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#because I already don't know what's wrong with me 50% of the time
teaandinanity · 7 months
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Truly one of the most deeply obnoxious things about my body is that its response to basically every kind of pain over a certain severity threshold is 'throw up.' There are literally no situations where this is helpful.
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treasure-mimic · 9 months
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So, let me try and put everything together here, because I really do think it needs to be talked about.
Today, Unity announced that it intends to apply a fee to use its software. Then it got worse.
For those not in the know, Unity is the most popular free to use video game development tool, offering a basic version for individuals who want to learn how to create games or create independently alongside paid versions for corporations or people who want more features. It's decent enough at this job, has issues but for the price point I can't complain, and is the idea entry point into creating in this medium, it's a very important piece of software.
But speaking of tools, the CEO is a massive one. When he was the COO of EA, he advocated for using, what out and out sounds like emotional manipulation to coerce players into microtransactions.
"A consumer gets engaged in a property, they might spend 10, 20, 30, 50 hours on the game and then when they're deep into the game they're well invested in it. We're not gouging, but we're charging and at that point in time the commitment can be pretty high."
He also called game developers who don't discuss monetization early in the planning stages of development, quote, "fucking idiots".
So that sets the stage for what might be one of the most bald-faced greediest moves I've seen from a corporation in a minute. Most at least have the sense of self-preservation to hide it.
A few hours ago, Unity posted this announcement on the official blog.
Effective January 1, 2024, we will introduce a new Unity Runtime Fee that’s based on game installs. We will also add cloud-based asset storage, Unity DevOps tools, and AI at runtime at no extra cost to Unity subscription plans this November. We are introducing a Unity Runtime Fee that is based upon each time a qualifying game is downloaded by an end user. We chose this because each time a game is downloaded, the Unity Runtime is also installed. Also we believe that an initial install-based fee allows creators to keep the ongoing financial gains from player engagement, unlike a revenue share.
Now there are a few red flags to note in this pitch immediately.
Unity is planning on charging a fee on all games which use its engine.
This is a flat fee per number of installs.
They are using an always online runtime function to determine whether a game is downloaded.
There is just so many things wrong with this that it's hard to know where to start, not helped by this FAQ which doubled down on a lot of the major issues people had.
I guess let's start with what people noticed first. Because it's using a system baked into the software itself, Unity would not be differentiating between a "purchase" and a "download". If someone uninstalls and reinstalls a game, that's two downloads. If someone gets a new computer or a new console and downloads a game already purchased from their account, that's two download. If someone pirates the game, the studio will be asked to pay for that download.
Q: How are you going to collect installs? A: We leverage our own proprietary data model. We believe it gives an accurate determination of the number of times the runtime is distributed for a given project. Q: Is software made in unity going to be calling home to unity whenever it's ran, even for enterprice licenses? A: We use a composite model for counting runtime installs that collects data from numerous sources. The Unity Runtime Fee will use data in compliance with GDPR and CCPA. The data being requested is aggregated and is being used for billing purposes. Q: If a user reinstalls/redownloads a game / changes their hardware, will that count as multiple installs? A: Yes. The creator will need to pay for all future installs. The reason is that Unity doesn’t receive end-player information, just aggregate data. Q: What's going to stop us being charged for pirated copies of our games? A: We do already have fraud detection practices in our Ads technology which is solving a similar problem, so we will leverage that know-how as a starting point. We recognize that users will have concerns about this and we will make available a process for them to submit their concerns to our fraud compliance team.
This is potentially related to a new system that will require Unity Personal developers to go online at least once every three days.
Starting in November, Unity Personal users will get a new sign-in and online user experience. Users will need to be signed into the Hub with their Unity ID and connect to the internet to use Unity. If the internet connection is lost, users can continue using Unity for up to 3 days while offline. More details to come, when this change takes effect.
It's unclear whether this requirement will be attached to any and all Unity games, though it would explain how they're theoretically able to track "the number of installs", and why the methodology for tracking these installs is so shit, as we'll discuss later.
Unity claims that it will only leverage this fee to games which surpass a certain threshold of downloads and yearly revenue.
Only games that meet the following thresholds qualify for the Unity Runtime Fee: Unity Personal and Unity Plus: Those that have made $200,000 USD or more in the last 12 months AND have at least 200,000 lifetime game installs. Unity Pro and Unity Enterprise: Those that have made $1,000,000 USD or more in the last 12 months AND have at least 1,000,000 lifetime game installs.
They don't say how they're going to collect information on a game's revenue, likely this is just to say that they're only interested in squeezing larger products (games like Genshin Impact and Honkai: Star Rail, Fate Grand Order, Among Us, and Fall Guys) and not every 2 dollar puzzle platformer that drops on Steam. But also, these larger products have the easiest time porting off of Unity and the most incentives to, meaning realistically those heaviest impacted are going to be the ones who just barely meet this threshold, most of them indie developers.
Aggro Crab Games, one of the first to properly break this story, points out that systems like the Xbox Game Pass, which is already pretty predatory towards smaller developers, will quickly inflate their "lifetime game installs" meaning even skimming the threshold of that 200k revenue, will be asked to pay a fee per install, not a percentage on said revenue.
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[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Hey Gamers!
Today, Unity (the engine we use to make our games) announced that they'll soon be taking a fee from developers for every copy of the game installed over a certain threshold - regardless of how that copy was obtained.
Guess who has a somewhat highly anticipated game coming to Xbox Game Pass in 2024? That's right, it's us and a lot of other developers.
That means Another Crab's Treasure will be free to install for the 25 million Game Pass subscribers. If a fraction of those users download our game, Unity could take a fee that puts an enormous dent in our income and threatens the sustainability of our business.
And that's before we even think about sales on other platforms, or pirated installs of our game, or even multiple installs by the same user!!!
This decision puts us and countless other studios in a position where we might not be able to justify using Unity for our future titles. If these changes aren't rolled back, we'll be heavily considering abandoning our wealth of Unity expertise we've accumulated over the years and starting from scratch in a new engine. Which is really something we'd rather not do.
On behalf of the dev community, we're calling on Unity to reverse the latest in a string of shortsighted decisions that seem to prioritize shareholders over their product's actual users.
I fucking hate it here.
-Aggro Crab - END DESCRIPTION]
That fee, by the way, is a flat fee. Not a percentage, not a royalty. This means that any games made in Unity expecting any kind of success are heavily incentivized to cost as much as possible.
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[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A table listing the various fees by number of Installs over the Install Threshold vs. version of Unity used, ranging from $0.01 to $0.20 per install. END DESCRIPTION]
Basic elementary school math tells us that if a game comes out for $1.99, they will be paying, at maximum, 10% of their revenue to Unity, whereas jacking the price up to $59.99 lowers that percentage to something closer to 0.3%. Obviously any company, especially any company in financial desperation, which a sudden anchor on all your revenue is going to create, is going to choose the latter.
Furthermore, and following the trend of "fuck anyone who doesn't ask for money", Unity helpfully defines what an install is on their main site.
While I'm looking at this page as it exists now, it currently says
The installation and initialization of a game or app on an end user’s device as well as distribution via streaming is considered an “install.” Games or apps with substantially similar content may be counted as one project, with installs then aggregated to calculate the Unity Runtime Fee.
However, I saw a screenshot saying something different, and utilizing the Wayback Machine we can see that this phrasing was changed at some point in the few hours since this announcement went up. Instead, it reads:
The installation and initialization of a game or app on an end user’s device as well as distribution via streaming or web browser is considered an “install.” Games or apps with substantially similar content may be counted as one project, with installs then aggregated to calculate the Unity Runtime Fee.
Screenshot for posterity:
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That would mean web browser games made in Unity would count towards this install threshold. You could legitimately drive the count up simply by continuously refreshing the page. The FAQ, again, doubles down.
Q: Does this affect WebGL and streamed games? A: Games on all platforms are eligible for the fee but will only incur costs if both the install and revenue thresholds are crossed. Installs - which involves initialization of the runtime on a client device - are counted on all platforms the same way (WebGL and streaming included).
And, what I personally consider to be the most suspect claim in this entire debacle, they claim that "lifetime installs" includes installs prior to this change going into effect.
Will this fee apply to games using Unity Runtime that are already on the market on January 1, 2024? Yes, the fee applies to eligible games currently in market that continue to distribute the runtime. We look at a game's lifetime installs to determine eligibility for the runtime fee. Then we bill the runtime fee based on all new installs that occur after January 1, 2024.
Again, again, doubled down in the FAQ.
Q: Are these fees going to apply to games which have been out for years already? If you met the threshold 2 years ago, you'll start owing for any installs monthly from January, no? (in theory). It says they'll use previous installs to determine threshold eligibility & then you'll start owing them for the new ones. A: Yes, assuming the game is eligible and distributing the Unity Runtime then runtime fees will apply. We look at a game's lifetime installs to determine eligibility for the runtime fee. Then we bill the runtime fee based on all new installs that occur after January 1, 2024.
That would involve billing companies for using their software before telling them of the existence of a bill. Holding their actions to a contract that they performed before the contract existed!
Okay. I think that's everything. So far.
There is one thing that I want to mention before ending this post, unfortunately it's a little conspiratorial, but it's so hard to believe that anyone genuinely thought this was a good idea that it's stuck in my brain as a significant possibility.
A few days ago it was reported that Unity's CEO sold 2,000 shares of his own company.
On September 6, 2023, John Riccitiello, President and CEO of Unity Software Inc (NYSE:U), sold 2,000 shares of the company. This move is part of a larger trend for the insider, who over the past year has sold a total of 50,610 shares and purchased none.
I would not be surprised if this decision gets reversed tomorrow, that it was literally only made for the CEO to short his own goddamn company, because I would sooner believe that this whole thing is some idiotic attempt at committing fraud than a real monetization strategy, even knowing how unfathomably greedy these people can be.
So, with all that said, what do we do now?
Well, in all likelihood you won't need to do anything. As I said, some of the biggest names in the industry would be directly affected by this change, and you can bet your bottom dollar that they're not just going to take it lying down. After all, the only way to stop a greedy CEO is with a greedier CEO, right?
(I fucking hate it here.)
And that's not mentioning the indie devs who are already talking about abandoning the engine.
[Links display tweets from the lead developer of Among Us saying it'd be less costly to hire people to move the game off of Unity and Cult of the Lamb's official twitter saying the game won't be available after January 1st in response to the news.]
That being said, I'm still shaken by all this. The fact that Unity is openly willing to go back and punish its developers for ever having used the engine in the past makes me question my relationship to it.
The news has given rise to the visibility of free, open source alternative Godot, which, if you're interested, is likely a better option than Unity at this point. Mostly, though, I just hope we can get out of this whole, fucking, environment where creatives are treated as an endless mill of free profits that's going to be continuously ratcheted up and up to drive unsustainable infinite corporate growth that our entire economy is based on for some fuckin reason.
Anyways, that's that, I find having these big posts that break everything down to be helpful.
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scarletcomet · 2 years
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i am so normal and not mentally ill at all
#ok so im sorry to ppl who see this post before i delete it later but#i really want to sh and the only reason im like holding back is because scars#i have too many already and even if i tell myself i'll only do a little bit in an area that's easy to keep hidden i know that it's like#an addication and it's so hard to stop once you start and then the next thing you know you're out of space#the 2nd reason is because i don't want to break my 62 day streak on the calm harm app#i'm really out here having the same feelings about my days clean from sh as i do about my snapchat streaks or duolingo streaks huh#lmao#i'm really fucked up huh#i just need a few cuts but i know a few turns into 10 which turns into 50 and so on and then the same thing the next day#i know what relapses are like for me. 6 years of this shit now#maybe i should have thrown away all those blades back in september when i got clean again after a really bad relapse#i know exactly where they are hidden in the back of the drawer of my bedside table#i didn't throw them away because i wanted to have them 'just in case'#i guess having them there makes me feel idk safe?#anyways so sorry for posting this#im truly fine other than a little stressed and the overall self hatred#maybe i need to remember that i kinda freaked myself out several times the last relapse from like the severity of the wounds#i don't want to cut that deep though. at least rn. but i know once i start each cut just isn't 'bad' or deep enough so i keep going#ugh sorry for posting this idk what is wrong with me (other than the anxiety depression and adhd)#self harm tw
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schwarzkatje · 4 months
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'50s!au with butch!ellie and married!fem!reader || part 2
part 1
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ellie wants you to come with her at the gay hideout she spends the majority of her nights at. she may have sounded sly and even flirty when she asked to go together, but now she is starting to get the feeling like she crossed a line there.
it's ironic because ellie seems to take pride in showing how confident and unbothered she is, whether it's with joel or her group of friends. she always speaks her mind and loathes the thought of being silenced or when she's asked to be someone she is not.
if only this time there wasn't more at stake than the protection alone of her being: there's you. ellie doesn't want it to be over before even getting the chance to try. she knows deep down that losing you or scaring you away would be too much to take.
she mentally slaps her face with how ridiculous she's being. because you actually accepted the invitation. but still, ellie thinks she may be reading into it too much, not wishing to fall into the trap of false hope.
but then again, it's not like ellie asked you out: the only reason why this is happening is because your husband, joel and other friends of theirs gathered to play card games, leaving you alone and bored. the opportunity presented itself, that's what ellie makes of it. you, on the other hand, told your husband that it would be nice to get to know ellie and to get some fresh air, since you aren't exactly used to it, being a stay at home housewife.
except that you of course lied about the location ellie and you are headed to. you know deep down it's wrong. on so many levels.
all this mental torturing results in ellie scoffing while she gets dressed, tying her trusty necktie and spraying cologne all over her suit. this time, it's a black one. perfect to be worn for the night.
you don't have a driving licence so it's ellie that picks you up. this excites you in a way you can't exactly put into words. for this reason when you see her car on your patio, your heart gives in to said excitement and almost leaves a hole in your chest.
you grab your purse and your coat, give your husband a kiss to which he doesn't respond in the most loving way, barely acknowledging you, too fixated on his cards. you don't have time nor the energy to let this affect your mood, not when you are once again busy trying not to make a fool of yourself in front of ellie.
she looks out of this world. the suit is not something you haven't seen. but the suit alongside the slicked back hair turns out to be a deathly combo. why don't you feel half the things you experience with ellie?
"you must like this place a great deal if you're going dressed so fancy," you attempt joking while getting inside the car because if you take it seriously you know you will get yourself embarrassed beyond limits.
ellie has to clear her throat the moment your leg enters the car, giving her the premium seat vision of your charcoal stockings and your red velvet dress, temptingly hugging your chest. she likes to think she's playing cool but she doesn't manage to steady her voice completely. "and you must be taking the "gotta make a good impression at all costs" rule maybe a little too far". wow, ellie, that's how you talk to a woman, congratulations. "i mean yeah you look good, obviously i was pulling your leg".
"i know, ellie, don't get too serious with me" i already have my whole current and future life for that, you prefer not to add. "and thank you. you don't look so bad yourself".
the whole ride is spent with silences and stolen glances taking the place of unsaid words. you appreciate it but you also make this your defence shield against any possible embarrassment. ellie, too, doesn't seem to mind, only asking you if she can light her cigarette.
you have to take a few hidden roads to arrive to destination but overall you must have taken fifteen minutes or so. ellie parks and she maybe too obviously speeds the whole turning it off process because you see her on your right opening the door. she tops it off with her giving you her hand to help you get out. needless to say, you forgot how small things like this used to make you happy.
"i promise you'll love this place. music is top notch and don't get me started on the drinks," ellie really wants you to enjoy it and it's not just the excitement in her voice that gives it away, rather how her big eyes that exude such a pure sweetness that even if the hideout turns out to be a flophouse, you couldn't find it in you to show disappointment. then again, ellie seems to care especially about you, so you highly doubt she invited you over just to take you to some dubious taste pub.
as soon as you two set foot in there, you are stunned: there are areas with decorated tables and chairs, long counters filled with shot glasses and distant niches which you can enter by scooting the velvety curtains right before these areas. your prejudice had been faster than your open mindedness: you assumed this place would be chaotic and with different music than soft jazz.
instead your eyes wander and a smile creeps on your lips. you don't notice right away all the gay and lesbian couples. well, of course you notice but the fact is... this doesn't shock. you see them dancing, kissing, drinking, having fun and you can swear a weight you didn't realise until now was being lifted off your stomach. so it's normal, you mentally slap yourself for what you just thought.
"told you, you're gonna have a blast," ellie's voice brings you back to planet earth and the hand that swiftly hugs your waist to guide you into the pub nearly sends you into space once again.
you don't blush but at the same time your legs quiver, imperceptibly so. still, ellie's touch is not one you simply dismiss. it marks you, it's hot and firm, yet so gentle you sometimes could doubt she even touched you. to obliterate any confusion, your skin reacts to it. every. single. time.
ellie leads you both to another room in the hideout. the classy interior continues to impress you and this time you spot leather couches instead of thin wood chairs. this can only mean you and ellie are going to sit real close to each other. you can't help but gulp.
the hand ellie placed on your waist disappears only when you take a seat on this small yet comfy sofa. before you is a coffee table with a numbered card and a list of all the drinks. you pick it up and turn to ellie, who has also taken a seat, legs open and elbows planted on the sofa back. fuck.
she bursts out laughing and your puzzled face only eggs her on. "i bet 50 bucks i can guess which drink you are gonna order," ellie is sure of herself on this and too bad for you her laugh spread across you as well. "am i so easy to read? wait, two can play this game. let me guess your drink too," you seize the opportunity to hammer your shell. after all, if you can't do it here where and when else would you?
"alright, then. shoot," dares you ellie. your eyes glint, filling with the excitement of a trivial game. "you're gonna have a beer. easy as that. maybe a little bit basic if i can say so myself but everyone loves a good beer".
"ouch, you just called the best drink in the world basic. like, i would totally agree if it wasn't for the fact that your choice is a martini, so..." this way of playing engages you and dares you to come out more and more.
"without olives," you punctuate. "it doesn't matter. i still won and you," ellie points at you wiggling her index finger "you are starting to look like a sore loser".
"i'm not. if anything i'm impressed," this comes out genuine since it's the truth. it's thrilling to have someone with whom to create a natural connection, someone who must have watched you over time because how else could she have guessed? what is the meaning of this? what are you doing?
the waitress finally arrives and ellie, still high on the eagerness of having guessed, decides to tease you a little more. "a martini, please," she declares while her shit eating grin is directed towards you. she's daring you once again and your pride makes you take the bait immediately. "and a beer. not too cold if that's possible, thank you".
once the waitress is out of sight, ellie shakes her head, still wearing that breathtaking smirk and fishes out another cigarette and she puts it in between her lips. "damn, what were you saying about not being a sore loser?" ellie fiddles with the lighter, looking right at you. "you are making fun of me so you get a lukewarm beer," you cross your arms, pushing your breasts together and you inch closer to ellie.
"a beer is a beer," ellie takes a puff and drops some ash into the glass tray. "and by the way i'm too happy you came to even be bothered". she sounds so sincere and innocent it physically hurts you. you feel more and more like it's your job to protect her. "i'm happy i came, too. i needed this," what you meant by 'this' is unknown even to you.
your drinks don't take too long before they are placed on the small table and you take them. as if you had previously agreed, you raise them, tilting to bring them closer. ellie is the first to talk. "a toast to happiness, then." "a toast to happiness," you repeat.
it hits you when the alcohol starts its descend into your veins just how much ellie is exposing herself to you. again, it's not like most people in town don't know, but still, with you feels different. ellie generally shows her nature because she hates suppressing it and also to prove people wrong, to be a nuisance in their eyes. it's not because she's 100% at ease with the situation, it's more of a retaliation thing.
with you, it's a whole new ellie. she's not fed up, she doesn't need to be defensive and she shows her true colours because it's the only thing that comes natural, not to piss someone off.
while you take small sips you keep telling yourself now it's your turn to be vulnerable. or at least to initiate something. before it's too late and you regret and your lightheaded feeling wears off, you turn to ellie. not only that, your knees bump into each other and ellie shivers. your face get nearer and nearer, gaze fixed on ellie.
for the first time you see those puppy eyes open wide, taken aback and visibly surprised by how bold you are being. but it's when you take her hands into yours that an inaudible gasp leaves her chest and lands warm on your face. you both squirm and get restless the more your skin prolongs the contact.
"let's dance"
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wrestlingwithlife · 11 months
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COD Incorrect Quotes With Our Lovely Y/n
Warning gets a little spicy towards the end ;)
Price: Well, should I be worried?
Y/n: Not yet.
Price:
Y/n:
*loud explosion*
Y/n: Now you can worry
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Y/n: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much?
Gaz: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is!
Y/n: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!!
Gaz: You take that back!!!
Y/n: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.
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Y/n: What are you doing here?
Soap: I could ask you the same question.
Y/n: I live here. This is my room.
Soap: I should probably ask you a different question.
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Y/n: I just heard Ghost call the dog a “fucking liar” because he barked like someone was at the door and no one was there.
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Price: I am going to need you to swear-
Y/n: Fuck.
Price:
Price: ...swear as in promise.
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Price: *shatters a window and climbs through it*
Price: *turns around and helps Y/n through it* Breaking and entering is wrong Y/n
Y/n: Okay.
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Ghost: You read my diary?
Y/n: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.
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Y/n: I like your new pants!
Price: Thanks, they were 50% off!
Y/n: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. *winks*
Price: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.
Y/n: Thats’s… not what I meant.
Price: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Y/n.
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Y/n: The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.
Graves: I almost died.
Y/n: That... was my favorite memory.
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Soap: You look good in that hoodie.
Y/n: You know where else I'd look good?
Soap, zero hesitation: My bed.
Y/n, at the same time: By your side- wait, what?
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Ghost: This bloodline ends with me.
Y/n: That's the fanciest way I've ever heard someone say "I'm gay".
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Y/n: Gaz, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right?
Gaz, naked in Y/n's bed: No, I absolutely do not.
Y/n, already taking off his clothes: Fuck... Me neither.
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Price: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you?
Y/n: …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out on bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?
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Y/n: Well, Ghost and I finally did it!
The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*
Y/n: That's right... We kissed!
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Y/n: There are 20 letters in the alphabet, right?
Gaz: Nope, there's 26.
Y/n: Ah, I must have forgotten U, R, A, Q, T.
Gaz: Aww, that's cute, but you're still missing one.
Y/n: You'll get the D later ;).
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Y/n: What are you in the mood for?
Ghost: World domination.
Y/n: That's a bit ambitious.
Ghost: You are my world.
Y/n: Aww...
Ghost:
Y/n:
Ghost:
Y/n: OH.
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Price: Know why I called you in here?
Y/n: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.
Price: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?
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Soap: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.
Y/n: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?
Soap: Seize the dick.
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Hopefully these helped quench you guy’s hunger whilst I work on my next post.
- Author~Chan out ✌️
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nanamiya3 · 9 months
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Hello! As an SA survivor, I really appreciated your story with Naoya. My comfort character is Nanami and I was wondering if you could write something similar? Where reader has an anxiety attack bc of her trauma and finally tells nanami about it? She’s worried that he won’t accept her and nanami reminds her he’ll never do that. It’s a heavy topic so I completely understand if you want to pass on this! I appreciate your writing regardless so thank you for taking the time to write & post these stories :)
hii! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond (can you believe my last post was almost half a year ago :0) but thank you for the ask! i made this absurdly long because i love backstories but i hope you like it :)
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nanami x fem reader (she/her pronouns used) - fluff & comfort - pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby) - wc. 7.7k
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please note that there are mentions of SA (nothing explicit/graphic) after the little "exhibit" sections are over. if you aren't comfortable with mentions of past SA (ex: nanami asking if someone has "hurt" reader) please don't read past the little "exhibit" scenarios or don't read/expand the post at all :) again, it's pure fluff in the "exhibit a, b, c" parts, after that SA is discussed/alluded to
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Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.
Exhibit A: The time you were an hour late to your first date.
“Come on, just trust me on this one!” Shoko exclaims as she pelts you with blueberries—your blueberries.
“Hey!” You glare at your best friend, snatching the bowl of fruit away before any more berries end up on the floor. “Do you know how much blueberries cost these days? They’re not in season right now and—”
“Blah blah,” Shoko sticks her tongue out at you. “I’m not saying you have to marry him.. It’s just one date!” She pauses, tone becoming uncharacteristically serious. “I’ve been friends with him since high school… He’s a really nice guy, very respectful.”
“Oh?” You quirk an eyebrow at your roommate, laughter bubbling over your lips. “Very respectful,” you’re giggling now, “I’m sure he’s veryy respectful.”
Shoko groans, hands scrubbing at her face. “You’re unbelievable—I need a cigarette,” she mutters.
“You’re unbelievable! You’re a med student who smokes!” you cry out, flinging an accusatory finger at her.
Shoko just snorts, waving a dismissive hand in your direction as she pats at her pockets for her lighter. “I’m serious though, I think he would be good for you.”
“Sure, he’s exactly what I need,” you reply dryly. “What was his name again? Nanami something���”
“Kento,” Shoko chimes in.
“—Nanami Kento,” you finish, twirling a blueberry between your thumb and index finger. “I’m sure he’s a great person. But you know there’s a reason why I’m never home when your guy friends are over…” You trail off, shrugging as if you’re unbothered, but Shoko sees the way your brows furrow and lips tremble. “Plus, I’m too busy with my dissertation and research to try to have a life,” you huff, easing the tension with some lighthearted humor, popping the berry into your mouth.
Shoko rolls her eyes at you good-naturedly, waggling her brows as she tries to lift your spirits. “What if I showed you a picture of him?”
-
Two photos, a not-so-slick mention of Nanami’s height by Shoko, and a sworn testament to his upstanding character later, you fold.
-
You, 6:47 PM
hey! i’m running late right now, there was an emergency at the lab. can we push the date from 7 to 8? i’m really sorry :(
Nanami Kento, 6:50 PM
Yes, of course. I hope everything is okay, take as long as you need.
You, 6:51 PM
thank you so much! again, i’m really sorry. i should be there by 8 :)
-
Nanami reads your text, slipping his phone into his pocket as he sighs. He had already arrived at the restaurant by the time he saw your first message—it’s too late to leave and come back now. He takes a seat in the waiting area, glancing at the bouquet in his lap. Shoko had threatened to break both his legs if he so much as breathed at you wrong tonight—he hopes you won’t find the flowers too much for a first date.
Nanami thinks back to what he knows about you. He remembers the first time he was at Shoko’s place: you were nowhere in sight (much to the dismay of Gojo, who kept asking Shoko to play matchmaker for him), but Shoko just explained that you were studying late at the library. Every time after that, it was another excuse: Shoko’s roommate can’t come because she’s busy in the lab, busy at the library, busy writing her dissertation, busy running simulations, busy reading papers, busy being a TA, busy meeting with her advisor. He’s only seen you once while at your apartment, and that was because he accidentally walked into your room thinking it was the bathroom: You’d been hunched over your desk, back to the door, and Nanami had immediately walked right back out into the hallway upon his realization that bathrooms didn’t usually contain beds and desks, shutting the door as quickly as possible so as to not disturb you. You hadn’t even turned around by the time he was gone.
That was the first and last time Nanami Kento ever saw you. At least until last week, when he received a text from Shoko detailing your contact info and a winky face, phone lighting up with a call from your roommate moments later.
“Hello?”
“Kentoooo!!! Guess what??” Shoko’s voice is all high pitched and giggly, barely containing her excitement.
Nanami thinks he knows exactly what she’s up to. “What is it?” he ventures.
“My roommate just agreed to go on a date! With you!!” Shoko’s glee is apparent, even through the tinny speaker on Nanami’s phone. “I just sent—”
“I never asked her out,” Nanami cuts in. He’s frowning slightly: not entirely opposed to the idea, just hoping Shoko hasn’t gone and planned your marriage without his knowledge.
Shoko’s sigh echoes loudly over the line, and Nanami winces at the earful he’s sure to be in for. “I know,” she’s rolling her eyes now. “That’s why—if you would just let me finish my sentence—I sent you her number so you could ask her yourself.”
Nanami’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over before he asks, “Why are you doing this?”
Shoko doesn’t miss a beat. “Because you’re both losers with no lives,” she laughs a little at her own joke, then slowly considers her next words. “And… I think you would treat her well—I know you would be good to her, and she deserves that.”
Nanami can tell how much Shoko cares about you, from the way she spoke about you to the way she threatened to buy 51% of his start up’s shares and tank the company if he ever hurt you. Yeah, he really hopes you don’t think he’s coming on too strong with the flowers.
So, Nanami sits in the restaurant patiently, checking his phone ever so often to make sure he hasn’t missed any messages from you, smiling and telling the hostess he’d like to wait a while longer to be seated. And when you do show up—17 minutes earlier than expected—he’s all smiles and reassurances. You’re feeling (and looking) frazzled, apologies spilling out from your mouth like a dam let loose as you follow him and the hostess to your table. But Nanami’s the quintessential gentleman: waving away your guilt and apologetic expression, pulling your chair out for you, handing you the beautiful arrangement of flowers, pouring you a glass of water to help calm you down, insisting you call him Kento.
And though most people wince and attempt to change the topic when you talk research, Kento’s patient as he listens to your ramblings on the roadblocks you face, the students you have to teach, the lack of common sense in the lab. He makes a point to ask questions about your research, finding it interesting because you find it interesting, loving the way your face lights up when you get to describe the implications of your findings.
You hate to admit it, already hearing Shoko’s “I told you so!” in your head as you think to yourself, but Nanami Kento might just be exactly what you need.
Exhibit B: The time you spent 4 consecutive days with your head in a toilet bowl.
Shoko Ieri, 1:58 PM
dude, what the hell are you doing right now???
Nanami Kento, 2:01 PM
What do you mean? I’m working.
Shoko Ieri, 2:01 PM
what could possibly be so important with your company that you’d be working right now??
Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM
It’s 2 PM on a Monday… Am I not supposed to be working right now?
Shoko Ieri, 2:02 PM
you’re so fucking dense you would sink in the dead sea. your girlfriend has been throwing up all day and you’re WORKING?
Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM
Throwing up? What do you mean??
**Incoming call from Nanami Kento**
“Hey assho—”
“What do you mean she’s been throwing up all day?” Kento’s voice is tinged with urgency and worry. “Is she okay? Are you there with her? Can you check her temperature? I’ll be there in—”
“Dude,” Shoko cuts in, “Don’t act like you didn’t know. There’s no way you didn’t know—I mean she’s been hurling like crazy since this morning, and you’re an asshole for not checking up on her.”
Kento’s shocked, and still extremely worried, trying to just get Shoko to focus so he can make sure you’re okay. “I really didn’t know, Ieri, she hasn’t texted me at all today.” His voice is strained, concern evident in his tone. “Please tell me you’re at home with her—is she okay?”
“Well…” Shoko considers how to best put your condition so as to not cause Kento a heart attack, a little confused on why you didn’t tell him anything. “She’s been throwing up pretty steadily throughout the day and she’s got a pretty bad fever.”
“How bad are we talking? I’m driving over right now.”
“104 degrees… 104.6 last I checked,” Shoko winces as she says it, knowing how bad it sounds.
“Oh my god.” The absolute terror in Kento’s voice makes Shoko wince even harder. “Ieri, we need to get her to a hospital—this is serious.”
Shoko shakes her head, reporting dejectedly, “She won’t go. I tried a couple hours ago but she said she doesn’t get paid enough by the school to afford an emergency visit.”
Kento’s at a loss for words.
“She said she’ll be fine since I’m ‘basically a doctor,’” Shoko finishes bitterly.
“T-that’s not… You’re not… Y-you’re just a med student—that’s not the same thing—” Kento thinks he might have a heart attack.
“I know, I know,” Shoko sighs. “But, I don’t think it’s anything too bad. She isn’t throwing up blood, her breath and heart rate are both pretty stable, and she was conscious enough to talk back to me when I tried to get her to the hospital.”
“Okay,” Kento says as he takes deep breaths, trying to not think about you dying or suffering or—“Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll be there soon, then. We can talk later.”
“Alright. Drive safe—I don’t need another patient to look after,” Shoko jokes before hanging up.
5 minutes later, a stressed Nanami Kento is on your doorstep, rushing in as soon as Shoko answers the door, barely listening to what she’s saying as he moves towards your room. And then he’s inside, kneeling before your bed as his eyes dart over your figure, murmuring a gentle, “Hi baby, how are you feeling?”
You blink your eyes open, trying to pull yourself out of that feverish fog blanketing your mind as you slowly register who’s in your line of sight. No… It can’t be. How did he find out? He’s not supposed to be here—you didn’t tell him for a reason.
“Ken?…” You rub at your eyes, sitting up with a whimper as a wave of nausea hits you square in the stomach. “W-why are you here?”
“Because somebody told me you have a 104 fever, and it wasn’t you,” Kento tuts, tone disapproving but eyes gentle.
“Ieri…” you mumble, shaking your head slightly.
“Ieri,” he confirms, shaking his own head—this time at you. “We’ll talk more about that later… Right now, I need to make sure my darling is feeling okay.”
Your mind is still foggy, but your lips quirk up into a small smile as you tease in a small voice, “Your darling is feeling superb.” You give him a weak thumbs up and cheesy grin. “I feel great.”
“Really? Because there’s a bit of vomit on your chin right now,” Kento deadpans, secretly relieved you’re feeling well enough to joke.
And then you cry out in mock outrage, regretting it almost immediately as you clutch at your middle, the outburst costing you a fit of spasms and pain in your stomach. Kento’s mood sobers instantly as he gently rubs at your back, asks if there’s anything he can do for you, adjusting the pillows behind you to help ease you into a more comfortable position.
“You should go,” you whisper as you reach up to grip his hand.
“Now why would I do that?” Kento asks, smiling softly as he feels your hold on his hand tighten.
You turn your face into the pillows, mumbling out a muffled, “I’m sick… and gross. I can’t let you see me like this.” You groan, turning your head back to look at your boyfriend as you caution, “And you’re going to get sick.”
Kento just smiles as he cups your hand between his own. “You never look gross, and I won’t get sick because I don’t overwork myself.”
You huff out a tired sigh, weakly swatting at the hands wrapped around your own as you slur, “It’s rude to torment the sick and dying,” and turn on your side to face the wall—away from your amused caretaker.
-
For the next three days, Kento—with the help of Shoko, (not quite) M.D.—looks after you as you miraculously manage to regurgitate every bit of sustenance you consume. He’s cleaned that metal “throw-up” bowl on your nightstand—meant to be used in case you couldn’t get to the bathroom in time—more times that he can count. He’s changed your sheets, helped you to the bathroom, and dutifully cooked light soups and stews, spooning them into your mouth before inevitably patting your back reassuringly as you throw it up into the toilet. Most of all, he’s poked and prodded you with that goddamn thermometer: if you had the strength to, you’d steal it right out of his hands and tell him to quit being a mother hen.
But Kento just can’t help his worrying. To take care of you, he’s been staying the night over, sleeping on that couch in the living room he’s definitely too large for. Even Shoko feels a little bad for him, watching him dutifully set alarms for every other hour so he can check up on you throughout the night. The two of them work in tandem to make sure you’re okay, combining the power of Shoko’s education with Kento’s sheer stress to maximize your care.
And when you finally come to—when the haze clouding your thoughts finally clears—he’s just as patient and gentle as he has been over the past few days.
“You’ve gotta stop overworking yourself, sweetheart,” Kento murmurs into the top of your head.
“I can rest when I’m dead,” you protest, twisting from your position on his chest to make a show out of the dramatic wink you send his way.
Kento groans. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he says with a sigh, helping you curl back up on top of him.
You giggle, breath fanning out against his collarbone, amused by Kento’s exasperation. “Thanks for taking care of me though, Ken. You’re the best,” you whisper softly, turning to pressing a kiss against his neck.
“Of course, darling,” he replies quietly, voice full of love. Then, louder, feigning nonchalance, Kento announces, “But if you don’t start taking better care of yourself, you’ll be on your own, and I’ll just watch from a distance and say ‘I told you so’ when you get sick.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me!” you pout, frowning at the thought of him purposely ignoring you.
Kento sighs, pretending to be upset, “You’re right. I wouldn’t do that.” He reports dejectedly, “I just love you too much,” practically able to feel your smile at his words against his skin. “But—” he leans down and tilts your head up to look at him, thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place to maintain steady eye contact. “—the next time you’re sick or in need of help, you’ll tell me directly.” His voice is serious, as firm as his grip on your chin and it makes you nervous, like you’re in trouble, eyes darting around to avoid his gaze. “No trying to hide it, no making me worry. I shouldn’t have found out about your fever from Ieri—you should have told me yourself. I don’t want you hiding things from me, especially if it’s about your health and well-being. Got it?”
You’ve tensed up against Kento, heart hammering in your throat as you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. His free hand moves to soothe your back—trying to show that he’s not angry with you—as he drops his hand from your chin, eyes tracking the way you hang your head to avoid looking at him.
And then, after a bout of anxiousness, you nod, stealing a glance up at Kento to gauge his mood as you start, “I’m sorry, Ken, I didn’t mean to worry you.” You take a deep breath before you continue, “I just didn’t want to bother you. I knew you’d drop everything if you heard I was sick and it wouldn’t have been fair for me to take advantage of you like that.” You pick at a piece of lint on his shirt, avoiding catching his eye and aiming for humor as you add, “And nobody wants to watch their partner throw up, it’s gross. I couldn’t let you fall out of love with me like that.”
Kento cracks a smile. “Darling, if you think throwing up in front of me is going to make me stop loving you, I need to do a much better job of showing you how much you mean to me.”
You huff out a laugh at that, but he’s not done, cupping your hands with his own as he looks down at you. “And you’re never a bother, baby, ever. I’m never going to be upset with you for letting me know you’re not feeling well—and you won’t be ‘taking advantage’ of me by letting me know. It’s my own choice to take care of you and it makes me happy to do it.”
You’re looking down at where Kento’s hands are wrapped around your own, but you nod, letting his words sink in as you duck your head back down into the crook of his neck. “Thanks, Ken,” you whisper, trying to hide how relieved and emotional him saying that makes you feel. “That means… a lot to me. I’ll promise I won’t hide things from you anymore.”
Your boyfriend smiles, replying with a soft “good girl” as he runs his thumb along the back of your hand. He’s glad you’re opening up, and as you doze off on him, exhausted from your past couple of days and lulled to sleep by the comfortable silence and gentle caresses, he feels a surge of affection settle over his heart.
Exhibit C: The time you he won a stuffed lion at the fair.
Today is a special day. There are no papers to grade, no students to teach, no presentations or talks to prepare, and your research has reached a point where you can confidently take a few days off to rest. Naturally, you decide to optimize this golden opportunity by doing only the essentials: Scheduling a long overdue doctor’s appointment, deep cleaning your apartment, spending as much time with Kento as possible, going to the fair…. Just the essentials!
So—essentially—you’re at the fair with Kento, ignoring your ever growing list of responsibilities in favor of overpriced food and rigged carnival games. Kento’s already sporting a large tote on one shoulder, ready to collect all the prizes you’re eager to win.
Three hours, six stuffed animals, a pizza, two churros, a basket of fries, five rides, and a petting zoo later, you find yourself surveying the prizes on display in front of the cursed ring toss.
“Awww, Ken look at that one!” You’re pointing to a stuffed lion sitting amongst the prizes. “It kinda looks like you, don’t you think?”
The face Kento’s making right now can only be described as… distaste. “No… Love, I don’t see the resemblance.”
“No, no, no, look at the color! It looks just like your hair,” you exclaim, gasping and pointing once more as you realize, “Hey! It even has a little frown on its face! Do you see it Ken?”
“I don’t frown that often,” Kento says with a frown. “I’m quite happy when I’m with you.”
You burst into a fit of laughter, wishing he could have watched himself say that. “Sure, Ken,” you drawl, patting him on the shoulder as you get in line for the game, set on winning his lion-lookalike.
However, after 4 tries and an absurd amount of money, you decide to call for backup.
"Kennn," you singsong as you turn to look at him with big, pleading eyes. "Can you help me win this game?"
Kento's heart sinks, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he'd do anything to make you happy. On the other hand, if he helps you win the lion, he'll spend the rest of his days hearing "Awww.. Isn't he just so cute?? He looks just like you, baby!" about a stuffed, over-evolved house cat.
But, in the end, the little angel on his shoulder (with a voice that sounds suspiciously similar to yours) wins. As Kento steps up for his try, he half considers putting no effort in and losing the game just so you won’t be able to correlate his good looks to a stuffed animal. Then, he (or maybe the little angel up there) decides he can’t do that to you—it would just be too cruel.
So, Kento gets ready for his turn: rolling his sleeves up, passing you the bag on his shoulder, and sighing without meaning to.
His first try is a failure. Each of the 5 rings supplied magically bounced off the bottlenecks, frustrating him to no end. “This game is rigged, sweetheart. We should find something else to play,” Kento grumbles, turning away from the booth with an irritated expression.
You shake your head, insisting, “But this is the only game we’ve seen that has that stuffed lion!” Then, you bring out the big guns, clasping your hands together and widening your eyes, begging, “Please, Ken..”
Aaaand…. He’s a goner, always so soft and willing when it comes to you.
Reinvigorated by your pleading and determined to make you happy, your boyfriend sets out on a mission to win you that stuffed lion.
After his first try, Kento sighs so hard you think you might physically feel the wind from it tickling at your forehead.
After his second try, Kento turns to you and drops a sweet little kiss on your nose to remind himself why he’s subjecting himself to this frustrating torture.
After his third try, Kento runs a hand through his hair, readjusting his sleeves with more force than necessary as he squints menacingly at the table of glass bottles.
After his fourth try, you tug at his wrist, telling him, “You don’t have to keep trying, Ken. It’s okay.” You feel guilty watching him get more and more frustrated, but he smiles, patting the back of your hand as he tells you it’s okay.
After his fifth try, Kento looks up at the stuffed lion as he takes a deep, calming breath, trying to stay focused on winning the prize and not how annoying this blatantly rigged game is.
After his sixth try, you’re seriously impressed by Kento’s ability to remain calm. You practically had steam coming out of your ears with each of your missed throws, but he’s taking this like a champ—maybe you’ll read some of his self help books to learn his ways.
After his seventh try, Kento curses under his breath, beginning to lose his cool.
After his eighth try, Kento thinks it might be time to start believing in a deity: Maybe he would have won on his first or second try with divine intervention on his side.
And then! After returning to purchase almost ten consecutive attempts and officially creeping out the worker managing the booth, Kento’s fourth ring finally finds its place around the neck of a bottle!!
You jump up and down and clap in celebration, elated by Kento’s victory. He immediately turns toward you, excitement written across his features as he wraps you up in a hug. You’re giggling and pressing kisses onto his cheek, murmuring thank you’s against his skin as you both grin ear to ear—both entirely too old to be so elated over a win at the carnival.
And even as you tease him, holding the stuffed toy up next to his face in comparison, he thinks his patience may have just paid off.
Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.
That’s why, as you break down in front of him, he’s patient.
Just minutes ago, you’d been okay—you’d been more than okay. Seated on Kento’s lap, breath heavy as he scattered kisses across your face—moving from cheek to nose to lips to forehead—you’d been beyond okay.
Nothing had been too out of the ordinary: though Kento wasn’t a voracious and demanding lover, the two of you had shared more than a fair amount of kisses and “makeout sessions.” And you enjoyed these kisses, these “sessions,” but you also enjoyed keeping it at that, never progressing further than a few wandering touches and a lost shirt or two. Kento, always happy to follow your lead, to respect your boundaries, would never press further when you’d break away and ask to go to bed, to watch the movie, to cook dinner together.
Tonight, you planned on spending the night together at Kento’s apartment. Falling asleep and waking up next to Kento might be one of your favorite things in the world: his hair is always perfectly mussed, voice deep and raspy, and touch gentle and loving. You always wake up happy and warm all over when you feel his arm around your middle, breath hot on your ear as he murmurs a low “Good morning, darling.”
So, you show up at Kento’s place at around 6, a bag of groceries on your arm, just like usual. The two of you work together in the kitchen, each spoon feeding the other small taste-tests, just like usual. Dinner is a quiet, romantic affair, intimate and sweet, just like usual. After the wining and dining, you two curl up in bed and watch an episode of that show you’re slowly making your way through together, just like usual.
And when you end up straddling him, TV already shut off, fingers gently twisting in his soft, golden hair, Kento thinks he can get used to this being added to your usual. His hands are splayed out across your back, keeping you close to his chest as he smiles into your swollen, kiss-bitten lips. And when he starts dropping sweet little kisses—like a saint delivering small blessings—all over your face, who are you to hold back that little whimper in the back of your throat? Who is Kento to deny the surge of desire flaring low in his stomach at your reactions? His hands slip underneath your shirt, playing with the band of your bra as you squirm against him and tilt your head up to kiss him again. He moves further—further than he’s ever gone with you—and runs a finger along the underside of the waistband of your pants, brushing a knuckle against the soft skin of your pelvis.
That’s when everything changes.
The second you feel Kento touch you lower than your stomach you freeze up, jerking away from the soft kiss you’d been caught up in. Your eyes go wide and you scramble off of his lap, breath frantic as you try to calm the spike of panic blurring your senses. You’re trying to keep an eye on Kento—on his movements and expressions and demeanor—but it’s hard with how suddenly you’ve become overwhelmed and it makes you feel scared, the way you don’t know what exactly he’s going to do next.
It was just one touch, it’s okay. He doesn’t know, he didn’t mean it, he wasn’t trying to... It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s—
“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” Kento tries to soothe you, but you look at him like you’re… scared of him and he hates himself for frightening you so bad.
What happened?
He thinks he might have an idea of what may have set you off, and as your breathing becomes more and more erratic, he begins to worry.
“Baby,” Kento starts, tone gentle. “Has someone ever… hurt you like this? By touching you?”
The way you flinch at his words is enough to confirm his suspicions, but Kento stays quiet, waiting for you to respond.
You don’t want to tell him. Your eyes keep darting around, nervous gaze cast down onto the blanket as you think about how you should lie—
But, wait. You promised Kento that you wouldn’t hide things from him, that you’d tell him things about your health and well-being. You really shouldn’t lie to him, not about this, but you really don’t want to tell him.
You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to say that it was your fault, that maybe you deserved it. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to start treating you like you’re dirty or shameful, like an embarrassing secret. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to get angry at you for not telling him sooner, because maybe he wouldn’t have loved you all this time—wasted all this time—if he knew. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to tell you that it isn’t a big deal, that you don’t have a right to be so upset over something like this, that you’re overreacting. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want to ruin this peaceful little thing between you and him with your own issues and nightmares. You don’t want to tell him because—
Crap. You’ve been stuck in your own head for too long. The air feels thick with an awkwardly long silence as you scramble to mash together an appropriate response, but Kento’s patient and he waits without judgement, kind eyes filled with worry.
And you really don’t want to tell him, eyes welling up with tears because you’re stressed and anxious and not sure about what you’re supposed to do.
Finally, you decide to just lie, choking out a pained, “No—” as hot tears spill over your cheeks. You feel horrible and guilty for lying, knowing that Kento has never been anything but upfront and honest with you, but you’ve never been as good and brave as him so you let the lie spread its wings and shield you.
Your breath is coming out in short, stuttered pants as you try to fight the wave of anxiety attempting to drown you, hands coming up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your choked sobs.
You feel horrible.
You feel horrible for lying.
You feel horrible because you ruined the moment of fun you were having with Kento.
You feel horrible for this breakdown, even if you know you can’t help it, because Kento doesn’t deserve to have to deal with this baggage he didn’t ask for.
You feel horrible because being with Kento has helped you come so far out of your shell, but now it feels like it’s all been ruined, like no matter how much progress you make, you’ll never be able to fully heal, fully escape.
You feel horrible because you can’t get those memories out of your head.
You feel horrible because you keep thinking about the last time someone touched you where Kento did.
You feel horrible for ever correlating Kento and his goodness to that person, even if it’s just in your head, even if you can’t help it, even if it’s involuntary because you’re scared.
You just feel horrible. You feel horrible about everything. And when Kento reaches for you, moving to try and gently tug at your wrist, worried about your frantic breathing and the way you seem to be trying to stop your breathing altogether with your shaking hands, you feel even worse.
When you see Kento’s hand move toward your face, you flinch so hard you choke, gasping behind your palm as you squeeze your eyes shut, shoulders tightening up with fear. You’re so on edge right now and your vision is too blurry with tears to properly gauge if he’s angry at you or not, so you just figure he is. You figure he’s seen through your lie and he’s upset with you, upset for a multitude of reasons that just overwhelm you further. You figure that if your tears dried you’d look up and find an angry Kento looming above you, brows pulled low and lips stretched into a disgusted sneer.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Kento gently murmurs, pulling his hand back, interrupting your self-destructive thoughts. “I need you to take a few deep breaths with me—think you can do that for me baby?”
Numbly, through all the noise in your mind, you follow Kento’s voice like a lifeline, nodding with an uncoordinated jerk of your neck.
“Good girl,” he praises you kindly. “Now I’m gonna need you to move your hands away from your mouth,” Kento instructs, adding softly, “Gotta stop holding your breath sweetheart, gotta let yourself breathe, even if your breathing isn’t quite right yet.”
Taking a shuddering breath, you nod again, dropping your hands from your mouth. But, once your hands drop, you stop trying to control your gasping breathing and begin to panic at the heavy heaving of your chest. Now, you’re breathing too irregularly and awkwardly: inhaling when you need to exhale and exhaling over your exhales and struggling to just take a solid breath in because your lungs won’t listen.
Because you’re breathing too rapidly, you’re simultaneously suffocating and breathing too much, escalating your panic. You’re scared and getting lightheaded and it’s too much—one hand comes up to muffle your mouth again almost immediately.
However, this time Kento is prepared, and his voice pulls you back to reality as he murmurs, “Ohhh, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice is low and sweet and it makes you pause, instinctively wanting to listen. “I know it’s scary, but you have to keep your hand away from your mouth. Don’t try to restrict your breathing—there you go, there’s my good girl.”
You’ve tugged your hand away again, placing it in your lap as you blink up at Kento through watery lashes.
“Alright, sweetheart, now I want you to focus on your breathing. I’m going to take a few deep breaths and I want you to try to match your breathing with mine,” he says gently. “Does that sound okay?”
You nod shakily, panic ebbing slightly as you listen to his familiar voice and begin to follow the slow rhythm he sets.
“Inhale…. Exhale…”
“Inhale…” Exhale.
Inhale… Exhale….
“Good girl, that was perfect. You’re doing amazing, love,” he praises. You know he’s just being kind—your breath is stuttering and you’re involuntarily mixing up the inhales and exhales—but Kento’s reassurance makes you feel safe and calm regardless.
After a few more cycles of breath, the dizziness fades and oxygen begins steadily flowing through your lungs as you follow Kento’s lead.
Inhale… “Exhale…”
“Inhale… Exhale…”
Inhale… Exhale….
As you continue to try to control your breathing, you reach out to pick up his hand, trying to silently bridge the gap between you two, making the small first move to show him that you’re slowly becoming more comfortable and grounded. He lets you lace your hand in his, thumb comfortingly brushing against the skin of your hand, the touch gently reassuring you that you’re safe.
Soon, you feel confident enough to wordlessly move towards Kento, letting him wrap you up in a comforting embrace. Being in his arms always makes you feel better, and now that you’ve calmed down enough to realize that he’s not going to hurt you, you press yourself into his chest, searching for his steady patience and gentle manner. Your breathing has evened out, and your mind has cleared enough for you to begin flipping back on what just happened. Kento stays quiet, letting you sort through the cascade of emotions you just experienced, but the silence doesn’t feel hostile—it’s welcoming and patient.
You were kissing Kento, and then he.. he touched you and it freaked you out, and then he was talking to you and… And then he asked you a question. He asked if… He wanted to know if—
Oh my god. You lied to him.
Oh god. You need to apologize—own up to what you did and tell him the truth. But as you think about what to do, your breath begins to stumble over itself again and your heart rate picks up, anxiety taking over your senses.
Your eyes fill up with tears and you look up at Kento, saying in a small voice, “Ken? I… I lied to you… earlier.” Your words are continually interrupted by an emerging pattern of involuntary breaths and hiccups, but you continue on, “I… When y-you asked… S-someone has hurt—hurt me.. before… I lied to—to you.”
You’re fully crying now, and Kento tries calming you down, rubbing your back carefully, heart sinking at your tears and the way your breathing begins to turn into struggling gasps again.
“Oh, darling. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into the top of your head, continuing to gently soothe your back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Thank you for telling me—my brave, brave girl.”
Kento’s heart hurts. It hurts knowing that you’ve been hurt in the past, that you’re sobbing in his arms because someone hurt you. It hurts knowing that you felt too scared to tell him the truth, and it hurts even more knowing that you feel scared to admit that you lied. He wants you to feel comfortable with him—to know that you should never be scared of him.
“I-Im,” you choke out through gasping breaths, “‘m sorry—I’m sorry, so—sorry. I’m sorry, K-Ken.”
You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for, you just know that you need to be apologizing for something. Maybe you’re apologizing for lying. Maybe you’re apologizing for having been assaulted. Maybe you’re apologizing to try to appease Kento so he won’t be as angry with you for your betrayal—for not being the person he thought you were. Maybe you’re apologizing for not letting him continue to touch you—for stopping before you’re hurt again.
But Kento just shakes his head kindly, patting your back good-naturedly in response. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Shhhh, shhhhhh, you’re okay, it’s okay, shhhhh,” he coaxes gently.
“I’m sorry—sorry, ‘m really sorry f-for lying to you.” You keep apologizing, barely registering his words to you. All of your guilt from everything has cumulated, and though you’re apologizing for lying, deep down you’re apologizing for much, much more.
“It’s okay, darling,” Kento tells you quietly, ever so patient as you choke on sob after sob. “I’m not upset with you, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not angry, baby.”
His voice is so achingly gentle, and the way he rubs circles into your back makes your heart break and shatter. How can a person be filled with so much good? You expected anger and rejection, but Kento is being so accepting and sweet it makes you break down into tears. After being mistreated for so long, it feels odd to be embraced so wholly and kindly, and you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated with so much care.
Kento, however, is on a mission to make you feel better. He gracefully waves off your apologies, insisting that it’s okay, that you have nothing to be sorry for. Instead, he apologizes, bowing his head as he begs your forgiveness for overstepping your boundaries. When you shake your head vehemently, insisting he didn’t do anything wrong, he just scolds you gently, “You don’t need to take the blame for everything—it’s okay to give yourself a break. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m deeply sorry. I pushed you past what you were comfortable with and it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
That makes you go quiet, the silence split only by your uneven and choppy breathing—remnants of the tears still sporadically tumbling from your lashes. Kento’s apology is earnest, and his insistence that you not blame yourself makes you see the situation in a new light.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s okay for you to give yourself a break once in a while. Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong and you’re just so used to being told it was your fault that you’ve come to believe it. Maybe, even if he didn’t mean you any harm, he still hurt you, and you deserved his apology for the way it scared you.
You’re silent for a little while longer, but then you reach up and pat him on the head, fluffy strands of hair ruffled by the act of affection.
“Thank you, Ken,” you tell him with a sweet, forgiving smile. “Thank you for apologizing, but I don’t blame you for what happened. You didn’t know my exact boundaries and you didn’t mean to hurt me. It’s okay, really.”
However, there’s still one more thing in the back of your mind bothering you.
“But… Do you still.. want to be with me? I mean, does it bother you that—that—” You break off, unable to finish your sentence.
“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, love.” Kento pulls back slightly, one arm cradling your back as the other moves to wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “This doesn’t change anything, okay? You’re still the same person I fell in love with, and I’m not ‘bothered’ by anything about you. Nothing about this is your fault, and I would never treat it as such.”
You nod, relief written all over your face as you breathe out, “Okay, okay.”
“Seriously,” he huffs. “Where are you getting these silly ideas from? I would never leave you, especially not over this.”
Kento seems almost offended that you think he’d stoop so low, tapping your nose as he clucks his tongue in disapproval. You just shrug self-consciously, a little flustered by how sincere he’s being.
“Okay, then,” you sigh dramatically, scrubbing away at the last of your tears. “I guess I’ll have to just take one for the team and stay with you forever—since you’re obviously so obsessed with me.”
“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “You’re quite generous, entertaining this obsession.”
“Yup,” you confirm, waving a dismissive hand as you continue in a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s your lucky day. I’m running a one-night special where I grant the favors of my fans.” A grin is slowly making its way onto your face, and your smile bleeds into your tone when you tease, “Don’t get too excited though—I know it’s big news.”
Kento has the most lovesick look on his face as he looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, I’m certainly one lucky fan.”
And you giggle at that, wrapping your arms around his middle as you snuggle into his hold. “You’re my favorite fan,” you mumble into his shirt, pressing your cheek against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.
“Hey, does that mean you have other fans you like?”
bonus:
“What are you watching?” You ask, poking your head over Kento’s shoulder to peek at the video he’s watching on his phone.
He jumps up, shutting off the screen immediately, stuttering, “N-nothing, darling.”
You’re unconvinced, reaching for his phone as you squint at him. “Really? You seem awfully jumpy for someone doing ‘nothing,’” you deadpan. Then, you narrow your eyes, accusing, “You better not be watching extra episodes of that kdrama you said you hated without me. I know you secretly love it—it’s okay, you can admit it!”
You’ve got a smug grin on your face and Kento doesn’t even try to fight it as you enter the passcode to his phone (your birthday, of course), accepting defeat and rubbing at his temples as the screen unlocks to the Youtube video he’d been watching. He’d rather endure the teasing than try to wrestle the device away from you and accidentally hurt or scare you in the process.
“‘Helping Someone Who Is Having A Panic Attack,’” you read out loud, glancing up at your boyfriend as your eyes widen, grin slowly fading. You click on his watch history, jaw dropping as you see his recently played videos.
What Is A Panic Attack?
How To Help Your Friend During A Panic Attack
Signs Of Hyperventilation And How To Stop Hyperventilating
Best Breathing Technique To Calm Panic Attacks And Anxiety
What NOT To Say To Someone Who Is Having An Anxiety Attack
“Oh my.. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ken.” Your eyes have welled up with tears. You can’t believe he’s been researching how to help you—you don’t even have words to describe how emotional this makes you feel.
Kento has a sheepish look on his face, a little embarrassed you caught him binging those videos. “Yeah… I uh..” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Just wanted to… yknow…” He shrugs, and it’s pathetic and lame and it makes you love him that much more. “Wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing… Just in case you ever get… scared.. again.” He coughs a little, looking self-conscious. “Not—not that I think it’ll happen again but—”
You cut him off before he can get another word in, practically suffocating him as you wrap him up in a tight hug. Your arms around his neck are squeezing, but Kento doesn’t make any moves to stop you. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist, turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek as you whisper, “Thank you,” voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
if you've made it this far: thank you for reading :) please take care of yourself, and for all of my survivors out there, please know that it's not your fault, never will be your fault, and never has been your fault!! i love you all and i hope everybody has a great rest of their summer :D
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AITA for "not forgiving" my mom because she ate my chocolate chips?
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This is probably a ridiculous argument but I genuinely don't know if I'm in the wrong or if my mom's an asshole, so, here we go.
I (mid 20s M) like to make pancakes for dinner sometimes. I tend to accompany them with chocolate chips, honey, and banana. I only make the pancakes for myself and not for my mom (mid 50s F), whom I live with, because she's in a "keto diet" and doesn't want to eat carbohydrates, which is an entire argument on its own, but it is not the focus (although relevant).
Some time ago (from the date I sent this, two or three weeks ago I think???) I accompanied my mom to buy some groceries, and I bought a bag of chocolate chips for myself, alongside other things for my pancakes (like flour and banana). I left them on the cupboard (except the banana ofc), and I expected them to, y'know, stay there.
Except a week or so ago I was looking through the cupboard looking for something else and noticed the chocolate chips bag wasn't there. My mom does have an awful tendency of eating my food or at least things that were bought by ME to be consumed by ME, so I straight up asked her if she ate them and she said "yes :(" almost ashamed. I honestly got pissed off due to the previously mentioned fact that this is not a first time thing, and then she started saying things like "well it's chocolate" and "I didn't ate them all at once I ate them slowly" and "you left them there for a long time" and "I bought them anyway", with the last thing being a lie because I bought them with MY money, thing she apparently "forgot".
I honestly haven't "forgiven" her yet, and with "forgiven" I mean I still expect her to go to that place and buy the chips again, this time with her money, and I told her so multiple times. But she's meanwhile expecting me to go with her again to that place and buy them with my money... when I shouldn't because I already bought them before! And she ate them! But now she's telling me I'm exaggerating and that in big families there's no such thing as "my food" or "someone else's food", everything's shared. And yeah, as you can guess from this now, I'm an only child (and only grandchild and the only nephew my child-free uncle has), so I guess the only point she has is that I'm not used to have to share things with siblings or cousins.
So Tumblr, I'm an asshole for expecting to have my own food and not wanting to share with my mom, or she's the asshole for taking things that weren't bought with her in mind?
Note: By the time I sent this ask, she also ate an entire jar of honey and crackers I also bought with my money a few nights ago because "she couldn't sleep, was anxious and thought she could calm down with eating". This is the second jar of honey in the month I buy that she ends up eating on her own and that I meanwhile could barely consume anything of. I didn't even opened the crackers.
Note 2: You can eat chocolate in keto diets as long as it is dark chocolate, but this one was milk chocolate. Honey and crackers are definitely not keto. So she's breaking her own precious diet.
What are these acronyms?
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leafleaf · 3 months
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Forbidden Fruit pt. 2
Summary: Luke asks for the help of some special people in Y/n's life to help plan her perfect ideal date.
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Warnings: Fluff, ermm not much I don't think, jut a finisher of the date. Not proof read! Fem! Dionysus! Reader,
A/n: Someone asked for a pt 2, so here we are. - Leafy
Okay, Luke had until 7:00 pm to plan something anything for his date with Y/n. It was about 3:00 O'clock, "4 hours" Luke thought to himself. What better plan is there other than to go to Silena Beuregard? Because not only was she Y/n's best friend, she was also in Cabin 10, so she should be like, a professional? Right?
Luke seemed like an idiot. He really had to go to someone one else to plan a date for Y/n. He just wanted everything to be perfect. Nothing could go wrong, he wanted everything to be perfect, just like Y/n.
So here Luke was, standing in front of Aphrodite Cabin. He knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" he heard a voice ring from the inside. It was most definitely Silena. He and her have only interacted a couple times, mainly only talking about Y/n.
"It's Luke, I wanted to ask a favor Silena." He semi shouted so he can be heard from the inside. She opened the door and peaked her head out.
"What type of favor?" She asked suspiciously.
"I'm taking Y/n on a date later at 7:00 and I have no, idea what I should do, and since you're her best friend I was thinking that maybe you coul-" Silena cut him off with a shriek.
"Yes! Finally!!" She exclaimed. "I'll SO help you, I've got so many ideas" She said excitedly as she pulled him into the cabin.
After about 2 hours Silena and Luke cooked up the best date ever, and set it up in your favorite place at camp. As they were walking back to the cabins Luke thanked Silena, all she said was.
"Listen Luke, we've been waiting for you to ask Y/n out for ages. Literally everyone at camp was rooting for you. So trust me, I've been waiting to do this. Now leave because I guarantee Y/n is going to pop up out of no where to get ready so. Go put on your best outfit." Silena ranted
"Will do." Luke said trying to act his coolest when really he was so nervous.
Silena was right.
Y/n had come banging on Cabin 10's door at around 5:30 ish, her make up was already done. Y/n only did makeup on special occasions. This was a really special occasion. "Silena!! Siliena open up! I know you're in there!" she shouted.
"Jeez woman give me a minute, its only been about 0.5 seconds since your first knock" Silena joked.
"Help me pick a dress, I've got a date with Luke, and I don't know what to where." Y/n said as she dropped all 6 of her dress options and sighed lying on Silena's bunk.
"Alright, you already know what time it is." Silena said with anticipation. "Fashion show!!!" She said. "Come on let me see option one."
The first 5 options were not doing it for Y/n. Either is was too short, the color wasn't right, nothing felt right on her. Until the very last dress. This was the dress. It fit perfectly in all of the right places, flowed to just above her knees, just how she liked it. And the color was a beautiful stunning white, with little pink flowers printing the fabric. The straight lining on her bust was adorned with a beautiful sheer lace.
"Now that one, that's the one" Silene said. "I think so too." Y/n said. It was now about 6:50 "Shoot! I need to get back to my cabin it's about to be 7:00!" Y/n said scrambling to pick up the other 5 dresses she had. "Thank you Silena!" she hugged and kissed her cheek "I love you lots, owe you big time!" As she rushed out of the door.
Y/n had made it to her cabin, thank the gods without seeing Luke. She wanted to be surprised and vice versa.
"Why are you all dressed up?" One of your brothers asked you. Being a child on Dionysus had its perks, it was only you, and your two older brothers.
"None of your business." Y/n stated, she really did not want to be embarrassed by her older brothers.
"You're going on a date aren't you?" You're other brother pressed. "With who?" he asked strangely calmly. There was no hiding from your brothers.
"Luke from cabin 11.." you muttered.
"LUKE? LIKE HERMES LUKE?" There was an uproar of both of them discussing ways to scare him away. Y/n was going to put an end to it when there was a knock at the door. The three of them looked at each other, then at the door. Y/n was the first to move, and made it to the door before her brothers could. They may be fast. But she was faster. She creeped the door open awkwardly.
There Luke was, Looking nervous as ever, holding a bouquet of Y/n's favorite flowers, in his nicest outfit possible, which so happened to align with Y/n's color scheme.
"Hey Luke! " She looked up at him. She thought Luke looked like the most handsome guy on Earth. "You look.." She was cut off
"Y/n you better tell him you're not going on that date!" You're brother screamed. Y/n looked continued staring at Luke.
"Give me one second" Y/n said. Luke couldn't really make out what she was yelling about, something about how she was growing up already and she wasn't a little girl now, plus something about how Mr. D already approved. Suddenly it was quite
The door opened again and Luke straightened up. Now all three of the siblings came out with Y/n leading them. "Uhm..My brothers wanted to meet you before we left, I'm sure you talked to them before" She said.
"Yeah, uhm Hi. I'm here to take Y/n on a date." Luke stated the obvious.
"Yeah, we know." The two brothers were now towering Luke, Luke was about the same height as both of them but there was two of them and one of him. "Just have her back by 11. And I swear to the gods Castellan. If you do anything that hurts her in the tiniest-" He was cut off.
"Okay! Well me and Luke have to get going." Y/n said as she clapped her hands. She said goodbye to her older brothers with a hug and grabbed Luke's hand to walk as fast as she could away from her crazy over protective family.
As soon as they got as far away as they could Y/n apologized. "I'm sorry for the way that they acted, my whole family is just really over protective." She said.
"It's okay, I mean I get it, you're so beautiful they're probably fighting off boys left and right." Luke joked. "Oh, uhm.. these are for you." He said holding up the freshly made bouquet. "And, you look gorgeous tonight, I mean not that you don't always look gorgeous but I-"
"I love it Luke, thank you. You don't look too bad yourself. " Y/n said cutting off his ramble. "So, what do you have in store for me Luke."
"Do you trust me?" He said holding up a blindfold. If Y/n was being honest, she was a bit nervous. But she answered without a beat.
"Yes," and so Luke tied the blind fold on her, not too tight, but just enough to stay. He led Y/n with his hands. They definitely were no where near the cabins now.
Y/n knew where they were the second she felt the pebbly floor beneath her shoes, and heard the waves of the shore. They were on the Lake's Beachside, her favorite spot on camp.
"Are you ready?" Luke said. Y/n silently nodded. As he took off the blindfold, careful not to ruin her hair or makeup. she gasped.
"Luke.." her voice was just above a whisper. "This is.." Luke was extra nervous now. "This is so amazing." She turned around and jumped in his arms. "Thank you!"
"Of course, anything for you." he said as he gripped her waist.
The sun was setting perfectly, and the picnic looked so beautiful. The blanket that was lied out had all of Y/n and Luke's favorites. everything was perfect, they laughed and talked. They lied and cuddled together. As they sat with their heads watched the sunset Luke turned to Y/n she looked so perfect with her e/c eyes shining in the sun. She was just glowing. "Y/n, can I ask you something?"
"Yeah'?" She answered and turned to him.
"Can I be your boyfriend?" He asked as he stared into her eyes.
She smiled and started nodding "Yes"
"I have another question."
"Yeah?'
"Can I kiss you?"
Luke didn't have to do anything before Y/n's lips were on his the force of her kiss bringing them both down to lay on the blanket. Luke braced them for the impact and his hands instinctively went to her waist to stable her on top of him. They kissed until they were breathless.
As they pulled apart breathing heavily, foreheads still together. They looked at each other and laughed.
Y/n and Luke could most definitely get used to this
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kitchenlittle · 1 year
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I want to make a little PSA and warning about future content being posted to my page very soon. I will not stand for the slander of writers who choose to write about Miles Morales due to popularity of the movies. Let me make something clear since it seems there are many fake Marvel Fans out there who know nothing about the universes. THERE ARE UNIVERSES WHERE MILES IS ALREADY AN ADULT.
Earth-8 comes to mind where Miles is LITTERALY a full grown MAN MARRIED TO GWEN STACY and they have 2 CHILDREN TOGETHER. Their names are Charlotte and Max Morales. LOOK IT UP IF YOU DONT BELIEVE.
Every universe has a differing age/look from the Miles Morales we see in the movies and know why? BECAUSE THERE IS DARN NEAR THOUSAND IF NOT INFINITE universes of Miles. SO YES. There is a universe with events just like the movie with slight differences and Miles over the age of 18. So litteraly any story about about Miles would litteraly be cannon in someway!
Just like how we can have a Adult Peter Parkers like in the movie exist at the same time as underage Peter Parkers like Tom Holland's. Or should I say," -Dr. Strange and the little nerd on Earth 199999 (AKA Tom Holland)"~Miguel O'hara. And if you were paying attention to the movies you'd know that Miles cannonly exist in live-action human form. Uncle Aaron played by musician and actor childish gamebino mentions he has a nephew who wants to protect to Spiderman. You see that same prowler Childish Gambino Uncle Aaron captured in the new movie. He was captured by Hobie Brown and locked uo as anamoly needing to be sent back to his universe. Meaning that Adult Miles can exist at the same time as kid Miles!
NOT ONLY THAT. But here is some hyprocracy I have found. THE ANIME FANDOM. The most popular characters in the anime are 15- 16. FROM Deku and Bakugou FROM MY HERO, to Luffy FROM ONEPEICE, to Sukuna/Yuji from JUJITSU KAISEN and many many more. Most main characters are highschool age. HOW IS IT? That they can age up charecter that alot of times we will never see 18 or older and write a fanfic sometimes while the charecter in the story is still 15-16 and get a away with it. But Miles Morales authors go out their way to age him up before they even write it and litteraly aren't wrong since their are universe where he is older, are weirdos and pe***. I don't see some anime writers doing that? Make it make sense?
I PERSONALLY DONT EVEN WRITE FOR FOR CHARECTERS THAT DONT HAVE A CANON ADULT VERSION OF THEM AVAILABLE FROM THE OG CREATORS IN MEDIA. Guess who fits the criteria? MILES MORALES.
A message for my unsure authors out there.
~So for all my writers not their scared to post their fics. Label it Earth-8 Miles who is a father and husband to Gwen and say it's a headcannon of what ps happend he's 18-25 before he got married if you feel that weird about it.
Some of ya'll are fake fans who completely missed the point of the movie and it's implications. Don't come in my DMs telling me to take anything down because I'm not. You will be blocked and locked out of interacting with my page. And if you feel uncomfortable block me. Just know if you block you will be missing out of 50+ fics I've been working on 18+ characters for about a year now and will be posting starting in July. It's littersly an event I've been working on called the 'Lemon Fest', since it's my birthday month.
Once again every charcter I write about had a cannon adult version of them made by the creators or is already an adult. I was going to keep this a secret by I've gotta protect my fellow authors especially if they are being wrongly targeted. Wanna get mad? Wanna get angry at some authors? Get mad at the ones the ones that write about you favorite anime charecters that are likely 15-16 then ask them to delete it...oh wait...you won't.. because if done that would litteraly be deleting 3/4 of the fanfiction written on this site.
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Dead Poets Society: Some Thoughts and Analysis
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Essentially a stream of consciousness I had while rewatching the movie today. In chronological order as I was making notes!
✒️ Charlie talks so much with his eyebrows
✒️ Todd is tasked with taking minutes of the meetings, but I don't believe we ever see him actually do so (although it would have been nice if he did)
✒️ Cameron looks so much like a fisherman when he's smoking his pipe
✒️ Cameron's distaste for Charlie (and often for the rest of the boys) is evident super early on (e.g. when they walk out of Mr Keating's first class and Cameron says "do you think he'll test us on that stuff?" And, when he gets shut down, he throws a very angry look at Charlie and the poets. This happens several times, but as far as I remember we never see Cameron retaliate.) From this, while I don't like it, I understand why Cameron did what he did at the end of the movie because I think he felt undermined by the others and he was considered 'useful' and 'smart' for the school
✒️ Also, I do not accept that Cameron's name is Richard Cameron, he's pulling a Zendaya and goes by one name only
✒️ Mr Keating looks so disappointed in Charlie when saying "Thank you, Mr Dalton, you just illustrated the point"
✒️ I think Knox kissing Chris at the party, while somewhat gross, is necessary to show that Carpe Diem isn't always the right thing to do, as is Charlie putting the article in the paper  - i think maybe Chris not ending up with Knox would have hammered this home, especially because she seems perfectly happy with Chet. Of course, Chet's response to what happened at the party isn't fair, but it is definitely what I can see a teenage boy on the high school football team in the 50's doing. Don't choke on the bone, Knoxious!
✒️ Is Charlie trying to get thrown out of school? With the article in the paper stunt, he must have known how serious the repercussions would be, so maybe already he was considering getting out of school because he felt it wasn't the right path for him
✒️ "You made a liar out of me, Neil" - Mr Perry, I hate you
✒️ Did all of the poets, minus Neil and Knox, really squeeze into Keating's car?!
✒️ Neils little face when he comes out of the curtain, and how quick it falls when he sees his father - he's like a little kid showing a finger painting to a parent who insults it, he just wants his Dad to be proud of him
✒️ Mr Keating's face when Neil drives away after the play - I think he had an idea what was coming
✒️ That zoom in on Neil's face when his father's saying "more of this acting business, you can forget that"- he knew, then, that his dad would never change and what he was going to do
✒️ I want the doorknobs in the Perry house, specifically Neil's
✒️ The first time I watched this movie, I was so on edge when Neil was standing in front of the open window, thinking he was going to jump, and when he didn't I was like 'phew', and then the thing happened and my blood sugar spiked way up
✒️ Mr Perry saying 'my poor son' - i don't know, it rubs me up the wrong way, he has a name, he is not simply an extension of you
✒️ Cameron isn't there when the poets tell Todd what happened to Neil
✒️ The lingering image of Charlie with a tear down his face is so beautiful
✒️ Knox just clinging to Todd in the snow
✒️ The comparison between the deleted scene of Neil and Todd running lines by the lake when it's sunny and Todd running towards the lake screaming Neil's name 💔
✒️ Similarly, the comparison between Todd not wanting to speak at all in the meetings, and then the deleted scene where he reads a poem after Mr Perry takes Neil away
✒️ Charlie not singing during Neil's assembly
✒️ Ave means farewell in literature, and Charlie closing his eyes when it's sang is beautiful
✒️ Charlie carries on smoking when Cameron's coming into the attic meeting - he either knows it's Cameron or doesn't care who tf catches him doing anything bad anymore
✒️ I don't think Cameron ever actually 'believed' in Mr Keating, definitely not to the extent the others did - he never called him captain, for example, except when he realised everyone else in the common room was, and air quotes the word 'captain' in the attic. So, it raises the question why he went along with everyone even so?
✒️ While I do somewhat sympathise with Cameron, that is one of the most satisfying punches in movie history
✒️ I think Todd's parents weren't that different from Neil's, Todd's dad is clearly very authoritarian from the minute or so he's on screen (and the fact that Todd signs the paper) and his Mom says nothing in his defense, but the way Todd mouths 'Mom' breaks my heart
✒️ In what universe does acting = what Neil did? All those theatre kids and their evil, satanic rituals, forcing our kids away from school 🙄 I hate you, Mr Perry and Mr Nolan
✒️ Todd's the last one to stand up when Nolan walks into Keating's classroom
✒️ Mr Nolan complimenting Mr Pritchard's introduction is so ridiculously funny to me considering what Keating made them do to it
✒️ Mr Keating's smile to Todd through the door in the classroom has the same energy as "All my love to you poppet. You're going to be alright."
In conclusion, I adore this film.
Robin Williams, O Captain, My Captain 🫡❤️
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sm-baby · 5 months
Note
HELLOOO I'M BACK ok ok remember how I said in Jax's analysis that the zapping scene could actually have a lot of information into it?? Let me elaborate:
There are two things that mainly caught my attention in that scene:
1 - How the lightning bolts that come out of the collar are yellow
2- How the shock is really quick (literally just a snap)
"Oh that must be just a stylistic choice right? don't look too deep into it-" WRONG!!!
In the Jax's Doodles, when Caine bites down Jax's head, we can see that he started bleeding in black. Why can I affirm that his blood really is black and it's not just because the comic is in grayscale?
For this reason:
During the Teatre Shenanigans, though it was all an act, it's implied that Ragatha does bleed in red, since, you know, the color is there, and because if it was any other color Pomni might have not believed it.
Also, let's be real, Gangle would not mess up something as simple as someone's blood color - her plays need to be >perfect< I love her so much omg
Still using the Theatre Shenanigans doodles as information, but with the addition of the new comic of Pomni taking the shortest stick, we can see through Gangle's ribbons that if there are colors that are portrayed, even when the comics are in black and white, those colors are red and yellow, so if his blood was actually red, it would've been painted as such.
So with that in mind we can pretty much say that his blood is, in fact, black.
As we can see in the part 2 of the neck pieces, his speaking bubbles are also in black and white, and, through an ask made some time ago, it was confirmed that he can only see in grayscale, and that's the reason why Gangle is the one in charge of coloring his animations.
EVERYTHING, literally EVERYTHING about Jax is monochromatic, grayscale, black and white, 50 shades of gr- you got it. He is NOT supposed to be associated with any color AT ALL
And that really highlights how out of place are the yellow bolts that come out of his collar. Jax is not supposed to have any type of color. The shock emitted from his neckpiece does not match with the way his level is supposed to be, doesn't match with his room, his character, his code, but why would that be??
Is there the chance that the chain wasn't his original collar? It does make sense if you look at some of the theories, especially regarding Kinger's role in the bigger picture. In the Imgur image, Kinger does mention to Queenie that he found a code that could free everyone from their collars, but, the main catch here, is that he could NOT disable it after it was done.
Well, we know that he did disabled it, and as a consequence, Queenie abstracted soon after
After it happened, Kinger probably was really desperate to put the collars back on the other AIs, he didn't want his friends to have the same fate his wife had,
But he couldn't disable the code that took them off, so what could he do now??
Simple answer:
He created a new code, so there could be new collars
That ties up with the ask answered with "it's hard to put a chain on someone if they have a scarf on", Jax's chain was probably not part of his design originally, it was not made for him, it was not part of his code in the first place,
Pure speculation, but this might be why Jax's supposedly new collar doesn't follow in every aspect the whole monochromatic idea that his design was meant to have. The yellow lightnings stand out because Kinger probably didn't put a lot of effort into the new collars, he didn't make sure that they matched with the quirks and characteristics already coded into the characters, as he was too desperate to put them back on and just made the code as quickly as he could.
At most he just made the neckpieces blend in with the AIs designs, so they wouldn't stand out. They just match at a superficial level.
(funny part is that Jax probably didn't even notice the yellow coming out of his collar, he can't see colors 😭).
This is why I imagine that his original design never had a chain to begin with, both because of this information, AND, because in Jax's room, we can see him wearing the scarf in the ripped out poster.
Was the scarf supposed to be his original neckpiece? But why would he still wear it after everyone had taken theirs off (as seen in the restarting scene, in the same comic)? To be honest I think he just liked how it looked, he did seem to have a fashion sense back then.
But, by that theory, of the chains not being his actual design, he has also chains on his feet, was his whole design altered?? Why would it be?? I still don't have any clue on why, gotta wait a little for more information.
I like to think that his current design reflects on his character, being a prisoner of both the game and his mind, and quite literally stuck in the past, being unable to move forward.
OK Now for the second part of the analysis
Remember my comment, saying that the shock he received was really quick? That stood out to me because during Ragatha's reset, when she also received the shock to avoid her abstraction, her shock was actually longer than his, being a "ZPPPPPP" instead of a "SNAP". Something I've also noticed is that both times when Jax got shocked, it seemed to be at a less intensity then when Raghata was, because there was a difference in line thickness and size of the lightning bolts shown.
After Jax's restart, in his room, we can see three centipedes, that's the most bugs we've ever seen in the same room until now, since we had only seen a single ladybug in Ragatha's garden, right after her reset.
Ok, so, I did talk a little about how Kinger might be the one responsible for the collars, and I also made an ask this one time to know if he was using the bugs as a way to keep an eye on the others (that was me!!! Hi!!)
If you pay attention to the relationships between the cast, we can see that Ragatha and Kinger are actually pretty close. They trust each other, while Jax seems to have a rocky relationship with everyone.
That might be the reason why there were more bugs than usual in Jax's room, because Kinger doesn't trust him and is aware of his rebellious nature, so he must feel the need to supervise him to a higher extent when compared to others.
Besides that, while Ragatha is really unstable, she doesn't seem to need to restart that frequently, therefore it's possible that only a small shock is able to make her restart. Jax, on the other hand, has already been shown being shocked twice, both with a bigger intensity than seen with Rags.
I believe that if Kinger truly was the one responsible for the collars, he also must have set the potency of the shocks in a way that it was only used the intensity necessary to reset them, so they didn't need to suffer more than needed.
Since Jax does behave in a more erratic manner when compared to the other AIs, the potency of the collar must have been set in a way that it would be able to restart him as quickly as possible, which means it must be in a higher setting,
On the other hand, Raghata probably needs less power for her to reset, because, while unstable, she's not as rebellious as him, so her settings are lower. In the comic used as a reference, however, she is shown to be extremely stressed, so for her to restart it might have been needed for the shock to be at a higher intensity.
Since her collar is not programmed to give such strong shocks, the solution found was for it to last longer, at least in that moment. That can also be the reason why Kinger appeared in the loading screen, because he got worried with the possibility of the collar not being able to stop her from abstraction, so he went to check on her.
That's everything for now!!! It did take lot of work to transcribe the stuff from the theory board to here (it's pretty disorganized ashuhuash) ,but I think I managed to express most of my analysis/theory!!
-carol
CAROL WHEN I CATCH YOU CAROL- DHLJKHKSJGH
I ADORED THIS SO MUCH- HDKJH i want you to know that I was reading it all in Matpat's voice which made it so much cooler "omg guys a Gametheorist made a theory about me hhehehe"
saving this.. SAVING THIS.. CAROL YOU ARE A GIFT= HXCKJSKA definitely gonna read this again.............
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thelovinghost · 10 months
Note
It is sad that I found this account before your main. ANYWAY!
I don't know your rules so funny little thing.
The yandere host club finding out that Y/N wants kids (gn Y/N) like adopting them or having them
Only if you want.
(Yandere if you can but if you don't want to that's fine to!)
Honestly, quite a few of my secondary blogs have more followers and interactions than my main :( I don't know if people know it's me, but I also have like 50+ different blogs Yet again I didn't include Mori, because I don't like him
Reader Gn, but briefly implied FAB
!!CHARACTERS AGED UP!!
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Tamaki Suoh
He has so much love to give
He's wanted a kid the whole time, so he just needed you to come around
He's ecstatic! Practically jumping off the walls
If you have a child together, it would make it harder for you to leave
Even if you were once unhappy with your relationship, you'll fall for him eventually and this just hits the nail
If you're looking into Adoption, he probably already has all the paperwork and the agency
Though, if you want to conceive a child, he's trying any chance he can get [Sex drive goes up 500% Trying to get his dog wet 24/7]
He has a fear that you might end up like his mother, but luckily there's medicine for it now, thanks to his and Kyoya's dad
He's the best dad 100/10. He wants to be there for every moment of his child's life
He'll lose his mind if he misses something
Say he misses his child walking, he'll cry for like a week straight. You better have gotten it on video
Speaking of video, he records everything they do. He wants to save every moment
He gets more emotional when his child goes to school
He wants to hold onto them forever
He wants so many kids
You have to be a voice of reason
If you happened to have another child, he's not going to be mad
Your child can always look at Tamaki for Emotional comfort. If they have a crush though, they'll come to you.
Before you have the child, he imagines what they'll be like
Man has so many daydreams about your happy, average, family life :)
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Kyoya Ootori
Genuinely could give or take a child
He's not the biggest fan of kids, but it'll be a mini version of you both. Or a mini version of just you
He doesn't want to be like his father, so of course he'll be more present in his child's life
He gets a better control of his emotions
Has their whole life planned out
He even has different plans if something goes wrong. Has every possible situation possible and has connected it all together
Kind of obsessed
Tamaki visits a lot just to see their kid
It annoys Kyoya to no end
Honestly, your child is probably just like Kyoya, much to your annoyance
That's all you need is another Kyoya
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Kaoru Hitachiin
Okay... You want a kid?
He's never really thought about it
But, he's open to it... I mean you used to hate him
He'll spend time with you looking into your options
He's the second best dad, only beat by Tamaki
Your child will probably get Kaoru and Hikaru mixed up, much to Kaoru's disappointment
Called Hikaru dad once and Kaoru was mad at about it all day, while Hikaru teased him about it
Speaking of Hikaru, you're kid loves to annoy and bother his uncle. They'll ask Hikaru a million questions and Hikaru tells you to get your kid
^Kaoru is kind of proud
He'll love his child no matter what happens
He loves taking care of his kid. He has a more 'feminine' roll in the relationship, even if you're a stay at home mom
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Hikaru Hitachiin
As he grows up, he gets more mature, though he has his moments
He doesn't know how to be a parent [But who does]
He's the most stressed about it, because he doesn't know what to do
You'll have to calm him down
Maybe this is a good thing?
He'll make sure his kid doesn't mix him up with his brother
But, you might have twins if you can give birth
^ If so, he'll have a deeper connection with them, because he's a twin
Your kid pranks you both a lot
Smashes food in your face, trip you, switch your bodywashes, tricking you
You're the main target for the pranks, because Hikaru is less likely to fall for it. Man invented twin pranks
There's nothing they can do that he hasn't done
He hadn't wanted a child, but he's so glad you both did
He might even want more kids
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Mitsukuni 'Honey' Haninozuka
Having a kid with him would probably be an accident
Was NOT planned
Kinda funny if your kid is taller than Honey
I... Uh... Don't know what else to write... I'm sorry
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Haruhi Fujioka
If you do have a child together, she'll probably carry the child
Though, she is the most open to adoption
She would love to give a child a home
Either way, she'd love being a mom
Granted, she never really thought about children. It was kind of at the back of her mind
She's more mature than you and takes on most of the responsibility
She doesn't mind, she enjoys it and she wants you to be happy
You're more emotionally connected than her. You sympathize with your kid[s] more
If the kid wants something, they'll ask you, because Haruhi will say no
337 notes · View notes
ryaeris · 1 year
Text
Killshot / L.DH
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PAIRING: enemy!donghyuck x fem!reader
WORDCOUNT: 2.7k
SUMMARY: it seems as though you and donghyuck could never get along until the green-eyed monster decided to give the two of you a helping hand.
WARNINGS: donghyuck is an asshole, bathroom sex, counter sex, exhibitionism (kinda), unprotected sex, the pull out method (please don't do this), teasing, praise, confessions, implied established realtionship at the end, and a bit of fluff!
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"last again?"
his voice was like nails to a chalkboard, the smugness in his voice causing your eye to twitch, the hand that was clutching your paper with a big fat 50% on it being crushed under its weight.
you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you roll your eyes with a scowl, but he made it hard to ignore when he used words like 'last,' like there was some kind of hierarchy of test scores. "shut it donghyuck." you gritted out, your hands clenched into fists in an effort to keep them at bay so your pencil wouldn't do any damage.
he just laughed.
oh god, that laugh. that annoying fucking obnoxious, condescending, infuriating laugh. you'd rather take on a million monsters with your bare hands than deal with this asshole. you didn't need to look at him to know that he was smirking, clearly enjoying the dismay written all over your face. he was sadistic like that… at least to you.
he was kind to his classmates and friends, it was just you that he relentlessly teased, that he always had something to say to, and you would be lying if you said you didn't wonder what it was like to be on his sweet side. sadly, the only thing he's ever had to offer you was his not-so-needed sarcasm and occasional academic advice— which you hadn't asked for, by the way.
you hadn't realized that you were glaring holes at the dark red pen ink, the numbers coaxing you to get lost in your head until your friend, yerim, called your name. she knew what was wrong, it was written all over your face, but she still tried to pull you away from the spiraling anger building inside of you. with her arm around your shoulder, she gave it a squeeze, meeting your eyes with her own, which was swimming with concern.
"are you okay?" she questioned softly, but as you turned your head away from her, they guided her to the man that was the cause of your displeasure. "donghyuck again, huh?" she asked again. it wasn't really a question, seeming as though she already had her answer. she always did.
yerim had always stuck by your side, ever since freshman year when you got lost on your way to class. it didn't take a ridiculous amount of time for her to become your other half, as though your brains were telepathically linked; or maybe you knew each other in another life. either way, she always knew how you felt or what you needed, the girl extremely in tune with your body language and aura.
"it's like he thinks that he's better than me just because he knows what he's doing." you gritted out. yerim sighed, nibbling on her lower lip in thought. "you already know that's not true, so i don't know why you allow him to get to you."
you could lie and say why you didn't know why his words affected you the way they did, but it was that gnawing feeling in your gut whenever you'd see him, when you were able to see him smile when he hangs out with his friends, that butterflies in your stomach when you'd hear his laugh. and you hated yourself for it.
"i just—" before you could complete your sentence; another body joined the conversation.
"ah! You did better than me!" jaemin's voice chimed enthusiastically. jaemin was new to your school, and he had somehow managed to worm his way into your duo.
you raised a brow, "you got lower than fifty percent?" he put his test on your desk, and in the right-hand corner there was a thirty-five percent. you gawked at his score. "how'd you manage that?!" you asked incredulously. his smile never faltered, "well… i kind of fell asleep the first thirty minutes of the test." you couldn't help but laugh at his thoughtlessness.
though you were distracted by the boy with a low score, you hadn't seen the way donghyuck was glaring, not at you, but at jaemin.
"i knew i should have sat by you." you said to yourself. he threw a leg over the seat in front of you, his chest pressed up against the plastic headrest. with crossed arms, he looked up at you through his eyelashes.
"where would i be without having you to keep me in line." he teased with a tilt of his head. jaemin had always been flirtatious, it just came naturally to him; in all honesty, he probably wasn't even aware that he was doing it.
"shut up." you said with a smile, pushing him back with a soft shove. the blonde's head lifted, but his eyes never strayed away from you. with another wave of your hand and an expectant look on your face, he turned around, and class resumed.
it was a grueling hour before you were finally free; yerim, jaemin, and you were walking side by side.
"so…" jaemin began, "there's this party that I'm throwing, and i want you to come." your eyebrows furrowed at the invitation. parties aren't really your thing, but it wasn't like you haven't attended one before, plus, it was jaemin, so why not?
"sure," you said with a shrug, "why not?" the grin on his place was pretty much shit-eating. "would you like to go too, yerim?" he asked. she just shook her head, waving her hand back and forth. "no thank you, i'm taking my girlfriend out on a date today!" she said excitedly.
you smiled at the girl as jaemin nodded understandingly. "well, i guess that leaves the two of us, huh? i'll see you tonight then!"
he waved the both of you goodbye, going off somewhere to the left as yerim brought your attention back to her.
"so, any outfit ideas for the party?" you shook your head no, "nah, i figured i'd just go in casual, y'know?" it was almost as if the words that came out of your mouth offended her. "absolutely not!" she exclaimed. "you don't know if there's going to be hot guys there, and i am not going to allow you to look like a hot mess just because you think you have nothing to prove."
you knew you could do nothing but oblige to her demands, groaning out a weak 'fine', internally knowing you had your night cut out for you.
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you almost hated to say it, but you were quite impressed with the outfit she had managed to squeeze you in; a lightweight dress with some heels that you could manage to walk in, your makeup natural but charming.
"you know you look good. admit it, i did a fantastic job." she gushed. you rolled your eyes light-heartedly. "don't you have somewhere to be?" you asked. that seemed to pull her head out of her ass because her eyes widened at the numbers on her phone. "yes, i do, but this isn't over, and you know it. i'll be back home later to hear about how everyone complimented my expertise."
"shut up and go." you groaned, lightly shoving her out of the room as she giggled.
you unsurely looked in the mirror, your body turned to the side as you ran your hands down the front of your dress. you looked nice, and there was no point in backing out now.
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the house was booming with people, almost the whole school was there, and the inside wasn't any better; loud music, the stench of alcohol, weed, and sex permeated the air. it was suffocating really, but you stuck to searching for jaemin amongst the sea of people.
you didn't have to search for long, because a thick hand placed itself on your shoulder.
"i'm glad you could make it." he said against the shell of your ear. you shivered, turning around with a smile on your face. "i told you i would, didn't i?" you teased.
"do you want a drink?" he asked. you nodded, "that would be great, thanks." with that, he left, leaving you to your own devices as you looked around you.
there were cheap decorations on the wall, but since the lights were off, there were different colored lights that decorated the space.
then, your breath caught in your throat.
donghyuck was sitting on the couch, a girl sitting on his lap as she giggled at something he said. he wasn't even that funny, so what was there to laugh about? you didn't know why you felt like this, why your stomach twisted at the sight of them, why there was a bitter taste in your mouth, why the words 'i wish that was me' were making their way up to the forefront of your mind.
"i had to look around but i managed to find a bottle that—"
"dance with me." you suddenly said.
"what?" his brows furrowed.
"i said," you took the red solo cup out of his hand, "dance with me." he gulped, allowing his fingers to loosen so he could put it on the white fold out table, pushing some scattered chips out of the way.
"okay." he agreed dumbly.
dragging him by his wrist, you pulled him into the crowd of people, placing his hands on your waist. you shouldn't be doing this, jaemin was your friend, friends don't get this close to other friends.
with your arms thrown around his neck, you swayed with him to the music, no space between the both of you as you looked over his shoulder.
donghyuck.
there was anger in his eyes, his attention completely snatched away from the girl on his lap as she practically begged for it back. you couldn't help but feel pleased at his anger, finally feeling like you had gotten him back for what he had said to you earlier.
as the song finally came to close, jaemin lowered his chin, his eyes boring into your soul. you knew he wanted to kiss you, but you looked down at his shirt, putting some distance between the two of you.
"that was fun." You said awkwardly. he cleared his throat. "yeah…" he said, "it was." you couldn't look at him, not with the shame bubbling in your gut. "i- um, i have to go to the bathroom." you took off down the hallway and into the nearest restroom.
shutting the door, you balanced yourself on your hands that sat on the sink counter, staring at yourself in the mirror.
what were you thinking acting like some lovesick fool?
what pulled you out of your berating thoughts was someone attempting to open the door.
"shit! it's occupied!" you said loudly. the person didn't say anything, opening the door.
"donghyuck?" you questioned, your brows furrowing in confusion, but also shock. "what the fuck was that?" He bit. now, it was your turn to be angry. "what was what?" shutting the door behind him, he stalked towards you until your back hit the wall.
"you know exactly what i'm talking about." he leaned closer to your face, your breaths intermingling as your chest rose and fell. "did you want to piss me off, huh? was that it? did you want to get a reaction out of me by dancing with him?" his voice got deeper with every accusation, your thighs clenching at the sound of it. you wanted to overthink, but you refused.
"so, what if i did? since I'm always last, you wouldn't dance with girls like me anyways, right?" you prodded, leaning your head to the side as a signal of a challenge.
"who said i wouldn't?"
and with that, he finally closed the distance between the two of you. his hands were fast to land on your hips as did yours, which tangled themselves into his dark brown locks. the kiss was fast and messy, desperate hands holding onto the other as you whimpered. he was unrelenting in his quest to dominate your lips, his tongue brushing against yours in a soft caress.
god, he was such a good kisser.
with a firm grip on your hips, he spun you around, the counter making contact with your lower back. breaking the kiss, your lungs begged for air as you breathed heavily. his large palms cupped the backs of your thighs, lifting you up so that you were now sitting on the marble.
"tell me when to stop." he huffed. "absolutely not." you said, dragging him back into a kiss as he smirked into it.
he hiked up your dress, his fingers scaling up the sides of your legs until they met with the band of your underwear. "lace." he hummed, "nice touch." he spoke against you. "thank yerim for that." he nodded, "will do."
you lifted your hips up so that he could pull them off, the man discarding them haphazardly on the floor.
your hands trailed down his shoulders, down his chest, to the hem of his shirt where you lifted it up. he didn't protest, allowing you to pull the offending item up and over his head, throwing it to the ground as well. "i always knew you looked hot under your clothes." you murmured. looking up at him, you were met with an incredulous look. "what?" you questioned. "i'm only human." he let out what sounded between a scoff and a chuckle.
"whatever."
you finally unlooped his belt, tugging his pants down just enough so you could pull him out of his boxers.
he hissed as you stroked his cock, teasing the head of it, you spread his precum around his tip before finally guiding it towards your entrance.
you buried your head in his neck as he entered you, your nails raked themselves down the expanse of his back, pulling a pained groan from him. thank god for the music, because if it weren't for that, everyone could hear you.
"donghyuck." you moaned as he had begun to subtly move. he was an asshole, but he wasn't a monster, he had allowed you to get used to him before he had begun to thrust.
"fuck." he grunted as his hips met the inside of your thighs. the pleasure was greater than anything you've felt before, even with your last partners. now you finally understood why that girl on his lap wanted his attention so badly.
"so good." you whined, your head falling back. he took advantage of your barren neck, latching his teeth to your pulse point. he left hickeys all along the column of your throat, the nibbling setting your veins on fire.
"'always wanted to do this." he groaned.
you could feel him getting closer and closer to his orgasm, his movements growing quicker and sloppier.
"donghyuck…" you breathed, unable to form coherent words anymore, your entire body shaking with the intensity of it all. he pulled back from your neck, his mouth searching for yours once more, sucking on your bottom lip roughly. your head swam as you tried to keep yourself upright, your hands gripping tightly on his biceps.
"fuck baby.." he whispered as he rested his forehead on yours, his breathing heavy. a hand left the side of your body to begin stimulating your clit, his thumbs moving it in tight circles. your entire body jerked involuntarily, if it weren't for him standing in front of you, you for sure would've flown off the counter.
you couldn't keep yourself silent, your moans mixing with the music playing from outside of the door, and donghyuck wasn't in too hot of a position either.
"you're okay," he cooed softly, the tone almost hypnotic. "you're doing great." as he kept murmuring praises, you realized you had never imagined you would ever be akin to his kind words.
feeling your climax nearing, your legs wrapped themselves tighter around him, your lower half grinding yourself against his pelvis.
with one last push, he quickly pulled out before releasing on your stomach, letting go of you with a gasp and a moan. your whole body shuddered as you caught your breath, panting. you collapsed onto him, and held you close, burying his nose into your hair and kissing your temple lightly.
there were a few beats of silence, both of you taking a moment to wrap around the sudden drastic change in your relationship.
"i suppose this doesn't mean i'm last again?" you asked, your words teasing.
"no," he said with a smile. "definitely not."
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barcaracing · 1 year
Text
lucky charm | mv1
summary: max verstappen has been your childhood best friend since the day he nearly knocked you over with his little go-kart, but some things about the dutch guy are still a mystery to you. like when he asked you to bring his dirty socks to the italian grand prix
pairing: max verstappen x childhoodbsf!reader
tw: cursing because it’s max verstappen. come on
a/n: first fanfic on this baby let's goooo
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It was the weekend of the Italian Grand Prix. Nerves were running high as the drivers prepared for Monza. You had been looking forward to this since the winter break, and it was finally time to pack your things and make your way to the airport. As always, Max had organised paddock passes for you to be his guest, but now that you were actually holding them in your hands, you weren't sure if you really needed to see fast cars go zoom again.
Max and you got into an argument at the beginning of the week and things were still left unresolved as they often were when it came to you two. Looking back, you couldn't even remember what the argument was about. Max and you were hanging out at your place, playing FIFA and talking about his last race when he suddenly sounded more irritated. You were used to this and didn't think much of it, but for some reason, he kept running in circles. 
“You know, if you’d been there,” Max started, “you would’ve seen how shit the race was and I wouldn’t have to tell you about it.”
“I did see it,” you responded. “I texted you afterwards.”
"Yeah," he huffed, not trying to conceal his blunt tone. "I saw the text. Congratuling me on P3."
You furrowed your brows and glanced his way. "Something wrong?"
Max didn't bother to reply. His eyes were glued to the screen, fingers still moving on the controller, but the frown was pretty tell-tale.
"You're not–" You lifted your legs off his lap to face him. "You're not actually mad I wasn't there, are you? I told you months in advance that I couldn't make it to Zandvoort. You were okay with it."
Max continued playing, passing the ball around with no aim or reason. "Whatever," he eventually mumbled. Things got a bit heated after that. At some point, it was really just a question of who could piss off who until the matter ended with him slamming your apartment door and you storming off to slam your bedroom door for good measure. 
As expected, neither of you made the first step to apologise. It was more of a peace offering, which entailed him sending a plain text asking if you wanted something to drink with your pizza and if 8 o'clock worked for you. You replied that you wanted a coke and that you'd be there at 8. That was it, really. You greeted each other with a hug and muttered quietly sorry to each other.
Now, you were sitting in your cab on your way to the airport, still unsure if Max actually wanted you there with him in Monza. Not that it was any different to any other argument you both had, but some pretty nasty things were said, including him telling you that you might as well not come to any of his races anymore if you didn't care.
You were still mulling things over when your phone rang in your hands. It was Max calling. A small smile swept over your lips as you answered it.
"Don't tell me you already crashed."
You heard Max let out a snort. "I love when you believe in me. Where are you?"
"In the cab. Why?"
"Oh." It was silent on the other line. "Can you do me a favour?"
"Yeah, sure.” You passed your phone to your left hand. “What's up?"
You could hear Max shuffle on the other side, closing a door before finally saying, "Can you bring me my lucky socks?"
You blinked. Two cars passed as you stared out the window. "Your what?"
"My socks. The, uh, white ones."
"You're joking." You let out an incredulous laugh. "You better be joking. You have like 50 pairs of white socks."
"But I need that specific pair," Max insisted, and you frowned.
"Verstappen, in all 20 years of knowing you, you have never worn a pair of fucking lucky socks."
"I did, I just never told you."
"Bullshit. Why would you not tell me?"
Max paused hesitantly. "Because I wear them all race weekend."
Your eyes widened. "Friday to...?"
"Friday to Sunday, yeah, pretty much."
"Verstappen." You shuddered. "That's disgusting."
He had the audacity to chuckle. "I'm a disgusting man."
"Gross. Downright vile."
"Proud of it." You could hear the grin in his voice. 
“But you sweat so much,” you said, absolutely bewildered. “It’s abhorrent how much you guys sweat. You’re telling me you just leave those socks on for three days straight?”
“I don’t sleep with my socks on,” Max said defensively. “I’m not a psychopath.”
You pondered that. “Are they…mouldy?”
Max cursed through the phone. “Y/N, those socks just bring me a little luck when I’m racing. I never said they made me immune to fucking fungal diseases.”
“I still think you should get your feet checked.” You grimaced at the mental image of whatever was left of them. “And don’t ever take your socks off when I’m around.”
“Fine,” he huffed, and you could almost see him roll his eyes. "So can you get them for me or not?"
You watched another car pass. "You actually want me to bring you your stinky socks from Monaco to Italy."
"Yes."
You heaved a long-suffering sigh.
A couple hours later, you found yourself about to cross the pit lane, greeting a few engineers who were warming up outside. Your gaze wandered through Max's side of the Red Bull Racing garage, but he wasn't there. You made to turn and ask one of the engineers when your eyes drifted to Horner, who saw you and walked over.
"Y/N." Christian greeted you with a broad smile. "My world champion’s lucky charm has finally arrived."
"They sure have." You wrinkled your nose and held up an old pair of white socks. They had a slight brown, yellowish tint on the bottoms and the smell made you want to gag.
"Jesus." Horner stepped back and made a disgusted face. "Why are you– God, how did they even let you through security with those." He made a show of waving his hand in front of his face.
"Ziplock bag and duct tape," you said earnestly. "I just took them out because the bag was all fogged up and people at the gate thought I was carrying around roadkill."
"You tell me a rat died in those socks and I would believe you. God. Did you lose a bet again or what’s going on?"
Just when you were about to reply, a familiar voice shouted your name from across the pit lane and you excused yourself to go meet Max halfway. 
"You came." Max wore a wide grin on his face. He went in for a hug, but before he could take another step toward you, you shoved the socks into his chest.
"Don't ever ask me to do anything for you ever again." You were glaring at your best friend as he stared down at his chest, startled. He took the socks from your palm and looked at you.
"You brought the socks?"
You stared back at him. "Is that not what you're holding? Give them a good sniff if you don’t believe me. Fumes are probably lethal."
"You brought the socks." It sounded more of a statement this time, and you had to shake yourself out of your stupor when Max started laughing. 
"What's so funny?" You crossed your arms and watched as he couldn't seem to contain himself. Max bent over at the waist, one hand pressed to his stomach. He made to wipe away a tear and nearly choked when he accidentally breathed in the smell. He tucked the reeking socks into his suit, which was folded over at his hips, and stood up straight to face you, laughter dying slowly on his lips.
"Is this the part where you tell me I was pranked and I run you over with your car?" You deadpanned.
"Hmm." He pretended to think about it while taking a step forward. "Probably."
"This isn't funny, Max. We had to turn around the cab, and I had to go through your dirty laundry, probably caught a few diseases too, all because you wanted your stupid lucky socks, and I wanted to show you that I care because of course, I fucking care and–"
"Woah, wait," Max cut you off. "You were on your way to the airport? When I called?"
Annoyed, you nodded. "I was already in the cab."
Max's face lit up. "You were planning on coming?"
You gave him a look. "Well, yeah. I thought you wanted me to."
"I did." He nodded eagerly. "Didn't think you would."
You held each other's gaze for a moment. That was when you could see it all unfold in his eyes. It was a silent conversation, all told through your gazes.
"Look," said Max eventually and reached out to hold your hands in his. You cast a brief glance downward, registering how close you were standing to each other. "It doesn't make a lot of sense because I usually drive fucking great, but whenever you're not there, things always go wrong. Not just engine or tyre failure, but the car feels nervous and overtaking becomes a pain in the ass. Last week was shit because you weren't there."
“P3 is hardly shit,” you replied and Max gave you a pointed look. Your gaze softened and you looked away. "You could've just told me that on Monday."
He rubbed the back of your hands with his thumbs. "I know. I was just being a dick, to be honest." He gave you a shrug before clearing his throat. "And I guess, I was also too much of a dick to tell you that celebrating is just a lot better when you're there too."
You couldn't help the teasing grin that slowly took over your face. "Easy there, Verstappen. People might think you actually care about me."
He let out a scoff and pulled you toward him, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to press a kiss onto the crown of your head. "Who cares what people think," he mumbled into your hair.
You hummed and wrapped your arms around his torso. "We can just tell them that you've ditched the socks because they were burning away your skin and I've become your lucky charm."
"Fucking hell, Y/N." Max laughed. "Don't you get it?" He pulled away and met your gaze with soft eyes. It looked like he was searching for something in them, so you gave the smallest nod and Max took that as his invitation to lean down and press his lips gently to yours. You felt him smile into the kiss and you realised that you were doing the same. 
This was your first kiss together, and you couldn't believe it was happening in the middle of the paddock. But no one appeared to care. It was just you and Max as it always has been. You didn't want to think about what all of this meant. Like the fact that Max Verstappen actually liked you more than just a friend. At that moment, you simply wanted to kiss the guy who felt like home to you and not worry about anything else.
Pulling away, Max pecked your lips once more. You were pretty sure both of you were already grinning like the biggest idiots on the grid, but your smile only widened when he mumbled against your lips, "You've always been my lucky charm."
****
stay hydrated pals
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fengqingtrashgolbin · 3 months
Text
Modern Au where Mu Qing breaks up with Feng Xin because he's being silly and overthinking. He's convinced that Feng Xin is bound to end things between them one day and his pride couldn't possibly handle that. So he texts Feng Xin a simple "We're over. Don't call me anymore."
Feng Xin, naturally, freaks out, because in his mind everything is fine between them. They've been fighting less. His legs aren't covered in bruises from Mu Qing kicking him. Things had been going great. So he calls his (ex??) boyfriend, who doesn't answer.
What the fuck?? Why won't he fucking answer??
He keeps calling. And calling. Sends a shit tone of texts. But he won't answer. And it's been hours.
It's well after midnight now and Feng Xin is laying alone on his bed staring at the ceiling. His mind is racing, trying to think of what he did wrong, because he must've done something, there's no other explanation.
He hears a notification sound from his phone and he rushes to open it because "ok he's talking to me. If he's talking to me I can fix this." But despite his hopes it's just the group chat. It's Xie Lian with *another* cat meme.
And that's when it hits him. How is he going to tell everyone that Mu Qing dumped him one day out of nowhere? He already knows how everyone is going to react and he doesn't want to go though that.
Xie Lian will try to talk to Mu Qing and that will probably lead to a sobbing Xie Lian and a murderous Hua Cheng. And even if he thinks he should be angry at Mu Qing right now, he doesn't deserve that.
Shi Qingxuan will try to take him out clubbing, introduce him to people. Pei Ming will probably lock him in a room with some random person that once told him they find Feng Xin cute, hoping it'll work as a rebound.
They will all mean well but he can't handle them. He'll tell them Mu Qing left. That he got a job in Europe or something. But then they might call him and they'll learn the truth.
Oh he knows. It's stupid, it's over the top but he knows. He'll tell them Mu Qing died.
He'll figure out the cause of death later but for now it's as good a plan as anything.
Later on, he falls asleep, still in his jeans, above the covers and he'll dream about Mu Qing dying. Multiple times.
Mu Qing went down on an air plane
Mu Qing got fried getting suntanned
Mu Qing fell in a cement mixture full of quicksand
Mu Qing met a shark underwater
Mu Qing fell and no one caught him
In all these scenarios Feng Xin sees himself running after Mu Qing and failing to help everytime.
He wakes up with tears in his eyes but he knows now what he'll tell his friends.
AND THE SONG IS
Bonus points because while Feng Xin is talking to Xue Lian about his boyfriend's gruesome and sudden death on the kitchen table of their joint apartment, the "dead" man walks out of his room, grabbs Feng Xin by the collar of his t-shirt and Drags him back in his room. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng go on about their days as they normally would because this is the fourth time this has happened in the last year and they know that the other dumbasses will make up and stay locked in Mu Qings room till the next morning.
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valiantstarlights · 10 months
Text
[Fae!Dream and Vampire!Hob AU]
For @gabessquishytum and wing anon 🖤 I've had this in my notes for a couple of weeks, but now seems to be a good time to share it. 😊
Fun fact, this was inspired by these lines from Baby, It's Cold Outside: "I wish I knew how / (Your eyes are like starlight now) / To break this spell"
Don't ask. The weather was 30°C+ outside when I typed this up. 😂
CW: the tiniest amount of spice, and Dream and Hob being insane about each other as usual.
Fae!Dream runs away from home in the middle of winter and ends up on the wrong side of the forest. He has never been here before. The trails are winding and changes directions when he isn't looking, and the trees are indifferent to his plight, refusing to point him towards the fae side of the forest. 'We are too sleepy,' they say. 'Fuck off.'
Soon, though, he comes upon a castle, and he can see that there's light inside. Snow is already falling pretty hard by then, and Dream is so desperate for warmth and shelter that he knocks on the imposing front doors.
It takes a while for someone to answer, but Dream waits. It's a huge castle. He's about to knock again when the door opens and a handsome vampire peeks his head out. When he sees Dream, shivering and hunched over, lips almost blue, he hurriedly opens the door wide and ushers him in.
Dream enters the castle. Despite everything he has learned in his long, long life.
He knows he has to tread carefully. It's common knowledge that fae and vampires don't get along. But he also knows how important inviting someone inside is to vampires, and he doesn't exactly have a choice. He has two options, and they are: 100 percent chance of freezing to death on one hand, and 50 percent chance of being murdered by a vampire on the other.
Although...now that he's looking, he thinks the vampire looks nice, actually. He's currently talking about getting Dream warmed up in front of a fire and getting him some soup, then apologizing right after because there won't be garlic in the soup.
Dream thinks his voice sounds lovely.
The vampire keeps his promises. Soon, Dream is warm in front of a fireplace, eating creamy vegetable soup. The vampire talks about how he made the soup, and Dream can tell that he's just as nervous as having a fae in his home. But Dream senses no falsehood in his words or in his manners.
Dream is so fucking charmed by him that he (unthinkingly) asks him his name. And then realizes his mistake one second later when the vampire's open features shutter close and his muscles tense.
"My name is Dream," Dream offers. He knows he should not give his name. Not his true one, anyway. And yet he does.
If the vampire's goal is to hurt him, he does not need Dream's true name for that. Dream is still weak from running and escaping his bodyguards. If the vampire wants to hurt him, he'll be too weak to fight back.
"Sure," the vampire says, and...yeah, he's right to be suspicious. 'Dream' isn't exactly one of the top 100 baby names for male fae babies. Lord and Lady Endless knew what they were doing when they named their children. "You can call me Hob."
Hob.
His name doesn't taste like a lie, but Dream knows it's not his real name. It's fine. He likes 'Hob.'
"Thank you for offering me shelter," Dream says. He knows he shouldn't show gratitude or else it will bite him in the ass in the future. He does so anyway. "I was running away from home."
He knows he is under no obligation to speak the truth in its purest form. He has learned how to mislead and twist his words in a way that is still true, but volunteers less information. He does so anyway.
Hob is looking at him intensely, like he is also trying to figure Dream out. "May I ask why?"
And so the whole story falls out of Dream's mouth. It's the first time he has ever talked to anyone about how he is being treated at home, but Hob is respectful and lets him talk. Hob is nice and pours him a glass of water when his voice become hoarse.
Hob is lovely because when Dream starts to break down in the end, telling him all about the entire business with the Burgesses, he takes out a handkerchief and wipes Dream's tears away himself.
"I'm so sorry about everything that has ever happened to you," Hob says in the end, when Dream realizes that he is on Hob's lap, being held. It feels nice. He wants to snuggle up further, but his manners prevent him from doing so. "But I'm glad you've left them for good."
That makes Dream pause, and he shakes his head. "I have not. Technically, I am still under their protection." He looks outside to see heavy snowflakes still drifting down, and an occasional wind gusting through. "I still have to go home."
Hob looks out the window and then back to him incredulously. "In this weather?"
"I have to," Dream insists. "If not..."
"If not?"
Dream looks down at his lap. At Hob's handkerchief that was somehow now in his hands. It's a pretty cream color with the initials R.G. embroidered on the corner. Dream does not think what the initials mean because he doesn't want to pry. Hob's true name is his business alone. But he likes the handkerchief. Perhaps he can keep it as a souvenir of his time at the castle of the handsome vampire. It would be his most prized possession. He will not draw attention to it so Hob will forget to ask him to return it. "If not," Dream says, "I will die before the season turns."
Hob inhales sharply, and then he's clasping Dream's arms. "Is that a fae thing?"
Dream nods miserably. It's how they lost Destruction. And how Dream will be lost, if he doesn't get back. He hopes Death will take care of Jessamy for him.
"Is there no loophole for that?" Hob asks, looking frantic. "There must be something. Like...I don't know, like a transfer of protection?"
Hob must be a very young vampire for him not to know the rules. But Dream knows the rules by heart, and all the loopholes as well, from hundreds of years trying to bend them. And the only way...
"Oh."
"Oh?" Hob echoes. "Is there a way to save you after all?"
There is, but--
He could not possibly--
"I have to leave," Dream announces, and regretfully gets off of Hob's lap and starts walking away.
"What? Why?" Hob asks, standing up himself and following him. "Do you have to go on a quest for some item or something? Stay the night. There's literally a blizzard--"
"I cannot!" Dream shouts.
Hob, shocked by Dream's outburst, holds his hands up peaceably. "Alright," he says gently. "May I ask why?"
Dream bites his lip and says nothing.
"Tell me," Hob begs. "Please. I want to help."
Dream shakes his head. Nobody wants to help. Randall had tried to trap him against his will. Alexander was too afraid of his father and brother to help Dream escape and had only pointed him deeper into their house. Dream almost didn't make it.
Hob exhales. Not out of impatience, but out of a decision reached. "Look," he says, hands still open in a gesture of peace. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I really do want to help you. I know a thing or two about being trapped in a situation I do not want to be in, and I wouldn't want anyone else to experience that. So...I would like you to know my name."
Dream gapes at him. A vampire willingly giving his own true name to a fae? It's practically unheard of. It's a trick. It's--
Hob takes a deep breath and says, "My name is Robert Gadling."
'R.G.' The handkerchief is his. Dream's fingers tingle at this new information.
There is a change that happens, when someone tells a fae their true name voluntarily, knowing exactly what they're getting into. It's a different kind of change than when their name is tricked out from them.
If their name is tricked out of them, a thin string, only visible to the fae, connects the being to the fae they gave their name to, as a sign of possession.
But when someone tells a fae their true name the way Hob--Robert Gadling, just did, they will look more real to the fae. More tangible.
And a more tangible Robert Gadling, a kind and handsome vampire who would open his doors to a fae, feed them, keep them warm, and want to help them save their life? All the while smelling of nothing but sincerity?
"Tell me," Hob, Robert, says again. "I want to help you."
Dream suddenly hungers for him. And his sudden yearning to make Hob his is not conducive to the conversation. "You--"
"Please," he says. "Unless there's something preventing you to? More of your fae rules?" He looks contemplatively at the space between them. "Do I have to kneel?"
No. Yes. Lie and make him kneel.
"If I stay," Dream says faintly, the words tumbling out of his mouth without his conscious consent, "my parents' protection will slowly pass to my current host."
Hob looks alarmed at that, probably wondering how many hours it has been since Dream has arrived. "How slowly?"
"A week at most."
The answer, of course, is much more complicated than that. In the case of the Burgesses, Dream still has his parents' protection at the end of Day 5, when he finally escaped. In Unity Kincaid's case, she was so in love with Desire that it only took a day for her parents' protection to fade.
But with the way things are going between him and Hob, and with how fast Dream is prone to falling in love, his parents' protection will most likely fade after three days. At most.
"So stay," Hob says, as if it were that simple. He is still so young. He doesn't know what he is offering. "If you haven't noticed yet, the castle is entirely empty, aside from the castle's spirit itself. It takes care of itself and was kind enough to open its doors for me when I rose from the dead. And if it can offer me, a no-good vampire who used to be a highwayman, a home, then who am I to not offer you my protection as well?"
'Highwayman' is a term that cannot be more than 300 years old. Dream is robbing the cradle.
"I am saying," Dream says slowly, "that if you are to offer me your protection, once my parents' protection has faded, you would be considered my husband. The fae will consider us married."
Hob blinks. "Oh."
"Yes, 'oh,'" Dream cannot help but say mockingly. "That is why I must leave."
But Hob just gestures to the windows helplessly, begging him to see sense at the sight of the howling winds that are thankfully muffled by the thick castle walls. "In this weather?"
"I must."
"A night."
"What?"
"Stay for the night," Hob begs. "The weather might be better tomorrow. And if so, I will give you my thickest coat and help you get back to fae land myself. If...if you are afraid of me, I will stay here in the study, and you may choose any room you'd like to stay in for the night."
Dream stares at him, and ignores the way his body is pleasantly tingling all over, but especially between his legs.
Faes are not good. They are greedy creatures who will take the entire dish when presented with a bite.
And in the face of Robert Gadling's kindness and consideration...
Dream walks up to Hob and grabs him by the collar of his dressing gown. If Hob is willing to give him a coat, then Dream will steal all his clothes for himself as well. If Hob is willing to offer him his protection, then Dream will cast his own on him and name him husband without bothering to wait for his parents' protection to fade. If Hob has shown him kindness for an hour, Dream will want him for the rest of their life.
"Kiss me," he says. Demands. Begs. He doesn't know anymore. All he knows is that if Hob does not kiss him, he will cry.
Hob looks baffled. "What...will that accomplish, exactly? If I may ask?"
Dream groans in frustration and stamps his feet. "I will be kissed," he says. "I will know what you taste like, and you will know mine. Our lips will be thoroughly acquainted and we will feel our tongues push wetly against each other. Is that not enough of an accomplishment for you?"
"Sounds like you want more than just a kiss, your highness," Hob says, but his gaze and his voice are lower now, which is exactly what Dream wants.
"I am not a prince," Dream tells him honestly. Always with honesty. "But I do want more than just a kiss from you. With the generosity you have shown me, with you telling me your name, if you do not kiss me, I will simply waste away and perish."
"Well, we can't have that," Hob says. "Not after I just saved you from freezing to death."
"No, we cannot," Dream agrees. "So kiss me, Robert Gadling." His true name on Dream's tongue tastes like sunlight. "Kiss me and protect me and make me yours right now."
Hob's eyes are dancing as he brushes a lock of hair away from Dream's face and tucks it behind his ear. "You're a greedy little fae, aren't you?"
"And you are still not kissing me, you stubborn vampire."
"I can't believe this is how my evening turned out," Hob chuckles, and touches their foreheads together. "I must have gone insane the moment I saw you. I would normally offer to court someone first before the topic of marriage can even be considered."
Dream pecks Hob's dimpled chin, impatient. He has a slight stubble that would feel wonderful against Dream's thighs. "I am not human. Or another vampire. I am a fae. And if you do not kiss me right now, I will go out in that snowstorm and--"
"Alright, you sweet impatient thing," Hob says, "No need for such threats." And finally dips his head down to touch their lips chastely.
Dream would have none of that, however, and surges upwards, intent on devouring him. Their sharp canines clack against each other, but it does not deter them.
"Are we insane?" Hob asks when Dream has to take a breath. It's so unfair that Dream has to breathe when Hob does not. "To do this right after we just met? Tell me truly."
"Yes," Dream answers honestly. "I do not know of anyone who consummated their coming together as one on the very day they met."
"Consummating, hm?" Hob's thumb presses against his hipbone when he pulls Dream closer to him. "We can do that."
"Yes," Dream agrees. "Right now. Please. Everything."
And Hob does just that.
--
His parents' protection fades even before Hob could fuck him, but he's too preoccupied by the feeling of Hob's stubble on his thighs to notice.
--
In the morning, Hob presents him with the most beautiful obsidian ring he has ever seen, and Dream immediately says yes before Hob could even ask the question.
--
"For the record," Hob says one night after they finished fucking in the library, "I was fully intending on lending you all my thick coats that first night. You looked so cold I was hesitant to even take off your clothes."
Dream snuggles up to him and drapes one leg over Hob's deliciously hairy thighs. "That would not have worked," he says, certain. "I would have simply taken off all my clothes and accepted nothing from you except your most translucent nightgowns to cover my nakedness."
"You will seduce a vampire? Didn't you tell me that our kind do not get along?"
Dream bites him gently on the shoulder with his smaller fangs.
"I would not seduce a vampire," he says haughtily. "I have met some before, and found none of them pleasing. It is you I would seduce. The man I have decided would be mine forever as my husband."
Hob kisses his forehead, and Dream could feel the foolish smile on his lips. "Who is a vampire."
"Shush, Robert Gadling," he says, unable to stop himself from smiling as well.
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