, with thousands of pages if not more. But you were so shut off, closed in. You didn’t even talk to Midoriya which Bakugou thought everyone did.

The only time you ever talked to anyone was when you were spoken too. You opted to stay to yourself, but Bakugou was tired of seeing you this way. Why didn’t you have friends? Or maybe you did and they just didn’t go here.

Whatever the case was, Bakugou was going to get you to be his friend, and for the first time, Bakugou was going to put forth the effort in making the friendship.

“Oh hey bro!” Kaminari slung his arm around Bakugou as he sat down on the couch.

“Shut it Dunceface.” Bakugou waited for the rest of his quote on quote ‘squad’ to show up. And when they had, he began to speak.

“We’re inviting another person to the group.” Bakugou didn’t mention them as a group a lot. But he was serious. And he didn’t care about his pride for two seconds, those tow seconds being right now.

“Oh, Bakugou went and got a heart!” Sero joked. 

“(Y/n).” Bakugou spoke, turning around to look at you sitting at a table reading a book.

You lifted your head and looked at him, confusion written on your features.

“He wants you to join our group! Come on!” Kirishima says with a smile. You can feel heat rise to your face, it’s not an intense blush but it’s happening.

Cautiously you stand and walk over to the group, your closed book in your hand.

“Uhm thanks.” You thank them for inviting them over to their group.

“We’ve never really talked, tell us about yourself!” Mina is excited to actually hear you talk.

“Well uh my name is (F/n) (L/n) and I like to read sometimes.” You sit down beside Bakugou, who had taken a seat when you walked over.

Bakugou’s head was swarming with all sorts of feelings. You were warm, you radiated energy and heat. He could feel how powerful you were just by sitting beside you.

- - -

Shortly after talking with the group, you’d opened up a bit and you were, for the first time in a while, comfortable with a group of people that you could call friends.

It wasn’t like you isolated yourself on purpose, you just never made the executive decision to make friends. You were here to learn, you didn’t really see a point in it, at the time, but now, having talked with the Bakusquad, you’d clearly missed out. Life was so much better when you weren't spending it alone moping in your room wishing you could make friends super easily.

Over the course of a week or two, you’d began to eat lunch with them, opting to hang out after training and class, and even spending time with Mina to do some girl stuff and sleepover things.

But it was Bakugou who you’d grown somewhat closer too. He would train with you, one on one. You’d spar and often ask to be partnered up in class activities.

You’d gone out on a walk with Bakugou, heading off campus before curfew.

“It’s weird being off campus.” You sat on a swing, you’d come to a park that was nearby, while Bakugou approached the one beside you.

“We do everything on campus, but I guess it is called school for a reason.” You joke, pushing back off the ground so you could swing forward a bit.

“Why’d you invite me to your group?” You questioned, curious about why it was Bakugou who made the big decision on recruiting you.

“I was tired of seeing you all alone. You clearly have skill so you should be making friends and shit.” Bakugou pouted, he hated being open, or merely he hated expressing feelings that made others think he was all soft and shit.

He was, to an extent that he’d only let people, the people who were really close to him, see those feelings and that side of him.

“I always struggled to make friends.” You began, deciding to open up to Bakugou. It seemed fair since this was clearly not the norm for him.

Bakugou’s head turned to look at you, he could read you like a book now, you’d pulled back the cover and all your pages were showing.

“I was just always focused on training and controlling my quirk. It’s always been super tough, and when it gets out of control I could really hurt someone. I never wanted to lose control and hurt the people around me, the people that I cared about.”

Bakugou knew what that was like. He had an explosion quirk, danger was always prominent, he could easily hurt someone if he got too angry.

“So I pushed everyone away, you can’t hurt people if you never surround yourself with them, right?” You try to crack a joke at the situation, but your failed attempt just makes you sigh.

“So when you were willing to invite me to your group, I didn’t know what to do, it was hard, but you just opened your arms and accepted me. I guess that’s why I gravitated to you so much, because you know what it’s like.”

“I do.” Bakugou added, he was inwardly happy to see that you’d caught on to his situation.

“But I can’t wrap my head around you. You’re so funny to me. You always criticize Midoriya and even Kirishima and Kaminari, but with me, it’s like you’re a whole different kind of Bakugou.”

“I could say the same about you. When I first saw you use your quirk, I was so fucking impressed it was insane. I couldn’t understand how someone like you wasn’t aiming for the top. You made me so angry seeing you alone.” Bakugou gripped the chains of the swing set.

“It drove me crazy, seeing you all alone, spending time with yourself like you were too important to make friends. It really pissed me off.” Bakugou looked at the ground.

“Because that was me.” Bakugou kicked at the red mulch under his feet.

“I hated the idea of making friends but those losers crept up on me, and as much as I still hate them, they’ve been there for me through all of this shit.”

“It was Kirishima who grabbed your hand when the league caught you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve always admired your duality.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bakugou looked back up at you, the sun was beginning to set and you’d have to head back to U.A. soon. God he wanted to kiss you right now.

You looked so beautiful, the way the orange and purple sky mixed with the sparkling of stars beginning to light up like a city in the sky, the glow of the sun dripping below the horizon made your skin look radiant, like it was covered in thousands of tiny stars itself.

You were beautiful, everything about you was beautiful, he couldn’t fathom it.

“You’re strong when you need to be, but you’re able to open up and acknowledge your weaknesses.” 

Bakugou couldn’t resist any longer. The rustling of chains startled you as he darted up and took a few steps closer to you.

“Shut up.” He murmured before pressing his lips to yours. The swing was pushed back as you rose to your feet, your lips connecting to his like they were magnets.

His kiss was enough to make you realize one thing. Katsuki Bakugou was in love with you.

You kissed back but pulled away shortly after.

“Why’d you do that?” You questioned. 

“I needed to. Was it bad or something?”

“No! No! It was nice, I liked it.” You admitted, flustered.

“Can you stop making excuses and just realize that you’re still learning.” Bakugou intertwined his fingers with yours, securing your hand in his as you began to walk back toward the campus.

“Yeah.” You whispered.

When you arrived back at the dorms, Mina was surprised to see your hand in Bakugou’s.

“Someone’s in love!” She cooed, excited for the two of you. You looked away and let out a small giggle while Bakugou’s cheeks burned red.

"Shut up!” He yelled, rushing up the stairs with you to his dorm.

You and Bakugou hung out for a little while but it was safe to say that not only had you made some new friends, you’d discovered love for the first time.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

just some thoughts without pretending to be the truth. i have a feeling like inn 2017-18 there was some weird (but not bad) tension between vmin. like jm was getting to know himself and tae was.. observing? idk. the way they glared at e/o and touched was sometimes too intimate and jm went totally shy. but know smth kinda changed and i wonder what is it now? bois are getting older? and some moments in LGO tae doesn't look at jm i guess. like it's him shy now. AMA live is where he looks past him

Okay before I get into it I’d like to ask three questions, not necessarily directed at the person who sent in this ask but rather more into a general discussion round:

what is the sort of behavioral pattern that a ship needs to fulfill in order for people to think “oh, they might be into each other” and “oh, I think X ship is in love”, that sort of thing? Is it loud, almost over the top behavior taken straight out of the older generation Idol handbook? Is it constant physical contact, constant affection through double-meaning dialogues?

if vmin were to exhibit such behavior, show us lots and lots of affectionate interactions on camera in nearly every piece of content we have, tell each other every chance they get that they love each other when the cameras are rolling, would that make them seem more real, or would that cheapen the ship and only lead people to say “vmin is fan service and there’s no chance they are actually real”?

if we agree on the hypothesis that vmin might by now be in a relationship of a few years, and they are both 25 years old, so grown men at the height of their careers, do you really think they would feel the need to showcase their relationship and legitimate romantic feelings to each other in front of the camera? Would they really want to allow millions of people (some with good attitudes and respect, many though without respect and only hate on their tongues) into their relationship?

These are the sort of things I think about and I’m always curious to know what others think and how things would be like if vmin were to behave like certain others, if those who doubt them would stop, or only see it as more of a reason to doubt.

In any case, to a certain extent I agree with the person who sent in this question, that yes vmin’s on camera behavior has changed, that while in 2017/18 it was more Jimin who was shy, it’s now Tae who appears shy more often. But, I don’t see that as bad or negative or sign of things not going well. At all. Since last year I feel like Tae’s attitude toward being an idol and everything that entails has changed a bit, as did his mentality especially after he went through burn out and generally had a hard time in the first few months of 2020. But that I think had nothing to do with Jimin. I think their relationship, however you’d define it, was fine for most of it, and I think after so many years of knowing each other (it’ll be nine this year) and being close friends and perhaps more, they know each other, inside and out, and know how to act in certain situations and depending on how the other is feeling.

But while there have certainly been instances in 2020 where Tae appeared shy when interacting with Jimin, there have also been moments where he didn’t. Take for instance their interview where they spoke about all their albums. Once they got to Wings and BS&T, Tae spoke about how he remembers Jimin’s charisma and how tempting he came across in it. Or the interview filmed in that little corner at a diner or something where Jimin was supposed to say which moment in Dynamite is his favorite where Tae touched his shoulder and Jimin basically completely blanked for a moment before smiling, giggling, and saying that his favorite part was Tae’s. Or that one interview where they sat next to each other talking about Dynamite and then all of a sudden they were holding hands for almost the rest of the interview. Or Tae cupping Jimin’s hand during a photoshoot which we saw in the behind the scenes glimpses from when they were filming the Baskin’ Robbins ads.

More below the cut since this kind of turned out a little longer than anticipated, I hope you don’t mind, anon:

I think a big deciding factor in how vmin behave with each other and how they come across on camera is where they are, as well as most certainly how they are feeling on that day. Tae said himself that on days where he’s feeling good, going to work and doing what they do is fun and he has no problem with it, yet when he’s not feeling well, it’s hard and he has to push himself more to do things. Besides, there is definitely a distinction between how vmin behave when they know a camera is watching, and when there isn’t one. It even shows in something as silly as, remember MOTS ON:E day 2 at the end of Hobi’s performance of EGO when the members join him? Vmin are dancing with each other, standing facing each other with Jimin doing some kind of almost like “I’m performing magic on you” hand gesture toward Tae BUT the second he realizes the cameras are on him, Jimin straightens up and pretends like that didn’t just happen and no one saw anything. Or their side hug on day 1 and silly dance during day 2 during Dionysus, that, too, was something not visible on the main cam, just a side one which they knew would not be available during the replay, so less people would see it. Or even that famous moment of them holding hands on the airport on Tae’s birthday in 2019 on the way to NYC after going up the stairs. They thought no one could see, so they held hands like it’s the most natural and normal thing for them to do because that’s just how they are.

On the other hand, a performance where I agree with the anon that sent the question is that during BangBangCon in June when they performed Friends. Admin 2 already back then told me how you could see how both of them, but especially Tae, were shy during that performance. Jimin in his March vlive talking about Friends said that Friends is a meaningful song for him and that it will be an emotional moment in and of itself if they one day get to perform it together on stage, and you could truly see that. They both seemed somewhat nervous, shy, and a little unsure in some of their movements, but it also showed a glimpse at their dynamic, how it was Jimin who hugged Tae from the back, who opened his hand to lace their fingers together and hold it, almost like that dynamic of “I’m large but he’s in charge”, you know? Why is that? Because not only must it have been meaningful to them to perform together in such a way, but also Friends is a deeply personal song to them, probably more than any of us truly understand. (song analysis by Admin 1) But, at the same time, Tae has no issue with being brave online, as in to go on Wevserse and proclaim that 95z is love, or like today, go and post seven pictures out of which three were of Jimin (4 if you also take into account the one with the mirrors) or to make Jimin’s birthday the password while playing games with ARMY. Perhaps the difference is that on Weverse, Tae is in total control of the situation, it’s a place where no editor will cut the scene or edit it, but whatever he’ll say and post, that will be exactly how it is. Of course people can misconstrue his words, but that’s something no one has any control over ever, and thus not the point.

The way I see it, sometimes they allow themselves to be silly together, to show each other affection and do more cute things, like Tae going to Jimin’s room in ITS and rolling over him, giggling and just being silly and then sitting next to him and caressing Jimin’s back since he was sick. Or Jimin waking up and limping outside to see where Tae is and ask if he’s all right that morning. But in the grand scheme of things BTS have so little privacy, so few things that are truly just theirs and not something they share with us, so they guard the small things precious to them from prying eyes and treasure it. And that’s the case for their relationship, regardless of how you want to see it, as well. It’s theirs, not ours. We’re just privileged enough to catch glimpses of it sometimes.

Like remember on the day they had their interview at KBS in the summer due to their BBH100 #1 where the TV station even showed their arrival? Remember how Tae and Jimin first shared their hand sanitizer, since Jimin used too much of it, and later on when they walked next to each other, first they looked at each other, like a silent question passing between them of “are we doing this?” and concluded that yes. Which was followed by them holding hands and Jimin even raising their hands together toward the camera with an almost a little challenging looking in his eyes, like he wanted to show that they belong together in such a public manner. Tae looked a little shy in that moment as well, but he agreed to do it anyway, so his shyness doesn’t necessarily have to be connected to Jimin, per se, but more the situation they are in and who’s watching them.

Also, a final thing that always fascinates me is how, when other members don’t show their affection in every piece of content we get, no one questions their love for each other, no one questions if X is real even if those two don’t interact all too much for a while, people still think they’re close and whatnot, as example. And yet when vmin don’t interact in every interview and every other piece of content we get, immediately the questions begin if they are still close, if they are still together, if they’ve had a fight or if they broke up. And if they do show affection, it’s immediately equated to “it’s just bros being bros”.

Ask yourself: is an interview about their new song or album really the right place for “ship” moments? Is every performance the right place for it? And what if on that particular day one or the other or both simply weren’t feeling well? Or what if they simply hugged or whatnot before the performance and thus felt no need for a repeat on stage? They are professionals, they are musicians, and if we do get absolutely adorable moments like Tae taking a piece of confetti out of Jimin’s hair during their duet moment in LGO, that’s a precious gift, and not something we should demand/expect seeing every time. Would those moments still feel as special as they do now if we got the every time?

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | one

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

*a/n*: hiiiiii! so here we go. i don’t have much to say except that you’ll probably notice this chapter is a bit shorter than they usually are for my fics. with this story, chapters may or may not be shorter in length. this is just easier on me, and helps me to keep a regular posting schedule. now, i’m not going to say i won’t post longer chapters, but i just wanted to get it out there. i have a tentative posting schedule in mind, which i’ll make a post about later, but i’d say you can probably expect a new chapter every two weeks. 

also, just want to say- i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy right now. stay home, wash your hands, avoid contact with your face, and if you have to order food tip your delivery drivers a lil extra! and to those that don’t get to stay home and still have to work, i’m right there with you. we’ll get through this and all we can do is take it day by day ❤️

✩ index here ✩

make sure you read the prologue first! 

Today had started just like any other day. Mark got up and went about his morning, brushing his teeth, eating his breakfast, and taking his usual ten minutes to sketch the ideas in his brain before heading off to work. 

It’d been slow, but Mark wasn’t worried. There were enough appointments on Saturday and Sunday to make up for a slow Friday. The temperature had reached an uncomfortable high, so he’d dressed himself in a black muscle tee to offer some relief from the sticky air. 

The early afternoon went smoothly. Mark took the opportunity to work on some new designs and do some organizing in his tattoo room, while the other guys opted to sit around showing each other funny videos on their phones. 

By the time lunch rolled around, he decided to sit outside with his iced coffee, scrolling through social media on his phone while relaxing in the shade of the awning. He glanced up mindlessly, his eyes drawn to a figure standing across the street. 

A girl holding an ice cream cone. Mark’s breath caught in his throat because, no, it wouldn’t be you. You’d be back home, attending some tiny college where your parents could keep a watchful eye on your every move, not here in the great big city. 

Then the girl dropped her ice cream cone, her whine audible even from where Mark sat. He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips. He shook his head, just as there was a knock behind him on the glass of the door. 

Dahyun popped her head out. “Youngjae needs help grabbing some boxes from the back, can you help? Jackson and Yugyeom are being assholes.” 

Mark nodded, one last glance across the street before he stood up, heading back inside.

-----

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as Mark pressed the tip of his tattoo gun to your skin. Just the constant buzzing of the tool was enough to set your nerves on edge. 

Once you felt it, though, it wasn’t so bad. It hurt, but you’d been through worse. It was comparable to a thousand tiny kittens scratching you with their claws, over and over again. 

“You doing alright?” Mark asked, once one long minute had passed. 

You nodded, your arms squeezing the back of the chair you were straddling. It was an uncomfortable position, but it was the only way Mark would be able to access the back of your shoulder. You’d also had to strip down to just your bra, so at least you were given some modesty. 

“Yeah. Just... how long will it take?” 

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed how hard he was concentrating. His tongue was stuck between his lips, peeking out the corner. He was entirely focused on the art that he was tracing onto your skin. 

“Not long. The shading is what will take the longest, but it’s small, so I should have you out of here within the hour.” 

You exhaled slowly and pressed your forehead into the cushioned back of the chair as he went over the same area a few times. Though he muttered a ‘sorry’, you found yourself wincing from the pain. 

Yerin had left to get ready for work, as the stenciling and position process had gone on longer than either of you had thought. You’d made Mark move the stencil several times until you liked the positioning. Admittedly, it had been a stalling tactic to delay the inevitable pain that was coming. 

“How’s Taehyung?” Mark asked, just as he took a break from tracing onto your skin. You opened your eyes to see him reaching for a cloth to wipe across your skin. 

The question caught you off guard. Just the name of your brother was enough to rub salt into the wound you’d been holding closed for the last two months. You gulped, turning your face to press your other cheek into the chair, hiding your expression. 

“He’s good. He’s been in Japan for two years now, I think. He’s happy there.” 

You barely even noticed Mark returning to your tattoo, the pain less noticeable while your mind was occupied. 

“That’s good. I saw on Facebook he has a girlfriend now?” 

You nodded. “Mhm. Her name’s Jennie--she seems nice.” 

Mark didn’t need to know that you hadn’t spoken to your brother since the week before you moved to Seoul. He didn’t need to know you’d been avoiding his calls, texts, and e-mails. Most of them you deleted without even opening. 

From what you knew, Taehyung and Mark had simply drifted once they both moved out of your tiny town and started creating a life for themselves. Taehyung spent his years after college roaming the world, taking photos and putting on exhibits until he secured a steady photography job for a Japanese magazine. 

Mark moved before that, though you hadn’t known he’d moved to the city until today. You hadn’t ever been close to him besides the casual greeting when he’d be downstairs playing video games with Taehyung while you were doing homework. 

When you were younger, you’d had an innocent crush on him, only because he was one of the few boys that paid you any attention. You’d only ever had a handful of conversations, but he was always polite and even helped you with your math homework once or twice. It really hadn’t taken much to impress you back then.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” Mark asked. 

You were grateful for the slight change in subject. It was only a matter of time before he started asking about your parents, and you wouldn’t have been able to pretend any longer. 

“A couple of months. I just… wanted a change,” you told him honestly. 

Maybe you’d gotten more than you’d bargained for… but regardless, you were grateful for your newfound independence. 

“I get it,” Mark replied. “Alright, outline is done. Now we’ll just have to shade. I’ll give you a few minutes, okay?” 

You lifted your face from the back of the chair and sat up straight. “Can I see it?” you asked. 

It took a moment for you to realize Mark’s ears were turning red because without the shield of the chair, your entire bra-clad chest was now on display for him. It didn’t help that you’d chosen a pink, lacy bra just because it was the first one you’d grabbed out of your laundry bag. 

Quickly, you leaned forward again to cover yourself with the chair, biting forcefully onto your lip. You could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you said.

Mark cleared his throat and turned around, reaching for a handheld mirror on the table behind him. “It’s okay… I’ve definitely seen worse. Not that it was bad, or, well-” 

It was obvious he’d put his foot in his mouth. You found yourself giggling, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. Mark looked as if he was desperate for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he turned back around. “Here,” he said chuckling softly as he held up the mirror behind you so that you could see the work he’d already done. 

You managed to stifle your giggles as you turned your head. It was no wonder Mark was known for pieces like this--his lines were crisp and clear, flowing in such a way that it looked as if your skin was born with this intricate design. You couldn’t wait to see how it looked when it was complete.

“Good?” he asked.

“I love it,” you said, smiling wide. “Makes the pain worth it.” 

Mark looked pleased with your answer. He set the mirror down and got up, switching out the ink on his pen for the color he was going to use for the petals, a soft cool toned purple. 

You resumed your position against the chair after a few more minutes, fists clenched as you prepared for the pain. 

-----

It turned out not to be so bad. Mark kept you distracted, asking you questions about your experience in the city so far. When he sensed you avoiding the topic of home or your parents, he didn’t push. 

Once he got your tattoo bandaged up, you sat around talking for another half an hour while he showed you photos of his drawings, as per your request. You’d never known that he was so talented. 

“I guess I should be going,” you said after a lull in conversation. If you wanted to get back to your room before your roommate began their daily music blasting and loud video game routine, you’d need to head back. 

“Where are you staying?” he asked, pulling off his gloves and washing his hands in the miniature sink against the wall.

“Just… this little place,” you answered. Little was an understatement. 

When you’d moved out, you’d only had a suitcase and a finite amount of cash. It hadn’t exactly been planned, so your options were limited. You stayed in the first hostel you could find, and you were disappointed to find that the wages you received from serving couldn’t provide you with anything better. 

You shared a room, currently with a Russian girl a few years older than you that seemed to only be staying in Seoul to play shooting games and blast ear-piercing rock metal. Your last roommate hadn’t been nearly as bad, but you weren’t having great luck. 

“Here, I’m just finishing up for the day. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat, then I’ll take you home.” 

Your efforts to refuse his offer were basically ignored. He gave you no choice as he led you out to the front room to pay for your tattoo, whispering something lowly to Dahyun as she wrote up your bill. 

“Mark,” you said in protest once you saw the total. You didn’t know much about tattoo pricing, but you were sure this was significantly lower than it should have been.

“What? It’s a family and friends discount.”

You sighed. As much as you wanted to refuse his help, you had to admit you could take whatever discounts you could get. Tattoos were expensive and you certainly didn’t have the budget to get one as impulsively as you had today. 

“I’ll get my stuff ready, then I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Mark asked and you nodded, watching as he walked off to his room. 

“Family and friends, huh?” Dahyun asked, eyebrows raised as she watched you sign your receipt. “You must have gotten really close back there.” 

You laughed, sliding the receipt back over the table. “It turns out, he used to be best friends with my older brother. So… family, I guess,” you said, though you never really saw him as such. No matter how many times your mother acted like he was her second son. 

“Wow, small world,” Dahyun said as she handed over a sheet of paper with a list of bullet points on it. She went over the aftercare process, recommending the creams and ointments that she preferred, and ways to help it heal faster. 

After thanking Dahyun over and over for her kindness, you gathered your things and waited outside of the front door for Mark. 

When your day began, you never would have thought you’d be having dinner with your brother’s old best friend, bringing back memories you hadn’t quite been ready to revisit. But he was so sweet to you, so easy to talk to, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no. 

You’d always admired Mark’s choice to move to Seoul straight out of school, with no plan and no connections to the city. And he only came back for holidays and special occasions. While you were hastily packing your clothes into a duffel bag, you remembered thinking briefly of him. 

“Ready?” Mark asked from behind you as he exited the shop. The sunlight hit his skin, bringing your attention to the swirling designs upon his shoulder. The way his shirt was cut allowed you a peek of his ribs—you could see loopy cursive etched on his skin but you were unable to make it out.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you replied with a smile, tearing your eyes from his bare skin. 

[goindownshipping]

Inappropriate use of Stark tech? 😏

Smile for the Camera

Pairing: Tony Stark/Peter Parker (Starker, Starkercest)

Rating: Explicit (E) Rating due to brother/brother smut

Notes: Thank you @the-mad-starker for the suggestion for my first fill! This fills the “Inappropriate use of Stark tech” for @starkercestevent 😊

Warnings: NSFW, brother/brother smut, Tony and Peter are both of age and consenting.

Word count: 2k

Summary:

Tony quickly busied himself with repositioning the robots, as if that would solve Peter’s confusion. DUM-E was stationed at the right corner of the foot of the bed while U was on the left side of the bed. When he was done, Tony turned around and gestured to the new setup. After a moment, all the pieces clicked into place in Peter’s brain. Tony knew he’d figured it out when Peter’s entire face flushed pink all the way up to the tips of his ears.

Or, Tony enlists the help of DUM-E and U to film him and Peter in bed. 

“Petey! I have a surprise for you!” Tony called as he entered their apartment. 

“Just a sec, Tones!”

Tony could hear Peter’s voice coming from their bedroom, clearly preoccupied with something. He dropped his backpack at the front door and headed for the kitchen, his eyes immediately drawn to the plate of snacks on the counter. He had a mouthful of cheese and crackers when Peter finally came down the hall from their room, his hair clearly damp from a recent shower.

“You couldn’t have waited for me, gorgeous?” Tony smirked.

“If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll need a second shower this evening,” Peter winked.

Tony snorted and made grabby hands for his boyfriend who just rolled his eyes and let himself be pulled in for a hug. 

“How was your day, babe?” Tony asked against the soft skin of Peter’s neck.

“It was busy, but good. I finally made some progress on that formula with MJ. It would be nice to get that done before the weekend. Oh, mom and dad are coming this weekend, they wanted me to tell you.”

“Nooo,” Tony whined. “I had a surprise planned for this weekend.”

Peter craned his head back to take a look at Tony’s face. He pressed a quick kiss to his lips where they were pursed in a pout. “You’re cute when you pout, which is quite often.”

Tony didn’t budge, he just kept his lips pursed, inviting Peter to continue kissing him. Peter just laughed, knowing exactly what his brother was playing at. But Peter would never turn down an opportunity to shower Tony in kisses, and this was no exception. He leaned back in to press featherlight kisses all over Tony’s face, peppering his lips everywhere before finally capturing his lips again. 

“You’re trying to distract me,” Tony mumbled.

“Is it working?” Peter pulled back with a knowing grin on his face.

“You know it, honey. Come help me get a couple things out of the car - I guess you’re getting your surprise early.”

Peter beamed, always eager for one of Tony’s surprises. Tony just shook his head with a smile, unable to contain his fondness for his brother and love, which was only part of the reason he was dreading a visit from their parents. But he still had time before their sudden arrival.

In the driveway, Tony opened the hatch of his SUV to reveal two familiar robots. Peter looked at Tony with confusion.

“Why’d you bring DUM-E and U home from the lab, Tones? I thought you needed them for your senior design exhibit?”

“One of the many perks of them being my robots. I can use them for whatever I want,” Tony said with a glint in his eye. “Now help me roll these inside.”

With that, Peter followed Tony back into their apartment. He took an immediate right turn once he was inside, assuming they’d be leaving the robots in their shared office and lab space. To his surprise, Tony made his way to their bedroom with his robot in tow.

“Tony? Do you want both of these back there?”

“Yep, bring U on down to join Butterfingers, here!”

Peter wheeled the robot down the hall and parked it next to DUM-E in their bedroom. He stared at Tony, awaiting an explanation for the robots that were apparently taking up residence in their room. Tony stayed silent, just watching Peter with a mischievously crooked smile.

“Am I missing something?” Peter asked.

“You know what I originally designed these guys for, right?”

“To record and keep track of your inventions at home.”

“Yep,” Tony said with an emphatically popped “p”.

“I’m still not sure why they’re here,” Peter gestured to their spacious bedroom.

Tony quickly busied himself with repositioning the robots, as if that would solve Peter’s confusion. DUM-E was stationed at the right corner of the foot of the bed while U was on the left side of the bed. When he was done, Tony turned around and gestured to the new setup.

After a moment, all the pieces clicked into place in Peter’s brain. Tony knew he’d figured it out when Peter’s entire face flushed pink all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“You still interested in that, Pete?” Tony asked quietly, stepping close to his flustered lover.

“I uh - yeah… I am,” Peter stammered.

Tony crowded into his space, walking Peter backward until he was pressed against the wall. Tony braced his forearms against the wall, his mouth coming to rest against Peter’s ear, hot breath coming out in pants against him.

“Yeah?” Tony husked. “You still wanna watch yourself get fucked by your big brother, Petey? Wanna see what I see every night baby?”

Peter could only nod, his brain couldn’t form any sounds besides the needy whimpers he was letting out without realizing it. Tony pressed a wet kiss to Peter’s neck and trailed his lips up to Peter’s ear.

“God Pete, you are so fucking hot. Can’t wait to watch us, baby,” he whispered.

“Tony,” Peter moaned.

Tony took a slight step back, creating just enough distance to lay his eyes on Peter.

“Good surprise?”

“The best.” Peter took a deep breath, trying to regain a bit of composure. He finally managed to open his eyes, he wasn’t sure when they’d closed and felt himself melt at the sight of Tony’s smile.

“Love you so much, Tones.”

“I love you too, Petey. Now, what’s for dinner?”

Peter just laughed and shook his head as he moved toward the kitchen, knowing Tony’s appetite was not something to be messed with. 

A few days later found Peter and Tony frantically cleaning their apartment on a gloomy Friday night. Howard and Maria would be arriving the following morning and their home was certainly not up to the family standard of cleanliness. Not to mention, it was incredibly obvious that “Peter’s bedroom” hadn’t been touched since the last time their family visited a few months prior. 

Peter and Tony had come to accept their mutual attraction in the 9th and 11th grades, respectively, but there were very few people in their lives that knew the real extent of their relationship. Two people to be exact, and that did not include their parents. When Peter decided to attend the same university as Tony, their parents were thrilled. They allowed Peter to live with Tony in an off-campus apartment even as a freshman when Peter practically begged them to let him live with his older brother. 

He claimed it had everything to do with social anxiety and his nervousness around living with so many new people in the dorms. They obviously didn’t know the real reason the boys wanted to live together. Now, halfway through their sophomore and senior years, Peter and Tony lived an incredibly domestic life together. They learned even more about each other and fell more in love while experiencing so much life together. They wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

However, Howard and Maria visiting always threw a wrench in things. Tony was busy decluttering the living room and organizing the kitchen while Peter stashed his belongings back in the extra bedroom. He hated it, but he knew there was no way they could spin it if their parents found all of his stuff in Tony’s room.

“You almost done, Tones? I just finished my last bit,” Peter called. As he stepped back into their bedroom he laid eyes on DUM-E and U and realized they’d need to be moved as well. “Actually, Tony can you come help me move these robots to the office?”

Peter heard Tony’s footsteps coming down the hall and he grabbed U to pass off to Tony.

“Nope, we’re using those tonight, Pete.”

 Peter choked on his breath. “Tonight?”

“Mhm, tonight, honey. You done with everything else?” Tony asked quietly.

“Y-yeah, I think I got everything,” Peter nodded, his eyes flitting between the robots and Tony.

Tony stepped into Peter’s space and wrapped him into a tight embrace. “Relax, honey. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I know nights like this can be hard,” Tony trailed off. He knew how much they both hated the prospect of hiding themselves from their parents and he needed to be strong for Peter.

Peter shook his head, “No, I want to, babe.”

“You sure?” Tony pulled back to hold Peter’s gaze, making sure his younger brother wasn’t lying to him.

“I’m sure, Tony. I’ll tell you if that changes, promise.”

Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I love you. Now you get comfy on the bed and I’ll get these going,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Peter murmured dreamily before taking a step away.

What felt like hours later, Peter was laid out in bed, completely boneless and out of control of the sounds coming from him. Tony had taken his sweet time taking him apart bit by bit, making sure they really put on a show for the cameras. Peter tried not to pay attention to the robots and cameras hovering next to the bed, but it turned him on even more to look straight into the camera, knowing he and Tony would be watching this back. 

“Oh god, Pete, so good baby,” Tony moaned. His thrusts were slow and deep in an effort to drag out their pleasure just a bit longer. He was propped up on his elbows above Peter, his eyes trained on his boyfriend’s blissed out face.

Peter’s stomach was covered in evidence of two (maybe three, he’d lost count) orgasms and he could feel himself getting closer to the edge of another. He groaned at the hot coil building in his stomach, his cock getting harder with every punch to his prostate.

“Tony, babe, so close.”

“Yeah, baby, you gonna come for me again? Gonna come on my cock?”

The words went straight to Peter’s dick, and he could feel his orgasm building, the pleasure just on the precipice of exploding. He just needed-

“Come for me Peter, come for your big brother,” Tony groaned in Peter’s ear.

“Oh fuck! Tony!” Icy hot pleasure ran through his veins, his climax overtaking any and all awareness he had left. His cocked jumped and dribbled out the last bit of come he had left, but the waves of pleasure were tinged with pain as his orgasm ran him dry.

Tony groaned at the way Peter’s hole clenched even tighter around him. “Fuck baby, that’s so good. Fuck, I’m gonna come, Pete!”

Tony pulled out of Peter’s hole, desperate to see his own come mix with the mess Peter had already made on his stomach. His orgasm ripped through him after hours of holding off and focusing on Peter’s pleasure.

“Mmm yes, Tony. Want it all over me,” Peter slurred, noticing Tony’s plan.

“Oh god, yes baby, all over you.”

With that, Peter felt Tony’s warmth explode across his abdomen, some spurting up his chest and even streaking up to his chin. He stuck out his tongue, trying to get a taste of it, but pouted when he couldn’t quite reach it.

“Damn, Pete, you’re a vision,” Tony mumbled as he ran his fingers through the come on Peter’s chin and brought it up to Peter’s open lips. It was obscene the way Peter sucked on Tony’s fingers, his eyes fixed on him, knowing exactly what he looked like.

“Good boy,” Tony murmured, before pulling away to grab a warm cloth to clean them up. 

Peter whined at the loss, but quickly quieted down when Tony returned. Peter leaned into the touch, relishing the gentleness between them. Tony pressed kisses over every inch of Peter he could reach as he ran the cloth across his chest and stomach, then down between his thighs to make sure he wouldn’t be uncomfortable sleeping.

“Get comfy my love. I’m just gonna move these guys back to the office,” Tony whispered.

“Mkay,” Peter replied, already half asleep.

Tony just chuckled fondly as he managed to grab both robots and their cameras. Once they were situated in the office, he pulled up his network.

“J, download files to my private server.”

“Right away, sir.”

As Tony made his way back to their room, he stuck his head in the spare bedroom and frowned at all of Peter’s belongings. They looked so out of place by themselves; Tony much preferred to see them intermingled with his own. He shook his head knowing there was nothing to be done, it would gratefully just be a few days this time, then they’d be back to normal.

He climbed in bed and Peter immediately clung to him like a koala. Tony smiled down at the boy and wrapped him in a tight hug, content to just hold his boy as he slept.

“Thank you, Tones,” Peter whispered.

“Nu-uh, thank you, honey. That was amazing.”

Peter tilted his chin up to look at Tony. “I love you lots, babe.”

“I love you back, Petey. Now get some sleep, my love.”

Peter nodded and drifted off to sleep. Tony wasn’t far behind him, for once not worrying about the following day, just thinking about the man in his arms. And the obscene footage currently downloading down the hall. But that was a thought for another day.

[reeeyachi]

Killua and Gon plan a surprise for Mito?

OMG YES YES YES!!! okay let’s try this. idk if it’s too long for a tumblr prompt but...!!! THANK YOU FOR THIS <3 imsosorryifitsucks

Treat

“What do you think?” Gon asked in an excited whisper, immediately cupping his mouth when he realized that his pitch stepped an octave higher at the end of his sentence. He snapped his gaze at his bedroom door and paused to wait for footsteps. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Hearing nothing but the soft hums of the morning wind and the choir of birds chirping from outside his window, he shifted to face his best friend again, beaming.

“Hmm…” Killua hummed, crossing his legs as he sat on the floor with Gon, narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows examining the piece of paper in his hand. His other hand slowly stroked his chin, elbow on one knee—a stance that exhibited internal deliberation. Again he hummed, thoughtful, then he sniffed when he couldn’t think anymore. “Well,” he quietly said, careful not to disturb the silence that engulfed the break of dawn, “I’m not really good at this. But I think the list looks okay.”

Gon leaned forward, planting his palms on the cool timber floor, to try and take a peek at the list again. He mimicked Killua’s hum as he scanned it with his eyes. “Should we add cherries?”

Killua paused, confused. “Do we need cherries?”

“Not really. She just likes to put a cherry in her drink.”

“Why?”

“She says she likes the bittersweet taste.” Gon shrugged and lifted his eyes at Killua, meeting his puzzled stare. He blinked. Killua blinked. Then he grinned when Killua began nodding slowly of understanding, lips forming a small letter ‘o’. Gon released muffled snickers and briskly whispered, “Let’s just add it.”

Adjusting the lamp that hovered over it, they stared at the paper once again after the click of the pen, skimming through the long list with their wide eyes, making sure that they never missed a single item. That was the first rule they set when they started to plot their strategy: Do not forget anything. The market was a little far from Gon’s home and they couldn’t afford their time wasted on foot travel, because they were certain that it would take them hours to accomplish what they intend to do. It was, after all, a grueling task.

“Are you sure about this?” Killua asked, for the fifth time that dawn alone, when he was reminded of their little plan. Sure, he would go with whatever Gon wanted to do, yet this disconcerted him—it’s something that he was just not trained for. He expected Gon to have done it before, but to his surprise and disbelief, it was the opposite. He tried to reason out at first, suggesting possible in-task scenarios like poisoning and burning the house down. But it wasn’t Gon’s stubbornness that won him over; he simply wanted to try it too.

Sitting up straight, Gon gave him a stern nod and a raised fist. “Let’s do this.”

Killua grinned and stood up, eyes scanning the dark room for the clock. “What time do we leave?” It was half past five o’clock in the morning.

Gon hopped on his feet, relieved to finally speak in his normal tone of voice—or louder. “Now!”

---

A sigh escaped Mito’s lungs as she stared out at the green and blue opulence of her backyard from their kitchen window, sluggishly rinsing the last plate from her pile of dishes, thinking of the two boys who sprinted past her and out of the house the moment she exited her bedroom. Well, she tried calling after the smaller boy—even shouting his name at the top of her lungs and asking where they were going so early in the morning—but he just waved a hand and said, “We’ll be back!” She sighed again and dried her hands with a towel when she glanced at her watch. It was almost nine o’clock. Time for her to go to the market.

“Grandma, do you need anything?” she asked the elderly woman sipping tea at the kitchen table before turning a heel towards the door, wallet in hand and pouch around her waist.

Lowering the cup with her trembling, wrinkled hands, Grandma took a note out of her skirt pocket and handed it to Mito.

The latter’s eyes grew wide when she read the content of her shopping list. On a normal day, Grandma would only request for replenishment spices that she liked adding to her food that Mito cooked, oh and tea. On a special day, she would give Mito a list of herbal plants and medicines, and sometimes even ask her to buy her something sweet. But the list she gave Mito that morning was a mix of those—and more. To add to how strange it was, some of the items in the list were new to her eyes. She looked at Grandma who was peacefully enjoying her cup of tea again. “What do you need these for?”

“Let’s stock up,” the elder woman calmly said. “We will be cooking a feast before Gon leaves again, right?”

Mito raised an eyebrow, ignoring how her heart ached a little when she was reminded of that fact. “Are these even available at the market?”

Another sip, and a nod. “Oh, and please get the actual Brahmi and Ashwagandha plants. I’ve been wanting to have them in my garden.”

A stare of disbelief. Those plants were rare. “Are you really sure that I can find these at the market?”

Grandma, finally finishing her tea, stood up and walked to the kitchen counter saying, “Just look with your eyes and not with your mouth.”

Mito huffed and shoved the list inside her pouch. “I will look for these but don’t expect that I’ll find everything, ne!” When Grandma responded with subtle laughter, she said goodbye and stomped her way out of the house.

---

“Look, it’s Mito-san!” Gon pointed ahead as they jogged, securing the basket in his arms to keep it from slipping.

Killua looked at where Gon pointed and saw Mito from afar walking to their direction. He grinned and glanced at Gon. The latter did so as well, and after sharing a quick playful look, they sprinted. Mito’s appearance signaled that they were close to Gon’s home and the start of a race.

They slowed down when they neared Mito, who stopped in her tracks the minute she saw them, to give her big smiles and a swift greeting. She was about to say something but Gon beat her to it to tell her, “Take your time, Mito-san!” before waving a hand and dashing towards the house.

Grandma observed the two boys do a quick inventory check of the things that they bought. When they were done, she let herself in the kitchen, meeting the fully occupied table and Gon and Killua’s wide grins. She smiled back, informing them about the success of her contribution to their little shenanigan. Gon laughed and thanked her, estimating with his tiny fingers how long his Mito-san would be able to complete her shopping list. He guessed about three hours. All the items in the list were available at the market after all, and they made sure of this the day before—even asking the people at port as to when the ship carrying the island’s resources would arrive. They were lucky; it was that day.

“Do you need help with that?” Grandma asked, scanning the load of ingredients on the long kitchen table with her eyes.

“We’re okay, Grandma! We can do this!” Gon raised a fist in air and turned to Killua who gave a solid nod before running up the stairs.

Half a minute later, he came back bringing with him Gon’s laptop. Killua pulled a chair a good distance away from the stove and set the laptop on it, clicking on the link to the recipes they had bookmarked three days ago. “Okay,” he started, standing up and flexing his fingers, “first we need to cut.” He turned to Gon, who was already beaming and presenting him with two knives he held on both hands. Killua snorted and paced towards him, cheekily saying, “Let’s try which one’s sharper, my fingernails or your knives!” while the other boy laughed.

Gon and Killua had never, not once in their life, religiously followed a recipe of a dish that they would cook for someone else. Perhaps the only time they did cook for another person was when they roasted that huge pig for Menchi and Buhara during the Hunter Exam—at which they failed. However, this time, they were determined to do well.

Grandma checked on them from time to time, her eyes disappearing into thin lines as she smiled at the view of Gon and Killua busily cutting vegetables and frying meat. Periodically, Gon would come to her to ask her where some of the spices were, how much of those they should put in the pot, and if a pinch of salt was really enough for food to taste alright. Killua was assigned to double check the recipe, and if what they were doing was correct. They made a few mistakes, though, caused mostly by Gon’s excited hands. But they guessed it was fine because the food was looking like the ones in the pictures and, for them, that was just about right.

After more than three hours of scrambling around inside the kitchen, they finished with triumphant grins, one big high-five and a messy kitchen. They decided to clean up later because they had to set the table right away.

---

The baskets were heavy. It was a good thing a friend of hers was there to help her get home with a straight back. When Mito reached her front door, she looked up, hovering a hand over her eyes to act as shade from the noon sun’s intense rays. “Gon?” she called loud, hoping that the boy was already home for she needed help carrying the baskets inside. She was tired, incredibly tired, and sweaty. Retreating to her room to take a cold shower and sleep on her bed would be nice. But the thought was instantly dissolved when she was reminded of lunch. It was already half past twelve o’clock. She still had to prepare their food.

Seconds later, the doorknob was turning and there appeared Gon with a wide smile plastered on his face, Killua, smiling too, on his side. “Hi, Mito-san!”

The instant Gon opened the door, a savory smell fumed in the air Mito breathed in. She inhaled it in again after two seconds, making sure that it came from where she thought it did. She looked at Gon. “Grandma cooked?” Her stomach grumbled and she realized that she was famished. It smelled delicious.

Gon smiled even more, taking one of Mito’s baskets in his arms and ushering Killua to take the other. They carried them in, and she followed, feet leading her to where her nose was telling her to go.

There.

The dining area.

The corners of Mito’s lips slowly curled into a smile as she neared it, feeling a little excited about what Grandma may have prepared, and because it was uncommon for her to be coming home to freshly cooked food. It was usually her who did all the work in the house after all.

Her smile grew wider as the appetizing fumes intensified. When she stepped into the dining area, she stopped, eyes gaping wide of surprise. Her dining table transformed into a full, colorful banquet—salads, steamed and fried fish, roasted chicken, hot soup, buttered shrimp, scrambled eggs, sauced pork. What’s the big event? Was it Killua’s birthday? Her glistening eyes scanned the room to look for an elderly woman, but she found two beaming boys instead, standing behind the table facing her.

“Surprise!” They said in unison, throwing their little arms in the air.

Mito was taken aback, unsure of what was happening. Still, her chest swelled of awe. It made her smile more. “What is all this?”

“Gon and Killua prepared this just for you, Mito,” Grandma interposed from behind her. Mito turned. “They have been planning this for days.”

Shifting her wide-eyed gaze back to the two boys, she blinked, unable to utter a word.

Gon laughed sheepishly. “We wanted to do something for you while we’re here, Mito-san, to thank you for taking care of us. We hope you like it!”

Was she just too tired? Or was it because she found the gesture incredibly sweet and thoughtful that her limbs suddenly felt weak? She had to take a breath, one deep breath, so that she could say the words, “Thank you, Gon, Killua,” without letting tears that had already built up in her eyes stream down her face.

“Let’s eat, Mito-san!”

[letterstothemidnightsociety]

Alright, so if you've been following along with me, Supernatural season 3 starts out on a trio of episodes that are Really Fun, slides into some episodes that are Pretty OK, then takes a real nose dive into Bummersville. Hoo boy guys, I really hope that this season picks up. I mean, it won’t, but I can still dream. 2021 was maybe not the year to start watching this season. Fair warning.

The next three episodes for this season are just, like, real downers. First we get “Fresh Blood,” which, aside from the terrible title, starts out on a high note. Gordon (gross) somehow manages to catch up with Bela (HOW??) and threatens her if she doesn’t hand over the Winchesters. Bela, in all of her class and grace, won’t give them up because she has a high price point and Gordon is really lowballing her here. Just like, yes, ok, please stay forever, you’re amazing and I love you. And what a scene this is! You have two characters, one with a strict moral code (albeit one that allows for violence and winning at all costs) and the other with almost NO moral code, but an allegiance that can be bought with the best price and it’s such a fun back and forth until Gordon pulls out a gun. And then she pulls out her phone and just has Dean on speed dial and that’s maybe my fav part. Bela has run into the Winchesters twice and they maybe legit hate her but she’s very much like, oh yeah, my BFF’s the Winchesters, I love those idiots!

I love that we come back to this moment later in the episode when Bela, like, three days later, is like, Oh! I guess I should warn the Winchesters that some crazy guy is after them! She’s just so casual about it you kind of get the feeling that, even though technically Gordon was threatening her life, she doesn’t view him as A Threat. She gives the Winchesters a heads up just to be like oh yeah, you might want to watch out for this mild inconvenience, and she seems legit shocked when Dean freaks out. There’s this moment that plays across her face like, oh shit, did I...did I fuck up? And it adds a nice bit of depth to her character. She’s seems honestly worried, both for the lives of the Winchesters but also that Dean won’t like her anymore and that is just a charming bit of A C T I N G!

I am gonna miss her SO MUCH when she dies at the end of this season. WHY did we CANCEL HER???

But despite the fun beginning, this episode is about monsters and how people become monsters and how other people are probably the reason. Because our main baddie is a vampire who hunts to...well, listen if we look at the facts that he lays out in his monologue, it’s a little more tragic - he’s trying to replace the daughters that he lost hundreds of years ago, cool motive, still murder. In practice though, he goes around turning hot blonde coeds into vampires and then ?????? Who knows. I’d like to believe that this was a problem with the CW executives or maybe casting/directing and not with the writing, but it’s SPN and you really can’t be sure with anything. The fact is, this is a CW show from the early 2000’s and a lot of their extras are cast to type. And that’s maybe me exhibiting some girl-on-girl crime, but there are other episodes that did a much less blatantly gross job casting their extras/Very Special Guest Stars.

Anyway, the POINT of this guy is that he’s a monster because someone killed his daughter and he’s just been trying to fill that grief hole inside of him for centuries. This is not unlike Gordon, who ALSO has been trying to fill a grief hole that he’s had for decades, except he’s not killing people and resurrecting them as blood suckers, he’s just killing them. And then, when the Vamp decides to turn Gordon it’s a real sweet moment of comeuppance for like, a HOT second and then you’re like, awww dude, ya done f’ed up. That was a bad idea. You’ve made a HUGE mistake.

More importantly, our Vampire In Question finally runs into the Winchesters and get’s to say things like “I was desperate! You ever felt desperate? I've lost everyone I ever loved. I'm staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?” and also “I just ... I didn't care anymore. Do you know what it's like when you just don't give a damn? It's like ... it's like being dead already.” and Dean’s v. much like, THIS IS TOO REAL ROY.

Sam may ALSO be feeling Too Real feelings because he is DONE dicking around with Gordon and honestly yes, I like this, this is good Sam development. It’s nice to know that Sam has a breaking point. And I admit I’m of two minds about this moment because 1) I love the idea of Dark!Sam this season and that maybe Sam’s decision to actually kill Gordon is just one step in that process but 2) I ALSO love the idea of Sam Lite finally having a breaking point and Gordon is IT. I don’t know which theory I like more in this scenario, but they are both good theories.

I think as much as this episode wants to draw parallels between the monsters and Dean (thank you artful editors), you can’t look at the “I’ve lost everyone I ever loved,” line and not think of Sam? Cuz he’s got one (1) person left in his life that hasn’t died horribly, so how desperate is he about to get through the end of this season? I’ve definitely been watching this season with eyes on all the ominous Dean foreshadowing, but the Sam foreshadowing is also there, just buried under the heavy weight of a thousand smulders and suicidal levels of denial.

And also, FUCK the tag on this episode! Guys, it is CUTE but it is also HORRIBLE. Dean starts teaching Sam how to fix the Impala and at first it’s all, “Oh! Adorable Brothers Being Brothers!” and I loved it but then I almost immediately hated it because you realize this is about making sure Sam can get along without him once he’s gone and Dean just accepts his own death with such casual ease that it’s just...INFURIATING!

This scene was rude and I HATE IT!

Cut to - “A Very Supernatural Christmas” Special!

Guys, I was so excited when I got to this episode. THIS is Classic Supernatural Shenanigans. Plus, you know a Holiday Special is the ultimate sign that this show has Made It, right? Or it could be a sign that they’re selling out, who knows, but I think we can say that at this point in the series, SPN is established enough to start having fun with their fans. That’s what this says to me. BUT THEN what we get is like...oh boy.

First - like, I’mma beat this horse to death, but what is WRONG with this FAMILY? John Winchester very quickly devolved into the sort of father that forgot about every single holiday and did not ever, even a little bit, make up for it. It’s not a surprise, but it kind of wrecked me seeing a flashback where Baby Dean is just so attached to a father who can’t be bothered to actually care for his children. I know he’s not in this episode because Jeffrey Dean Morgan was tied up in other projects, but the fact that John doesn’t show up at the end to button the flashbacks with a But then he DID show up for Christmas! just makes this plot line that more gutting. And despite Dean’s hero worship of their father, this is maybe the Christmas where Baby Sam stops believing in his own father. The only bright side to this is that it continues to enforce the fact that Bobby should have sued John for custody. Bobby should maybe STILL Sue for custody so that Dean at least would feel like someone wants him for once in his life, damnit.

And then we wrap this episode up with the Best Worst Christmas of all, because we see Sam start to...also?? accept that Dean is about to die? Cuz that’s what this episode is really about - Dean’s Last Christmas. And everything about that makes me ~ u p s e t ~.

So Sam decides to put his curmudgeonly grinchy attitude aside in order to make it a special day for Dean and ugh. UGH. UGHGHGHG. Season three is the worst guys, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize that until right this second now.

So let’s wrap this up with "Malleus Maleficarum", honestly an episode that is mostly forgettable until we get to, like, the last five minutes. Sure, witches and curses and selling your soul, woohoo whatever.

But then we get some real Ruby centric reveals and like, WHAT is happening?? First off, the scene where Ruby and Tammy have a moment is a real Moment. There is some baggage and tension here and it is heavy. And then Tammy drops the mic when she reveals that Ruby used to be human.

THEN, Ruby legit saves their asses by killing Tammy with a fancy magic knife. Ok, Dean does the actual killing, but Ruby brought the fancy magic knife. So between the hot and heavy tension with “Tammy” and her repeated attempts to keep the Winchesters alive, we’re left wondering what IS Ruby’s deal? I personally wonder how much of the show’s mythology the show actually has figured out at this point? Because interviews with Kripke definitely walk the line between “Oh we definitely have this whole thing worked out,” and “yeah, we’re sort of finding things as we go along,” which is maybe why it’s able to last as long as it does. More on that later.

Of course the big kicker is the final scene between Ruby and Dean. Dean is almost on board with Ruby at this point in the season, and much like his scene with the demon in “Sin City”, they share a kind of vulnerable moment together where Ruby admits that, yeah, she was human once and yeah, Hell will destroy you, body and soul, and yeah Dean’s worst fear will probably come true - he will become the thing he hunts, no ifs, ands or buts about it. And Dean knows that Ruby knows that Dean knows that there’s no way to save Dean from his fate, but they both agree that they can’t take Sam’s last ounce of hope away from him because, for both of them, Sam is their hope. Ruby and Dean both see the war happening around them and they know that with Dean gone, Sam’s maybe the last guy holding back the tide to save all humanity.

Which, honestly? Bull shit. Do you know how many hunters are out there? Neither do I, but this season seems to indicate that there are a LOT. We have barely scratched the surface on the hunter community and it’s a damn shame that they are all weirdo loners because there is a war going on. You know what works great in a war? An ARMY. Buncha mentally unstable, martyr-complex ijits who can’t put their differences aside for one damn MINUTE so that maybe, JUST maybe, the could actually defeat the evil they’ve spent their entire lives dedicated to fighting. And if Ruby and Dean wanted to help Sam, what they should probably do is get him plugged in to that community. I do believe that of all they backasswards, self-obsessed, painfully anti-social crazies out there, the Winchesters are THE WORST.

Listen tho, this was like, a solid scene between these two. Just a lot of work goin' into this and it paid off.

Anyway, back to the mythology for a hot second - This sort of loosey-goosey stumbling into your own world building is probably another one of those things that you’ll only really get in a show with this many episodes per season? It’s that room to play and experiment and just make stuff up as you go along. I think the slow drip method of releasing episodes ALSO helps in this scenario because you’re able to see what fans are reacting to in almost-real time. When viewers are binging episodes, I think you're less likely to see what specifically they’re reacting to and more wholistically they’re reacting to. And that’s not to say you won’t see those specific things that they like/love eventually, but by the time you get there, your season’s been produced in its entirety and you’ll have to bear that in mind for (hopefully) next season. But with SPN, they were writing and producing the show at the same time that some of the episodes were airing. That’s why they were able to make decisions on the fly, based on what fans responded to. And definitely by this point in the show, there was a sizeable and vocal fan base that made their feelings VERY well-known. We’re only in season three, but they’ve already had a number of con appearances and a pretty active online presence. That kind of feedback has got to be helpful, from a writing perspective, but it also allows for things like characters getting cut because nobody liked them for some dumb reason. BUT, if you’re fighting to stay on the air for 100 episodes or longer, responding to fan reactions is what’s gonna do it and that’s a fact.

[awhilesince]

Monday, 13 September 1824

7 50/60

1 35/60

Breakfast at 9 – Mrs Mackenzie came and sat with me 1/2 hour she is in doubt whether to stay here or not seemed to ask my advice and be inclined to stay if her father is pretty well I would not speak decidedly but was evidently in favour of her staying she has had much unhappiness married against her choice from convenience a man thirty years older than herself who made her unhappy tho she always tried to do her duty her daughter cleverer than she is and rather the upper hand it seems Mrs Mackenzies being so communicative struck me – Mrs Mackenzie gave me a ticket given to her by Mr Brande that will always admit me to the Jardin des Plantes – Miss Mackenzie, too, came in and sat with me a few minutes – 

on this account, it was 12 before I had read over my 3 letters finished last night, and had no time to make any extract from them – they must be in the general post office Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau before 2, or could not be taken in today, and then there being no English post tomorrow, must have waited till Wednesday my letter to my aunt (begun on Wednesday, 3 pages, the ends, and under the turn-down) giving an account of my journey, my being very comfortable here, of Madame de B–‘s (Boyve’s) being handsome – of our sitting in the Tuileries gardens, and of the Champs Elysées, and of the fête at St. Germain gave an account of the shawls worn and their prices – excerpt this – 

My letter to M– (Mariana) on the same subjects only giving a more regular account, rather journalwise, and adding short answers to M–‘s (Mariana’s) last letter – Merely said on the subject of Mrs Henry Stephen B–‘s (Belcombe’s) management of the going-to-York business, I did not understand it, but she and Steph had my best wishes – Entreated M– (Mariana) not to pother herself about Petergate money matters – Mrs B– (Belcombe) knew what she was, and would take care of the girls – I did not think Dr. B–‘s (Belcombe’s) practice could now be sold for much – he was not likely to be well enough to introduce anyone – but Steph’s name and kinship would serve him – affectionate to π (Mariana) kind about Miss Pattison but much more the former to Miss Maclean very much so to her tho anybody might see it perhaps she herself may muse over a line or two in the first page – Told both my aunt and M– (Mariana) and Miss Maclean of my having Madame Galvani, that she alone was worth coming to Paris for; and all my time – would be taken up in endeavoring to gain the French language – 

my letter to Miss Maclean begun at Shibden Wednesday 18 August, resumed and finished yesterday – foolscap sheet 3 pages, long ends, and under the turn-down – very small and short – Treated of my journey being comfortable here, the Tuileries Champs Elysées fête of St. Germain etc etc very briefly – all the rest bavardage amical – 

went out at 12 1/4 (took Cordingley with me) direct to the general post-office in the rue Jean Jacques Rousseau – put in my letter to my aunt (Shibden) 22 sols. and to ‘Mrs Lawton Lawton hall etc 22 sols. and to ‘Miss Maclean of Coll Tobermory North Britain (Ecosse)’ 28 sols because letters here are paid for according to their weight, and I had sealed this letter and wafered the 2 others – wafers always used here because lighter than sealing wax, and for the same reason the French choose thin writing paper – saw the man who took my letters, and those of the crowd standing round the wire grating of his bureau, weigh each letter in a pair of scales hanging close to him – 

from the Post Office walked thro’ the halle au bles, and the church of St. Eustache for Cordingley to see them – then along the rue de Grenelle direct thro’ the palais of the Louvre to the Pont des Arts – crossed the Pont neuf, and returned over the Pont royal thro’ the Tuileries gardens and got home at 2 –

the porter gave me a letter charged only 5 sols (brought by some private conveyance –sent thro’ our ambassador) from Miss Maclean (Tobermory) – Oh! that I had had it before I went out – 

on coming upstairs to Mrs Mackenzie to ask what they were going to do, found them going to the Louvre to try to see the exhibition there of the new (modern) pictures – done by living and I believe all French artists; for the King’s death was hourly expected, and all public places would be closed for 6 weeks – his majesty had taken leave of his family, and received extreme unction – the garde du corps to be changed – Monsieur the next King will go to St. Cloud, and there will be no fête there – what a stupid place, says everyone with one accord, will Paris be! Away we went to the Louvre – shut already, sans aucune exception, till further orders – Sauntered in the Tuileries gardens –

Got back at 4 – read my letter from Miss Maclean – very kind and affectionate – I know not any of her letters that has given me more pleasure – perhaps the receiving it here, might add to my delight – I shall keep and read it by way of stimulus for see the end of the crossing Breadalbane thought me ‘almost quite handsome at Esholt’ and Miss Maclean evidently likes and admires me  visited by an old admirer ‘you once said you thought I would have been happier in the married state no no you are mistaken unless with a mind and he art like your own the married state would have been misery to me  far happier as I am ‘ – see the bottom of page one – and the last end for the following  after desiring continuation of the extracts from my journal ‘you know not how I was tormented at home about you Miss Bs (Belcombe’s) manner of speaking half did this  she only poor soul jested but very little difference of manner in you would have made me dislike you at that time I believe it was mostly occasioned by a little tincture of jealousy at home’..... thought I to myself this lets me into much the Belcombes are no advantage to me I now really dislike Anne not tho on her own hearts account for she is good but for the disagreeableness of her manners I would not for worlds be thought a friend of her poor soul she too was jealous I guess the style in which she would mention me – Breadalbane by thinking me almost handsome at Esholt has perhaps got over her prejudices and and I may conciliate her perhaps entirely with a little care – she must have some idea of Miss Macls (Maclean’s) partiality for on the arrival of my letter she threw it into the room with ‘there be happy’ see the first page at the bottom of the second is the more than permission to write Sibbella  Mrs Grieves would have been most happy to see me –

Miss Maclean inclosed me a letter from her niece Miss Hobart – I should fancy her a nice good hearted fashionable girl the superior cleverness I have somehow expected would not strike one from her letter she is in first rate nobility society evidently – I am to burn the letter at the end of the envelope is the following ‘I certainly do spend a good deal on dress but if I had all to buy I think I could manage very well surely a single woman can live very comfortably on nine hundred a year which I under stand I have at my disposal uncle Sullivan told me before I went to Paris as worth eighteen thousand pounds and rather more’ – 

At the 4th page of Miss Hobart’s letter (dated ‘13th’ August) 

‘Now as to your dear picture, your friend whose name I forgot is perfectly welcome to it now, I will with pleasure lend it for a short time, but you may tell her she is much more welcome now than at the horrible time you mention, for if I survive you, I shall not then spare it.’ – 

Reading and musing over my letter till near 5, then came the Irish girl and another young person from Madame Romatier to try on my new gown – not only my stays, but my petticoats ill made (true enough) – French stays would cost 30 francs and upwards – such calico as my petticoats are made of, so strong and good, not to be got in Paris – the best I could get would be thinner and finer 5 francs an aune an aune wide tho’ this of mine was 1/3 in England this and 1/2 wide – it would take 3 or 4 aunes for a petticoat; and the making (at Madame R–‘s (Romatier’s)) would be 5 francs – 

Dinner at 6 – A Mr Moore who would speak nothing but desperately bad French all the while made his debut at table – to stay for how long, I know not – does not dance now in England – does not like the present style of dancing in England except at Almacks – rather a would-be-prig – nothing great, methinks, ab origine and at home – Madame de B– (Boyve) would teach me Ecarté, and after a game or 2, set me down to play with Mr Moore (not for money) and I played with him (the better of the 2 I think) for surely about an hour – 

In the evening had Monsieur Bellevue; a Swiss count, a handsome young man; Monsieur Denappe, and Monsieur St. Auban – after playing at finding out words and talking to 1 or other (have not sat next Madame de B– (Boyve) these 3 or 4 nights) 

came up to bed (leaving the party) at 11 35/60 making memoranda of my accounts – read and mused over Miss Maclean’s letter – all much kept me up so late – Very fine day – the sun out – very warm – Fahrenheit 69° at 12 3/4 – [E two dots O two dots, marking discharge from venereal complaint] –

reference number: SH:7/ML/E/8/0042, SH:7/ML/E/8/0043

[azozzoni]

Some extra van der stoffels for your christmas eve. This is not related to the big fic, just something fun.

*

The weather is finally turning, little green buds sprouting on the trees, blue skies breaking through rain clouds, and thank god, Jens thinks. He can’t wait until it’s warm enough to wear tee shirts again, but for now, he’s still got his sweatshirt on as he stands outside the bus station, checking the time on his phone before tucking it in his pocket.

Lucas should be there any minute, as long as the bus is on time.

It’s been two weeks since Jens has seen him, two very long weeks in which even Robbe accused him of moping. Jens does not mope. He just misses Lucas is all--misses the stupid way he laughs and teases Jens about the fact that he only owns two sweatshirts, misses the way he seems to melt whenever Jens smiles at him. God, he is going soft.

Jens forgets about all of that, though, when he catches sight of Lucas stepping out the door, head swiveling to find Jens amongst the people milling around the station.

His face lights up when he spots Jens, and Jens shoves down the glow in his stomach as Lucas hurries toward him, biting his lip and looking more pleased with himself than usual. It takes Jens a minute to realize why as Lucas gets closer, bounds into his space, arms around his neck.

“What the fuck is that?” Jens asks, grabbing Lucas’ face before Lucas can kiss him, holding him back a few inches to stare at the shiny silver ring in Lucas’ nostril. That is definitely new. And definitely hot.

“You like it?” Lucas asks, as if he knows the answer already. He probably does from the way Jens has to stop himself staring, force himself to blink, turning Lucas’ chin to the side so he can get a better look.

“When did you get it?” he demands, and Lucas grins, eyes sliding to Jens’ even as Jens keeps his chin turned to the side.

“Couple weeks ago,” Lucas says, reaching for Jens’ hoodie pockets and tugging him closer. “I went with Isa.”

Jens hasn’t met all of Lucas’ friends yet, but he remembers Isa, the girl with curly hair and a bright smile who hugged him so tightly when they first met.

Jens drops his fingers from Lucas’ chin finally. “You kept this a secret for that long?”

Licking his lips, Lucas nods, and Jens hates what that does to him, makes him think of panting breaths and slick skin in the darkness. But he can’t think about that when they’re standing in a crowded bus station and they have somewhere to be in half an hour.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Lucas says, eyes big as he watches Jens, as if maybe he is worried Jens doesn’t like it. “So what do you think?”

“I think you’re so incredibly hot already, this is just going to make it impossible for me to keep my hands to myself,” Jens says simply, pulling Lucas into a kiss, feeling Lucas’ smile against his lips as Lucas’ arms slide around his waist.

Jens doesn’t know how long they stand there, probably too long to be making out in the middle of a bus station, but he doesn’t care. It’s been two weeks since he’s been able to do this, and he’s going to make the most of the time they have today.

“Aren’t we going to be late?” Lucas asks finally, pulling away to take a breath, huff it out against Jens’ chin like maybe he doesn’t care about being late. Jens certainly doesn’t care. He’d much rather take Lucas back to his apartment--not even to spend the whole afternoon wrapped up in bed, but just to catch up, to find out if Jayden ever got a date with that girl he was chasing after last time Jens came to visit, if Kes and Isa are on the path to getting back together, if Lucas had missed him too.

It’s with that thought that Jens reluctantly lets Lucas go. “I guess we should go. Not that Robbe will notice if we don’t. He’ll be too busy making moon eyes at Sander.”

“I think Sander would appreciate it,” Lucas says, and Jens is no longer surprised when Lucas takes his hand and they head for the crosswalk.

Lucas probably knows more about what Sander would appreciate considering he has his mom to deal with, so Jens leads the way, trying not to think about how much he would rather be kissing Lucas right now instead of heading to an art show for Sander’s school. Art is something Jens knows absolutely nothing about. But he promised Robbe, and he’d invited Lucas, and they were going.

“So what do I say about the art?” Lucas asks when they reach the school, and Jens laughs.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Then I guess we’ll just be uncultured idiots together,” Lucas says, and he doesn’t blush like he used to, when they first met. It takes a lot more to make Lucas blush now, but Jens sees it as a challenge.

“Maybe it will be all drawings of Robbe,” Jens says as they enter the building, following the signs to the gallery where more people than Jens expects. “Then we can tease him about it for the rest of his life.”

Lucas smiles but he doesn’t say anything as they reach the gallery.

Jens has never been here, never been to Sander’s school actually. The gallery is a large, white room, partitioned with moveable walls, different types of art hung up. Jens doesn’t see anyone he knows, wandering through the exhibits. To his credit, Lucas appears to be appreciating several they pass.

“You know,” Jens says as they pass what he thinks might be a sculpture. It also might be trash. Turning to Lucas, he pulls him in closer, smiling at the shiny new piercing in his nose. He wonders what spurred Lucas to do such a thing. “We could just say we couldn’t find them. My apartment’s empty for the next few hours.”

Lucas glances at him, half a smirk on his face. “These are your friends,” he says, as though Jens isn’t perfectly aware.

“And I invited you before I knew you were going to show up looking so good,” he says, snaking an arm around Lucas’ waist, murmuring his next words against his temple. “I don’t think I can wait a whole hour to get you alone.”

He’s rewarded with a blush this time, a pink tinge along Lucas’ cheeks, the tips of his ears, the back of his neck.

“So I don’t always look good?” Lucas asks instead, and Jens bites back his grin as he tips Lucas’ mouth up to his.

“You do,” he assures him. “It’s just been two very long weeks and I was unprepared.”

“Good answer,” Lucas says, and he grins as Jens leans in to kiss him.

“Hey, there you are!”

Robbe’s voice cuts through them like a knife, and Jens sighs as Lucas turns away before he can close the distance.

Jens is glad his friends like Lucas, that Lucas likes his friends, but right now, he’d rather that Robbe was off somewhere else instead of talking to Lucas enthusiastically about Sander’s drawings and dragging him over to some corner of the gallery.

Jens follows behind them, wrapping his arms around Lucas from behind as they admire Sander’s work. It’s not all Robbe’s face, which disappoints Jens a little. There are other people too, even one of Jens, which surprises him.

“Why is my face up there?” he asks, glancing at Robbe, who shrugs.

“You’re friends. He likes you.”

“No, that can’t be it,” Lucas says, and Jens scoffs, pressing a kiss to his neck instead.

“Shut up. Everyone likes me.”

Robbe is watching them now instead of the drawings, and Jens feels weirdly self-conscious for a second as he straightens up. He shouldn’t, he knows. After all, he’s been with Lucas for a few months now.

He’s saved from Robbe asking a question he doesn’t want to answer when Sander comes up behind them.

“Jens, Lucas,” he greets them both, hugging Lucas.

They get along like a house on fire, which Jens is glad for. Not that he thinks too much about what his friends think of who he’s dating. He never cared with Britt and Jana and Robbe had always been friends. But Lucas, Lucas is new to the whole group.

Sander steps back from Lucas, pointing at his face. “Is that new?”

“Uh, yeah,” Lucas says, glancing at Jens, who grins, biting his lip.

“I love it,” Sander says seriously. “Very rock and roll.” He glances at Jens. “You guys kind of match now.”

Jens isn’t expecting the way Lucas flushes this time, not quite meeting his gaze, and a thought occurs to him, one he hadn’t considered before.

“Thanks,” Lucas says, looking back at the drawings. “These are all amazing, though I don’t know why you’d want Jens’ ugly face in there.”

Jens scoffs, forgetting for a second about why Lucas pierced his nose. “I am the prettiest person on any wall.”

“Not the wall by the skate park,” Sander says, cheeky, hugging Robbe to him.

Well, nobody can compete with that, Jens thinks, watching Robbe giggle at whatever Sander whispers in his ear. He looks away to find Lucas watching him.

“You can’t fight a giant mural of Robbe’s face,” he says, shrugging. “But seriously, Sander, these are so good.”

Sander grins at Jens, looking only slightly embarrassed at the compliment.

“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. And thanks for coming all the way up here, Luc.”

Lucas smiles easily. “Can’t think of any other reason I’d rather come.”

Sander laughs as Jens pulls Lucas back against him, shaking his head.

“Asshole,” Jens says in his ear, messing up Lucas’ carefully styled curls.

“Do you guys even like each other?” Robbe asks, joking, as Lucas rakes his hair back into place.

“Not at all,” Jens says, but he takes Lucas’ hand. “But there’s other art to see, so we’ll catch you guys later.”

Robbe rolls his eyes, but neither he nor Sander stop them from heading in the opposite direction. Jens has no intention of looking at any of the art as they cross the gallery, heading towards the exit.

“Don’t you want to see anything else?” Lucas asks as they pass walls of abstract paintings, and Jens glances over his shoulder at him.

“I’ve already got a piece of art.”

Lucas laughs, tugging him to a stop as they leave the gallery, stepping into a long, empty hallway.

“Do those lines actually work?” he asks, stepping up to Jens, arms sliding around his neck.

“They worked for Sander,” Jens points out, but he doesn’t really care what worked for Sander. He’s already got Lucas right here, in his arms, close enough to kiss and no one around to interrupt them.

He should ask now before he chickens out, before he decides he doesn’t want to know the answer. He gaze sweeps up Lucas’ face, the moles on his skin, the pinkness of his lips, how incredibly blue his eyes are even in the dim hallway lighting. Jens doesn’t think about it often, how fucking gorgeous Lucas is, but he knows it. He’s known it since the first time he saw Lucas and his heart fell into his stomach.

“Why’d you pierce your nose?” he asks, the banter falling away. He watches the way Lucas takes a breath, eyebrows furrowing.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly. “My mom about died when I came home. I guess I kind of wanted something like yours.”

“You wanted to match,” Jens says, echoing Sander’s words, and Lucas makes a face.

“Not exactly. I didn’t pierce my ear.”

There’s a strange feeling in Jens’ stomach, like something warm and fuzzy has taken up residence there when Lucas looks back at him finally.

“Do you think that’s weird?” Lucas asks, apprehensive, and Jens shakes his head.

For a second, he bites it back, bites back the words gnawing at his tongue. But why should he? Why should he stop himself from admitting how he feels? Even if the boys will tease him forever. Even if Robbe will smile at him, all stupid and knowing as if he called it or something.

“I missed you,” he says finally, bringing a hand to Lucas’ jaw, watching Lucas’ eyebrows rise, as though surprised, as though pleased.

“You did?”

Jens nods. “Two weeks is too long without your face.”

It sounds so mushy when he says it out loud, but he wouldn’t take it back, not when Lucas’ eyes seem to shine brighter, his smile widening. He wants Lucas to look like that all the time.

“I missed you too,” Lucas says after a minute, whispers in the empty hall.

Jens gets to kiss him this time, holding him close and licking into his mouth as Lucas smiles against his lips, kisses him back.

“If you ever get another piercing, I want to know right away,” Jens murmurs when they part, lips soft and warm.

“Okay,” Lucas agrees, looking pleased with himself this time as he lifts his chin to kiss Jens again.

They’re not going to see any more art today, and Jens is perfectly okay with that. He’ll be perfectly okay with anything as long as it’s with Lucas.