#please respond to them and then get the document back and they haven’t responded to any of them

[morganbritton132]

Every email I sent at work today is sent with the underlying message: please do your jobbbbbbb, I’m sick of working on this and you’re the only person with the answerrrrrs

Except for one email where the underlying message was: I DONT KNNNNNNOW. I DONT KNOW ANYTHING AND I NEVER HAVE

[butchizuku]

ᥫ᭡; You Could Be Mine Tonight; Interlude Il

— Chigiri Hyōma

ᨳ Synop. The city of romance proves to be an apt epitaph as the object of your latest fantasies comes crawling back to you, apology in tow.

໋𓈒 Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, chigiri puts the go in egoist, author self insert, selfship lore heavy, reader is italian-american living in italy, set in verona, mild flirting, mostly lore dump; run time. 3k

(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) Director's Note. hihi loves, cheeky and shameless second installation to my Chigiri selfship lore :3

Your mind wanders to the man you met too often. You haven’t yet allowed yourself to google the starting line up of Manshine City Football Club, assuming he was telling the truth. You think he was. The intensity behind his eyes seemed genuine. Your skin broke out in goosebumps when your mind wandered too far, your face warming. You couldn’t dare let yourself fantasize. Too busy with teaching, too busy finding a new place to rent once your lease was up, too busy trying to keep yourself alive. 

A boy to toy around with in your mind was the last thing on your list of priorities, no matter how good it might’ve felt in the moment. He was a jerk, unkind to you for no good reason. At the grand age of twenty four, you didn't need to pin all your heart's desires on someone who’d hurt you in the end just because he was a pretty boy with a pleasing smile. This Chigiri, clearly wasn’t around here if he was playing for an English soccer team. Even if he was everything you were looking for, you weren’t sure you should be chasing after someone whose heart resides a million miles away. It never worked out in the past, you were always left gluing pieces of yourself back together, hoping they wouldn’t chip off and break again.

So, you threw yourself into working. You were your students everything, a bit of a God. Each day ended with you coming home with a handful of drawings and flowers plucked from the houses around the school, the least you could do was spend a little bit more time into your lessons. It kept your mind from wondering, being so devoted to your students. It also kept you from pouting about your failing novel. You couldn’t cry if you no longer had enough time to stare at your unchanging document.

The school bell rang as the clock struck 2:30pm, pulling you way from your thoughts.

“Ciao amori miei!” You called after them, watching as one by one, they filed out of your classroom. Their backpacks were nearly double the size of they were, filled to the brim with doodles and papers for parents that would never see the light of day again. A few round the corner of your desk to wrap their arms around your hips to give you a quick hug on their way out, their sticky hands pressing into the hem of your shirt without a care in the world.

Along with the pitter patter of their sneakers against the linoleum comes a chorus of “goodbye miss”. It only took them the majority of the school year for them to get used to responding to you in English, but you were proud of them. 

Grabbing your laptop from your desk, you toss it into your worn messenger bag. The weight of it against your hip feels heavier than usual. You chalk it up to your anxieties getting the better of you, some sort of psychological manifestation morphing from their typical nightmares to waking horrors that left your heart pounding for no good reason. Scooping up your half wilted bouquet of dandelions you follow after the trail of excited elementary school students, leaving the building as quickly as you can. A mountain of worksheets in dire need of grading fill the bottom of your bag, dealing with them when you had a glass of red wine in your hand and some trashy y2k pop music made spending your evenings working slightly more bearable.

Your coworkers offer you tight smiles as you pass them in the halls. Their obvious dislike of you is still palpable months later even though you decided to shirk your fun, colourful clothing in favour of aligning with what they wore. Offering them a toothy grin just seemed to make their annoyance double but you did it anyway, faking it until you at least made it through the front doors. Some parents and children milled about, chit-chatting excitedly. Their smiles were genuine when they caught you watching, all warm and gooey, sometimes even a bit gummy when the little ones who were missing their two front teeth noticed you. 

“Excuse me, miss.” A voice behind you called, their tone vaguely familiar with a few clipped vowels that should have roused your memories but it didn’t, so you turned around to come face to face with the book store jerk, Chigiri Hyōma of the Manshine City Football Club.

Your jaw slacked, allowing your mouth to fall open in shock. The small wilted bouquet of weeds that one of your students plucked for you during recess fell from your hands as you stared, half in disbelief, and half in discomfort. Chigiri knelt down to pick them up, resting on one knee as he offered the dandelions back to you. The eyes of parents and students alike burned through you as they watched the scene before them.

“Did you need something, sir?” You questioned trying not to grit your teeth at the absurdity of it all.

He nodded his head, a few silky strands of his hair falling into his face as he did so, “Yes, if you don’t mind,” he murmurs before reaching into his bag, “This is for you.”

With the wilted dandelions, Chigiri brandishes a copy of Amorosa Visione, the very same book you had been holding on to when you bumped into him. You didn’t end up taking it home with you. Something about the day just took away any excitement you may have had to read it. The embossed, rosy cover looks better than it did that day. Though, you were unsure if your eagerness to take the book from his hands was from the book itself or if you just wanted to spare yourself any further embarrassment. 

“Can you … Can you please stand up,” you all but squealed, your hands flying to his elbows to help him stand before you’re finished speaking, “Lets go talk inside.”

The rush of blood filling your ear drums drowns out the whispers that break out across the growing crowd as you lead Chigiri into your classroom. Your wedged espadrilles click against the slick linoleum with each step. The hem of your bright yellow gingham sundress swishes around you. The longer you focus on the sound of your footsteps and the feel of fabric on  your bare skin, the less you focus on the absurdity of it all. He is entirely out of place amongst the tiny chairs and brightly coloured rainbow garland you hung up around the room. Standing awkwardly as he waits for you to speak. The only place he could sit is your desk but you’ve leant against the edge to put as much space between you and him.

A million questions fly through your head, too many for you to sort through, “What are you doing here, how did you find me?” You settle on asking, biting your bottom lip.

“The man at the bookstore told me this is where you work.”

Right. Of course he did. Signor Fiorentino liked to meddle, thought he knew best for everyone. Like any other old Italian man did. It was just part of their charm even if it did drive you half mad most days.

“Okay, why?” 

“What do you mean, why?” Chigiri questions, his tone copying yours, “I wanted to apologize for my behaviour.”

“You really didn’t need to, I get it.” You can’t help by nervously wring your hands, your face hot. Uncomfortably so. With your hair pinned away from your face and neck, you can’t hide your flushed skin from him. He drinks the sight up, his inquisitive magenta eyes peering into every inch of your expression, greedily drinking it up.

“No, I did,” he insists, trying to put the book in your hands.

“No, I get it,” you stutter, your voice pitching up an octave, “I’d be untrusting too if I got as much unsolicited attention as you did.” Tucking your hands into the pocket of your beige linen pants, you offer him a sympathetic look. Nerves nip at your skin, making you shiver.

Shaking his head, he takes a step towards you, “Still, I was rude,” his slender, calloused fingers wrap around your wrist as he forces the book into your outstretched palm, “I apologise for that, I was stressed and I took it out on you.”

The whiplash makes your head spin, nauseatingly fast. His touch is tender and the look in his surprisingly sincere, nothing like the stone cold visage you were first met with that day and certainly unlike the focused red panther you saw in the soccer clips. There was no ounce of malice, no sharp words carefully balanced on his tongue. It made your heart clench, the rush of blood slightly dizzying. All the carefully curated fantasises you swore you wouldn’t have, rose to the surface. Somehow, the real thing was better. His skin was soft and warm against yours and he didn’t pull away from you when you stood still in shock.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” this being the operative word, you weren’t sure how to even begin surmising the last fifteen minutes of your life, “People have bad days, I don’t take every jerk personally.”

Chigiri seems to cringe, his entire face scrunching up in dissatisfaction, “I did, you didn’t buy this book because of me,” he murmurs, his brows pressed together.

You didn’t buy it because the bleak reality of life got in the way of your daydreams. It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the scathing email you received five minutes after you bumped into him. It all seemed like one big sign from the cosmos that you should keep saving your euros instead of spending it all on knick-knacks and novels. The delicately illustrated cover stares back at you, guilt clawing at your belly. 

“It wasn’t because of you.”

Your words sound as flimsy as you feel, like a thin piece of cardboard flopping around in the wind. Keeping your gaze pinned on the book you try to shirk away from the intensity radiating off his eyes. It's difficult, Chigiri seems well versed in using just his eyes to convey a million different words. You almost want to meet his gaze. But you can’t seem to force yourself to.

“Okay?” You murmur, “So there's no need for you to feel guilty or…”

Or, show up at strangers' places of work just to apologise. That would be insane, illogical even, but you were sure Chigiri realized that without you having to make him feel worse. He bounced awkwardly on the balls of his feet, the rubber of his sole squeaking loudly against the linoleum. 

“Or come all this way, I’m sure you’re very busy.”

Chigiri shrugs his shoulders, “We’re just training for an upcoming charity tournament being held in the city,” he explains, “I don’t need to train.”

You nodded your head slightly, too shy to ask why he thought that but you’re not left wondering that long.

“I’m good, better than the teams we’re slated to play against.”

He said that and yet Manshine City had been on a losing streak, not by a wide margin but still, enough that when you googled the team there was talk. Some revolved around some man named Jinpachi Ego, the game maker of this little affair in the soccer world; others questioned the talent of those who made it out of the Bluelock program. Plucked from their high schools to spend the rest of their adolescence putting blood sweat and tears into a sport they fell in love with before they knew what love even means. They gave up everything for soccer– no high school diploma, no summer breaks, no college– they lived and breathed soccer with no plans for anything else. It made your stomach churn uncomfortably when you thought about it too long.

“Your teammates aren’t up to par then?” You ask, tilting your head slightly. There’s humour to your tone, maybe it's teasing, you’re unsure.

“Yeah,” Chigiri says, deadly serious with his nose scrunched up in distaste, “Nagi is distracted and Reo follows him around like a lost puppy, it’s gross.”

You can’t help but laugh, it makes Chigiri smile. He spends a moment examining your features, looking at you as if you were a puzzle he had to solve. You shuffle from one foot to the other uncomfortably. There’s a part of you that wants to know what he’s thinking, if he thinks you’re as intriguing as you think he is. You must be, why come all this way to find you if he didn’t feel something for you.

“That sounds frustrating,” you say, you’re being truthful, it does.

Chigiri nods, standing silent for a moment.

“Are you free this Friday?”

“Uh, yes I am, why do you ask?” Maybe he had tickets to his game he wanted to give you, further sweeten his apology.

He nods his head a little again, “Good,” he murmurs, “I’m going to take you out for dinner.”

“Huh?” You managed to get out between your sputtered cough and confused laughter.

Chigiri stares at you, cool and composed. He’s deadly serious. There’s no mirth, not even the slightest bit of jest lingering within his magenta eyes. The sureness that oozes off of him makes goosebumps break out on your skin. Casting a glance to your feet, you nervously shake your leg.

“We’re going on a date this Friday.” He says.

“Do I get a say in this?”

Chigiri steps towards you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Pressing one hand to the lip of the desk behind you so he’s all but flush against you. You have no choice but to look him right in the eye. He stands only an inch or two taller than you but with him draped over your body, the two of you are eye to eye. 

Your heart leaps into your throat, racing a mile a minute. He smells of vanilla and sandalwood, much nicer than you assumed athletes to smell. Your cheeks flush brightly, if he takes notice, he makes no show of it other than the small curl of his lips. A ragged breath fills your chest as you stare at him.

Was this his way of saying no, you didn’t have a say  in whether or not he took you out?

Intimidation.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t make any threats. Chigiri just stared at you, long and hard. Whatever training he  had kept his poker face iron clad. You couldn’t begin to decipher any part of him. But you, you wore everything on your sleeve. Your heart, each delicate emotion that washed over you, it was all right there splayed out for him to flip through, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“You do,” Chigiri says after a beat, “I would never force you to go out with me.”

“Okay…” Apprehension laces your tone.

He tilts his head, “But, you’re not going to say no.”

“Why is that?” You challenge, a certain fire being lit within you.

“Just a hunch,” He says with a slight shrug.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have quite the ego on you?” 

“In my line of work, that’s a good thing,” he says with a smirk. You want to kiss it off his lips. A thought so startling you weren’t sure it was yours for a second but it was. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d wanted to do that very thing since the moment you laid eyes on him.

You give him a noncommittal sound of agreement, “I’m sure it is.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment. If you pushed, he’d pull. There was something about that you liked. Maybe it was the challenge he posed, so full of himself to the point where you wanted to prove him wrong or, maybe it was the fact that you spent the better part of these last few weeks thinking of him. You couldn’t decide. It may well have been both. But, you were saying yes.

Probably against your better judgement.

Definitely against your better judgement.

But, you made a promise to yourself not too long ago— no more playing it safe. That’s why you packed up your entire life to chase a pipe dream.

Even if the date turned sour, he turned out to be a total jerk. He’d be gone as soon as his game passed and you’d never have to see him again.

“Okay, Friday,” you say with a sense of finality, “Meet me in the Piazza dei Signori.”

He nods his head. Slipping out from between the desk and his body, you turn towards the door, your arms filled with your things. The golden glow of the afternoon pours in from the windows, casting a sort of halo around Chigiri. You keep your eyes trained on him for a moment, savouring the sight.

“I hope you know, I’m not easily impressed.”

Chigiri’s brows shoot up, “Oh?”

Leaning against your desk, he crosses his arms over his chest. That look in his eyes is back, the one that seems like he’s trying to examine you. Placing the pieces of you together as if you were some sort of puzzle or riddle to be solved. In his eyes you might have been. An enigma, esoteric in nature, something he could sink his teeth in and feel satisfied when he finally figured you out. A game to be played and won, his favourite. There was never a game he’d ever lose.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Your shoulders shrug on their own accord, “You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

“I’ll see you Friday,” he says, following you out of the classroom.

“Friday.”

With one final glance tossed over your shoulder, you step through the threshold of your classroom without looking back. 

© All content belongs to butchizuku. You are not allowed to modify, translate, redistribute, or plagiarize in anyway. Do not recommend outside of tumblr (tiktok, wattpad, twitter etc).

[historiavn]

SPILLING THE TEA ON ME AND MY HABITS AS A ROLEPLAY PARTNER (except the tea is an explanation and NOT an excuse because that would suck)

MY SILENCE IS NOT HATRED, AND I CAN BE SILENT FOR A VARIETY OF REASONS.

As I explained in my rules document, I am currently in year five of six of university. This means that one of those reasons is university-related, in the sense that I might be busy with my uni courseload or extracurriculars.

I also might only have the energy or muse to respond to some threads / messages and not to others. This is the type of thing that leads to me frequently responding to threads / messages from months ago, often to the great bafflement of my writing partners.

IF I FOLLOW YOU, I WANT TO INTERACT AT SOME POINT.

Our writing styles might mesh well together, or we might share fandoms (even if I don’t have A Character on my roster for that fandom, I can still create verses for my muses in that fandom and / or I want to fangirl about said fandom with you)

Sometimes, it just takes me a hot minute to figure out How to have our muses interact, even if I Know I want to interact with you. This “hot minute” in question might be a few days, a few weeks, a whole entire month, or maybe in the most extreme cases, a year.

If you follow me first, pretty please with sugar on top fill out my interest tracker so that I know who you want to write with?

MY MUSE IS INCREDIBLY SPORADIC AND ANNOYINGLY SPONTANEOUS.

Ah, the classic dilemma of AuADHD, amirite?

With the impulsive nature of my fixations, a thread I have muse for one week might not have that same level of muse a couple weeks later. I used to just drop these threads, but I’m working on getting better about actually following through on coming back to threads when I do get muse for them. If you’ve noticed me responding to threads from two, three, or even four months ago, that’s why that’s happening.

The only time I’ll drop a thread or dynamic is when I get soft / hard blocked by whoever I’m writing with or the other person tells me that they want to drop a thread.

When in doubt, assume that I haven’t dropped a thread unless I tell you explicitly that I’m dropping a thread.

Dropped threads don’t mean dropped dynamics.

I have no specific schedule; I tend to reply to whatever threads / messages / memes I have muse for in that immediate moment first. But please do not assume that my silence means a lack of interest!

I’M QUITE SHY AND ABSOLUTELY AWFUL AT COMMUNICATING WITH RP PARTNERS.

I’m trying to get better at it and work on conquering my fear of confrontation and social anxiety in the process, but please bear with me because it is an Ongoing Effort.

ngl this hobby has actually done wonders for helping me handle my social anxiety but there’s still a LONG way to go. if I follow you first and I’m taking forfuckingEVERRR to reach out, just know I’m gathering courage to do so.

[rottingfern]

WIP WEDNESDAY WRITING CHALLENGE

It’s WIP Wednesday: time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants. The goal is to encourage each other to break down barriers that keep us from creating.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so all players can find you in the notes), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; NOT titles, document names.

Post a snippet from one of them. The snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any in the last 7  days, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. (Make sure your asks are open!) You must then write 3 sentences in that file  and respond to the ask with the three sentences you wrote.

FINALLY, please send asks to 3 or more people who have reblogged this post! The game only works if everyone is encouraging everyone -  let’s strengthen our community!

That’s it! I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Writing Challenge snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

If you'd like to be tagged next week, let me know!

I'll start, under the cut:

MY WIPS: - rainy ghost - 7hrs 45mins - threesome fic - universe and us in the night - brutus in a birdcage

--------------------------------------------

To answer your question, he continues, I have dark hair, light eyes, sporting a healthy, olive tan; devastatingly handsome, I’m afraid. 

Noah balks. “...Dude, why do you sound like a personals ad?”

His laugh is a tinny rumble, like the crushing of a can. Y’all still have those? My. Well, I suppose we’re quite similar, you and I: you, a destitute lush out on the street and me, well… I am the way I am; two strange queens, the pair of us make. 

Noah can’t help the flush he knows rises to his cheeks. “Are you coming onto - Wait. What exactly are you?” 

Well, I’m a ghost, darling, Nicholas’s disembodied voice responds, like it’s some glaringly obvious conclusion. I’m dead.

from rainy ghost

--------------------------------------------

Taglist: @throughwoodsanddirt @cowpokeomens @deathblacksmoke

[goleb]

Hey there! I don’t know if you remember me at all, and sorry if this comes across as rather strange, but I was / am lore-anon from a while back. I don’t think I ever really thanked you properly for giving us all such deep insight into the making and Mind of The Man Himself, but I wanted to congratulate you on the assignment!

The more people to witness other opinions about dhmis that isn’t just PopularMatPatTheory the better. Especially coming from a viewpoint where Roy isn’t automatically labeled evil. Honestly, virtual high five my guy. Hope it wasn’t too hard of a project to work on, I would be absolutely thrilled to see into it one day!

I’m sorry for such a long break away, for a while seeing Roy content made me very…what’s the word, uneasy? Seeing all the love and pretty fan art for Lesley while Roy gets constantly dunked on made my blood boil, and seeing the unfortunate artwork of Roy with a woman made me sick to the stomach.

I can’t believe that I’m this easy to trigger into an anxiety fit, but tumblr was NOT the place for me to be. Glad it’s calmed down quite a bit, but still….I shudder to think what they’re going to do in the newer seasons, that woman is NOT yellow’s mother, I don’t even care, I’m yelling it from roof tops.

Ouch, this is a bit of a novel, so I apologise in advance, but thank you again for keeping His spirit alive in such a dead, rather cruel fandom.

P.s that Roy cap is absolutely MINT. Becky spoiled us for once. Anyway, I’m off, don’t feel obligated to reply if this is all too much, just wanted to pop by and say, well. Thanks. I mean it. :)

[This message is for Roylore anon and for Roylore anon only. Please do NOT read this if you are not Roylore anon. Seriously.]

Anon, anon, anon… you greatly underestimate your importance in my online life and that makes me sad. Of course I remember you. How could I forget? I literally just woke up, saw an ask notif on my phone, “I don’t know if you remember me at all” - and hoped in my heart of hearts that it’s you. Anon, I missed you. 

And I needed closure, at least, for why you disappeared, that you’re okay, you know? Too many times have people I know online just… logged off. And I’ve never seen them again. And I just hope that it was a choice, that they, you, all of you, are alright out there somewhere, living life. I’m so glad to hear that you are. 

I’ve had a shit week and all of it piling up has made me sick and I’m so tired, so I’m sorry if my response is overly emotional and all over the place but anon, you don’t understand. But for real.

You are THE reason as much of my work was published as there was. You know how I am, I like to keep to myself. I try not to speak publicly anymore unless prompted to because there’s little use screaming into the void and it's so disappointing sometimes to be faced with nothing but silence. But you, you’re a light in that void. So many times have I felt like I could just disappear, only really keep in touch with my friends because who else would even notice my absence, but then I think to myself, the hell are you saying?! To just abandon my mission, let the Roy haters win? What if Roylore anon comes back, what would they think! What, am I fucking stupid? Oh, absolutely not, not a chance. 😂 Anon, I thank YOU.

Anon, do I remember you…

(I’m so sorry that I still haven’t responded to a couple of them… I work on them in my off-time, straight up have a 20-page long document just for writing down my answers whenever I can. I’m actually writing this response in it, haha.)

Hah, thank you kindly. I only know as much about Roy as he lets me - fortunately for me, he lets me in on a lot of fun little details, haha. Well, that and whatever insight his therapist lets slip… Glen is not very good at that whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing. And thank you! 

That whole paper was a real royal pain (ha!) to complete, with the deadlines and the stress and the rules of academic writing making it difficult (I mean, in creative writing I could improvise you a 50-70 pager EASY in that half a year span. Academic writing, though, that requires so much effort, and you write and you write and at the end of day you find you have written less than a page, and then you have to find sources that back up your statements and… guh.) and the required page count being twice as high as the last largest academic project I worked on, I ended up pulling so many allnighters just to finish it that my brain stopped working. I just knew I had to keep writing. Pretty sure it worsened my, or what I’m pretty sure is, some form of very mild asthma (what’s it called, intermittent?), cause I’ve been wheezing ever since. Just two guys with breathing issues sitting in their bedroom cause they’re gay-married. Can lack of sleep do that? Iunno. But I’ve not been sleeping much since then. Sorry, that’s why I’m so tired, physically at least. Emotionally, that’s a whole nother can of worms, but it does not make sleeping any easier. But, you know what, it’s finished! I don’t have to write any academic papers ever again unless I want to! Maybe someday I’ll rewrite it, make it better. Truth be told, as proud as I am for finishing it, I’m also a little embarrassed that it’s not the best it could be. It was uh, it was about philosophy, the meaning of interpersonal relationships in an otherwise meaningless universe, bit of a comparison piece between DHMIS and Waiting for Godot, that kind of stuff. HIGH FIVE THOUGH!

Lord, I know! I mean, throwback to that one youtube comment argument I had where people kept telling me, you know, the guy who made overanalysing everything in the context of DHMIS similarity potential and loving Roy in every way his whole personality, to watch that theory video to “really understand DHMIS”. 🤦‍♂️ Cheers, I won’t. That’s what I watched DHMIS for in the first place. And I know, I know, I know, I know! WHAT has Roy ever done to deserve that kind of slander? Evil?! Throughout the entirety of DHMIS Roy literally just stood there. Even in 6 he didn’t do anything. “He tortured the trio” he did no such thing. I have a screenshot of every single appearance Roy had in the show. He literally just ominously existed, and what a wonderful existence it was. Or claiming Roy’s some sorta raging alcoholic because he… dared to have half a glass of wine with him at the pub, which he didn’t even drink. God, that just shows how classy he is, come on! Wine's good, who can blame him! Hell, I was literally paid with wine for a translation job I did once instead of money, that doesn't mean anything. Meanwhile at that exact same time Red Guy had a single pint of beer, climbed the stage naked and started singing and no one’s going after him for that. Nonsense, it’s all nonsense, anon. And don’t even get me started on neo-DHMIS. Need I point out all the fucked up shit the trio did in that show. Yellow Guy bashed Coffin’s face in (and that’s after Duck Guy was already driving him mad with his behaviour). Duck Guy killed Warren. Red Guy killed that old train guy, y’know, before the episode abruptly ended and that was the end of the series. It’s still really weird to me that they only made 4 and a half episodes for this series. Like that was weird, right? Why would they do this. Ah, but you know all that already.

It’s also still really… funny… to me that they basically meta-recreated the plot of the Management, y’know? An intruder takes over the show and keeps Roy out of his rightful position as The Guy in Charge with what may or may not be a pinch of brainwashing. But you can’t replace Roy. He’s what MAKES the show. He's mister DHMIS himself! Come on!

Oh, anon, I’m so sorry. You seem to have contracted the same sort of malaise that has been plaguing me for all these years. Yeah, yeah, I understand you completely. It’s… awful, it really is. The only reason I kept going is because I’m doing it for Roy. Ugh, yeah, the misfortune of seeing certain things is partially why my week’s been so shit, I’ve been having terrible luck with exactly that. And I'm literally actively trying to avoid it! I know, I know, I know. Both as Roy’s husband and PR guy, and as Dennis’s step-dad. Like get your hands off my man, tf. And you and me both, anon. You and me both. I've a few choice words to say there, a few choice words indeed, but I'll restrain myself... for now...

XD As if I’d ever mind. Besides, my responses aren’t exactly short either. I mean, look at this. Don’t apologise for talking to me, your messages are one of the highlights of my whole online experience. And hell yeah! 

I know, right! Finally, some delicious merch. It makes me feel so à la mode. 

NO, ANON, PLEASE COME BACK, DON’T LEAVE ME HERE AGAIN!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[moonmanatee]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

sweet @saintgarbanzo tagged me even though he knows I’ve got but the one lil fic! then it got lost in my drafts. this might be a bit silly but cool to see where I’m starting, maybe. thank you, chickpea! you can find his lovely answers here 🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

just one: Sun Shower!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

5950

3. What fandoms do you write for?

so far just HP, but I’ve got some drafts of other stuff (some SOC, AML, etc) that I may or may not keep working on. I did just cannibalize my favorite line from a wesper wip for a drarry one sooo we shall see

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

haha! sun shower

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do - commenting is probably my most favorite part of being a fic reader, so the comments section is important to me. there’s so much to love out there, and the comments are my favorite place to express it

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

none! don’t think I’m angst guy, really. I have some wips with pining, with complicated family feelings, with hurt, but it doesn’t quite feel like angst. and certainly won’t end that way!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

well, surprise: sun shower has a pretty sweet ending. it feels like a beginning more than an ending, though.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven’t! does it count if my partner is like ‘noooo, abandoning me for the laptop again’

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

hmm, I think my smut is overwhelming and reverent and enthusiastic and honest and probably a little excessive. and WANT. and kinky. once I share some you’ll have to let me know if this is accurate

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

my mind is always thinking in connections, but that usually comes out in AU form (drarry: grace & frankie! parent trap!! the beckhams!! wesper princess diaries 2 AU!!!), rather than like everyone showing up in the same scene. so no, i guess.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

not yet, but I think I would really love this. I feel so much love about other people’s writing and so excited to share in ideas, so I feel like this format would be such a delight for me.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I don’t think I have one all-time, because once I love something I love it forever. so I just keep collecting more all-time favorites. but drarry I feel the most immense about and committed to, which is saying something because there’s very little I love that I don’t love immensely. and to be honest, my commitment to drarry is certainly because I love them as characters, but it is also about the community being so wonderful. so thank you, y’all, it’s really special here.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably never will?

so I had this completely bonkers idea that I call “avada banana tag” which is when someone dies everyone they avada-ed comes back to life, like banana tag. i.e. when Molly kills Bellatrix, we get Sirius back, etc (yes I know that only happens in the movie but bear with me for goofy concept reasons). like, the spell only holds as long as they do? makes it a pretty short-sighted way of killing someone. but that’s as far as the idea goes because it’s so absurd and messy, and I don’t think canon rewrites are something I’d know how to do justice. but I think it’s so funny and fascinating, so if anyone wants to run with it please feel free

16. What are your biggest writing strengths?

100% it’s coming up with ideas. you should see my idea dump document, it’s abundant in there. and maybe description, I hope, and sensory experiences

17. What are your biggest writing weaknesses?

I won’t call it a weakness but I have less experience with plotty things, and get really stuck in dialogue that feels off.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I’m not fluent enough in anything else that I think I could do this myself, but as a reader I really love it, both when I do and don’t understand what’s going on. and I like communicating that they’re speaking in another language without just translating. I think I’d love to incorporate my other languages (spanish and ASL) into fic, and I also love when Draco speaks french. when it’s well done I think it’s so impactful!

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I think it was actually someone else’s OCs, what feels like forever ago

20. What is your favorite fic you’ve written?

the one that’s still in my brain that I think about most days… it’s so very beautiful. I hope one day it makes it out of there!

though I love sun shower too. my first real guy, feels like a big deal, I’m proud of myself for doing it and actually sharing it!

I will tag @elskanellis, @getawayfox, @saintlupin, @rockingrobin69 if you want and haven’t already!!

[whoistartaglia]

hai haiii this is a req for your event!

al haitham + second chance romance

also, congrats on 1.5k followers! you v much deserve it!

here it is!! i hope you like it. i’ve been facing such like, writer’s block, recently, but i’ve enjoyed writing this.

trope: second chance romance

including: al haitham

as soon as you and al haitham could, you got married. it was a courtroom wedding. rings were exchanged, but it was the signing of the marriage document that really mattered. you were both young and foolish, and thought your love would last forever.

you were soon to learn that “forever” was only about three years and a couple weeks. you don’t even know if you could count those last few weeks, since all you and al haitham did during them was argue.

that was about a year ago. you haven’t seen him since, even though you’re technically still married. you thought the next time you would see al haitham would be in court—sooner or later you would have to get divorced—but no, it wasn’t a courtroom.

“what were you thinking?” you demand, opening the door to al haitham’s house. your old house. you still have the keys.

“i didn’t think—“

“you didn’t think doing something like that would land you in the hospital?” you lead al haitham inside and set him down on the couch. the doctor said it was only a minor concussion, but still called you in to drive him home, uncomfortable with him driving a car.

“it’s fine, really,” al haitham insists. he watches as you march into the kitchen and open his refrigerator. he hears a grunt of disapproval.

“what are you doing?” he asks.

“making you dinner,” you respond curtly. you’ve found at least some ingredients to work with.

“why?”

“are you really going to ask the person who’s feeding you ‘why?’”

al haitham promptly shuts up. he listens as you start cooking: the cutting of onions, your immediate cursing at those onions, a towel grabbed to wipe your eyes.

you… were never the best cook. that was always al haitham. but al haitham appreciates your efforts all the same, especially when you set down a steaming plate of dinner infront of him—and this time, it actually smells pretty good.

“thank you,” he says. then, somewhat bravely, “i’ve missed your cooking, [name].”

you scoff and begin digging into your own plate. “don’t lie to me.”

“i’m not lying,” he insists. “i’ve missed your cooking.”

you don’t quite believe al haitham. towards the end, you both took your own meals. actually, you stopped eating together long before you actually separated.

“i’ve missed you too, actually,” al haitham says. you slowly set your fork and knife down and stare at him.

“you’re lying to me,” you decide. “first about the food, now about… that.”

“but i’m not.”

“but you are.” you get up, take your dish—al haitham’s too, though he isn’t done with it yet—and march back into the kitchen.

“[name], please—“

“i don’t want to hear it,” you tell him. you drop the dishes into the sink with an unceremonious clang.

“but i’m not lying,” al haitham says. he’s entered the kitchen and stands behind you now.

“i don’t know that.”

“you don’t believe me?”

“should i?” you ask. you shake your head then. “it’s not the time for this. i don’t want to argue with you while you’re injured.”

“then don’t argue, listen,” al haitham tells you. “i’m not lying to you, [name]. i know you don’t believe or trust me right now, but it’s true.

“you don’t have to give me an answer now. but please—i think you should give us another chance.”

you cross your arms, conflicted. on one hand, you’ve missed al haitham. although it was an impulsive wedding and more-than-messy breakup, you miss him. on the other hand, you don’t know if you could trust him again—if you even should get back together.

“i’ll think about it,” you tell him finally. he smiles faintly, but then winces. you quickly continue, “but right now, you need to rest.”

al haitham doesn’t protest when you help him to his bedroom. you’re about to leave before al haitham catches your arms and says, “please stay, [name]. it doesn’t have to be in here, but please—stay for tonight.”

you feel like you did all those years ago when you got married—young and foolish. you know you should go. that would be the more mature and much smarter decision. you haven’t even told al haitham if you actually want to get try getting back together or not. you know you should go, but you don’t.

“okay,” you say. “i’ll stay.” al haitham gives you a tired smile, and you feel yourself blush despite yourself.

you might always be young and foolish when it comes to al haitham.

[littlespace-imagines]

This is kinda detailed (feel free to ignore)

A king/prince vampire coming home from like a awful meeting to human! Little reader who has recently had a boo boo (probably from tripping while playing or something like that), and since the vampire can smell the blood, he’s instantly at the readers side and basically being a softie for them

Absolutely!

Cg!Vampire (Vince) x little!reader

Contains: fluff, cursing, description of bloody injury, split nail, more than one POV, cgl dynamics, established relationships, vince is the goth daddy of every littles dreams

**Ageregression and Littlespace will never be sexualized on this blog**

(Vince’s POV)

I didn’t anticipate getting called into work especially one one of the rare days my little one is able to visit but here I was, fuming mad and looking over my employees.

“How does someone fuck up this badly?” I ask calmly, taking in the faces of the people sitting before me, all dressed in suits but avoiding my gaze. I ran a hand through my hair and looked back over the board.

“Well? Did you all go mute?” I ask, a bit harsher this time,

A woman clears her throat and my eyes snap to her I see her flinch at my hard gaze,

“Well, Sir, uh, Martha went on maternity leave.” She says

“And? Is it not your job to assign the workload to another person?” I ask and she nods

“Yes, it is, I thought I had sent an email about it to Anthony, Sir.” She responds

“Ah I see. So you didn’t send the email to Anthony.” I say as calmly as possible she once again nods. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and look over the same documents again.

“Christina, you’re fired, if you can’t do your job you do t have a place here. Anthony, you’re hired onto her position, congratulations you get a raise. Oh and sam please post a job opening and I was no less than 10 resumes and applications on my desk by Monday. As for the rest of you let this incident be a fucking example that I don’t tolerate slacking at this company.” I say before turning to leave, I walked my way to my car and climbed in. I thought about calling my baby who’s at my house, alone and unfamiliar with everything, they’ve only been over a couple of times and I felt bad to leave them.

I decided I’d stop by their favorite fast food restaurant and order their favorite meal, food always cheers them up. Once I’ve gotten the food I drive straight home as fast as I can, as I’m coming up the driveway I can hear the soft sound of them pattering around, I smile to myself as I hear them running towards the door as soon as I start unlocking the door, I open it just in time to catch them falling, food held safely in one hand and my arm wrapped around them to keep them safe. I take in their shocked face followed be relief, I stop for a second to admire the adorable way their dressed,

They look up at me briefly before I smell it.

They’re bleeding.

I quickly sit everything I’m holding on the very end table they almost fell from, I inspect their foot and quickly find the bleeding toe, I look up and see the tears running down their face and I can feel panic rising in me.

Panic, I haven’t felt that in so long.

I run to the bathroom grabbing some cartoon character bandaids they insist I keep for them because they’re clumsy, and a small first aid kit. I run back and sit on the floor infront of them before I realize I have no clue what I’m doing,

“Oh god fuck, what did I do?” I ask, looking up at them

“You don’t know what to do?” They ask me and I shake my head, I can see the grip on their stuffed animal tighten in worry,

“Love, I’ve been undead for nearly three centuries, the last time I went to a doctor they gave me leaches and prescribed me chlorodyne which is now known as chloroform.” I said with a chuckle as they looked at me with wide eyes

“I, I, I don’t know, I can’t think.” They mumble and I for the first time take a good look at them, they’re little. They’re little and their hurt and I don’t know what to do.

I feel angry, I’m angry at myself, how could I let this happen?

“Daddy?” They ask and my eyes snap up to their eyes,

“Yes, love?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady

“I think I just need a bandaid, it’ll be okay.” They say and I nod, holding the box up to them, they pick out a very cute and very tiny bandaid, I follow the instructions on the back, making sure the cotton pad is directly over the bleeding.

I stand up and scoop the into my arms, they wrap their legs around my waist and bury their head in the crook of my neck, I smile and hold them tightly, hoping that maybe I can love away the pain.

“Oh, yes, I got you some food.” I say and they perk up,

“Did you get my favorite?” They ask and I laugh,

“Yes, Ofcourse.” I say,

Once I get them settled down and eating with their drink poured in their favorite sippy cup and their favorite cartoon I excuse myself, I quickly grab the now empty end table and take it to the back yard, with a single throw the end table is nearly obliterated, pieces of wood and screws litter the yard, I pick up every piece I can before throwing it in the garbage and make my way back inside.

Atleast for now I don’t have to worry about the end table anymore.

[volleychumps]

« Accidentally Lashing Out at Their S/O

genre: angst to fluff

format: scenarios

- includes: Akaashi and Sakusa 

------------------------------------------------------

Akaashi Keiji

“Keiji, please come to bed soon.” 

“Working.” 

The snipped reply had the beginnings of a swirl of anger within your stomach, causing you to puff out some hair in your eyes in slight annoyance. This had been a week long occurrence, and you feared Akaashi may faint from exhaustion from how heavy he took on his workloads every night. 

“Y/N, please sleep. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Akaashi attempted to soften his tone, but an edge still remained that highlighted his irritability. You gnawed on your lower lip momentarily before taking a seat on the couch not too far away, reaching for your book. 

“Y/N-” 

“When you sleep, I’ll sleep.” 

“Are you a child?” 

You scoff through your nose, feeling an argument on the tip of your tongue depending on how you responded.

“I just care about you, you haven’t slept before three in the morning in days, my love-” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe you being too overbearing is adding to my stress?” Akaashi’s voice raised the slightest in volume, making your chest sink at the rare circumstance you found yourself in. It was as if all the stress bubbling up in his stomach was beginning to simmer over. 

“Maybe if you stopped and thought for a moment you would realize-” 

You snapped your book shut. Akaashi’s pen stopped bleeding angrily onto the document as a silence of realization flooded the room. 

“Good idea. Maybe I should think more, because right now, I’m realizing how much of a prick you’ve been to me when I’ve been nothing but patient.” 

“Y/N-” 

“I change my mind, don’t come to bed. Work yourself to the point until you pass out in that desk of yours.” Your tone didn’t waver, and you tried your best to appear unbothered-

but Akaashi heard it. Your voice crack.

You rushed out of the room before the blue-eyed boy could even rise from his desk, guilty apology in his throat. He sighed, following you into your shared bedroom as you continued your novel from within the sheets, seemingly unfazed save for your watery eyes. 

“Love, please look at me.” He sat carefully on the edge of the bed as you turn another page in disinterest. 

“Keiji, you know it hurts me when you aren’t healthy right? What if you get sick?” Your eyes didn’t look up from the ink on paper you weren’t paying attention to, but a tear slipped your eye. The defeated tone in your wavering words made Akaashi’s chest tighten even more. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Let me sleep with you tonight?” 

The novel now laid forgotten on your lap as you allow him to move closer to you, cupping your cheek carefully before pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I’ll be better. You’re right, I’m way too exhausted-” 

“Then let’s get you out of work clothes-” You unloosen his tie, using it to pull him into you to which he responds immediately. His breath fans your lips, blue eyes gazing into yours tiredly and lovingly before you kiss him quickly. “And into bed.” 

He laughs once, soft smile gracing his handsome features before kissing your lips a second time. 

“There’s nothing I’d like more, my love.” 

Sakusa Kiyoomi

 “Go talk to him. It doesn’t matter to me.” 

“Kiyoomi, please-” You followed your tall boyfriend with exasperation on your features, making sure not to trip on your dress. 

“Did you forget who you came here with, Y/N?” Sakusa’s tone was coldly amused as your cheeks flood with heat with people beginning to stare. 

“Let’s talk in private.” 

Sakusa knew he should’ve listened. The rational part of him knew that he should’ve scanned the situation better, but that rational part was drowned out by the image of a flirty Atsumu talking you up near the open bar. 

“Why? You don’t want everyone to know that my girlfriend was flirting with my teammate at Hinata’s sponsor’s event?” He scoffed, but Sakusa’s lips soon find themselves sealed tight at the sight of the tears welling up in your eyes. 

You angrily wipe at them before trying to control your emotions. “You left me alone at a party where I hardly know anyone. You went to go talk to connections or whatever, making me feel like I was nothing but an accessory for you to bring. So excuse me if I found solace in a friend because my boyfriend abandoned me at a social event.” 

Sakusa’s dark eyes widened a fraction before you brush past him, bumping him in the shoulder with your own to dash down the hallway as far as your heels would allow. 

“Atsumu just wanted to make her feel comfortable.” Bokuto approaches his teammate, feeling guilty for having shown up a little late. “We were all going to hang around Y/N because this was her first event as your girlfriend.” 

“And you shouldn’t have left her alone.” Atsumu mumbled, barely audible for the party guests who were beginning to lose interest in the sparked drama. Sakusa’s jaw clenched before he winced, remembering your hurt expression before sighing and turning on his heel. He would deal with the annoying blonde later. 

He walked the same hallway you had ran down, feeling an unfamiliar emotion of guilt eat at his stomach. Was it because you were the first girl he opened his heart to? Was he really blinded by the anger of potentially losing you to someone who could make you laugh as easily as Atsumu did? 

Sakusa stalled at the sight of your heels laying by the balcony doors. He pushed them easily, heels in hand, before finding you nursing the soles of your feet in your dramatic escapade. 

The two of you stayed silent for awhile, the dark haired spiker kneeling down to your seated height before carefully picking up one of your sore feet. 

“Kiyoomi, it’s not clean-” 

“You’re hurt.” Was his curt reply before gently massaging it. You stare at your dark eyed boyfriend before your eyes begin to well up with tears again. 

“I’m sorry-” 

“No.” He cut you off, beginning to slip your shoe back on. “You did nothing wrong. I...I don’t know how to do this. Not with someone I love. I’m sorry if I made you feel as if you were nothing but a pretty accessory on my arm.”

“Kiyoomi...” 

“Although you are pretty-” He pulls down his mask and kisses your shin, causing heat to flood your cheeks. “You are so much more than that. I know I don’t say it often, but I hate seeing you cry. Especially if it’s by me. So teach me to love you properly, because I want to know how.” 

Your smile was so gorgeous in the moonlight, Sakusa cleared his throat before blushing underneath his mask, busying himself with the straps of your heels. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi.” 

And then he couldn’t help himself, tugging his mask down a second time to capture your lips with his own, closing his eyes. 

“You make my head spin, Y/N.” He whispers, causing you to shiver as his cold fingers touch the side of your neck. 

“But I think I like it.” 

-------------------------------

Hey guys! I changed up the characters and I’m only writing for two because I’m easing back into writing normally. I’ve been on a break for awhile because there’s been some personal issues going on at home and in school. Thank you for reading regardless:)

General works: @takemetovalhalla  @faesbae  @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046   @let-me-have-my-own-name  @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite   @curiouslilbeast  @aprettyfruit   @wisepandaslimeland   @h0ngh0ngh0ng   @lmkjimin   @orangegiraffe7   @dai-tsukki-desu   @kac-chowsballs   @spikertrash   @yamaguwuchi   @lord-suneater-explosion   @holaaaf  @babyybokutoakaashi   @lexysclubhouse   @disneyloving-muggle   @kuuuuroo   @theonep1ece  @that-chick212  

[pancakes4two]

CATALYST | I

preview: “Can’t stand it when they scream,” Harry explains to you. He grabs your wrist and lifts it up, his sleeve fluttering down to reveal the tattoos on his lower arm. You focus on the ink as he begins to explain something to you, tracing the lines of the anchor that decorates his skin.

“There’s a small cluster of veins at the side of his neck here. If you hit them, he’ll bleed out fairly quickly and painlessly.”

“H-here?” You ask, shakily pointing at a spot right above where George’s neck meets his shoulder.

“A little higher,” Harry directs you, “There. Hold the knife steady now. You have to do it fast or it’ll slip.”

chapter specific warnings: drug mentions, graphic violence, murder

a/n: here it is! chapter one of catalyst. if you haven’t look at it yet, i would highly recommend reading the intro post here first as that has content warnings and a synopsis. also please bear with me as this is my first time writing this kind of concept ahhh!! 

reminder that this is purely a work of fiction! i (obviously) have zero real knowledge on making drug deals and murdering people lmao. i’m not condoning/romanticizing any of the events in this fic and none of the faceclaims are affiliated with any of the events/actions that occur.

with that being said, reblogs are much appreciated & thank you all for reading!

(p.s. the soundtrack adds a lot to the reading experience imo so if you can/want to please listen to the songs at the beginning of each section!)

MY OTHER BLURBS/FICS | SEND ME A REQUEST

TRACK: GLORY BOX

It happens on a Tuesday morning. Three sharp knocks on your apartment door. The impatient tapping of a foot against linoleum, getting louder as you slowly make your way out of bed. You push the lock out of place, chain dangling back and forth while you twist the silver doorknob. You’re greeted with the last person on Earth you were expecting to see: your former boss at Interpol, Naomi Rossi.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Naomi lets herself into your apartment, flitting through the living room like a butterfly, brushing past your curtains and touching the spines of the books on your coffee table. She never did have any sense of personal boundaries.

“Looks like you’ve settled in nicely,” Naomi ignores your question, sitting down on your couch and gesturing for you to take a seat as well. “Listen, my presence here isn’t welcome, I know that. I care about you deeply, and I wouldn’t be here asking you to do this if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

You stare at your former boss, waiting for her to continue. Distantly, your alarm sounds from your bedroom, and your fingers itch to go and shut it off, but the grim expression on Naomi’s face pins you to your place. You sit there frozen, heart pounding, desperately hoping she’s not going to make the request you think she’s about to make.

“I need you to go back undercover.” Naomi says, confirming your suspicions. She crosses one leg over the other, her fingers tapping nervously against a cushion as she waits for you to respond.

“Are you insane?” You laugh, pushing yourself off the couch. You point at your front door aggressively, trying to steady your breathing. “I thought you might ask me that, but I didn’t think you’d be so insensitive as to actually do it. No way. I’m not fucking going back there.”

“You’re done with Interpol, and I’ve respected that for the past three years,” Naomi replies curtly. She lifts a perfectly-manicured hand and rests it lightly on the glass of your coffee table. “But people are dying, Y/N. Seven murders in just under eight months. The last three in the past month. All public figures. The police discovered a mixture of fentanyl, ecstasy, and sedatives in their bloodstreams after we ordered tox screens.”

“It’s Cherry,” you sigh, watching Naomi pull a stack of paper from her briefcase. She hands them to you and you scan the documents. They’re medical reports for all seven victims, confirming a lethal amount of drugs in their blood at the time of their deaths.

“We just can’t twiddle our thumbs while people are dying,” Naomi says, her dark eyes searching your features. “No one knows Cherry like you do. You’re our only hope at stopping this, Y/N, I’m pleading with you. Hasn’t three years away been enough?”

You swallowed. No, you wanted to scream at her. No amount of time away could ever undo the damage that being undercover did to me.

But Naomi was right. Interpol would never be able to get as close to Cherry as you did ever again. They didn’t stand a chance at solving the murders without sending someone inside. Unfortunately, your untimely exit three years ago effectively ended any sort of outside recruitment that the syndicate was doing. You were, as Naomi said, the only hope. If you didn’t say yes, more people would die, and their blood would be on your hands.

“I go in for two weeks,” you say, walking into your kitchen and reaching for your kettle. You hold it under the tap, plugging the appliance into the wall and turning it on once it’s filled with water. “No security details, no bugs. No rendezvous, either. I’m there for the entire time, and you don’t bother me until those two weeks are up.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Naomi protests over the sound of the water coming to a rolling boil.

“Then I’m not doing the job,” you reply as the kettle switches off. You dig in your cabinets for a tin of green tea, exclaiming softly when you find it. “You’re not going to pin a hidden camera to my shirt and send me in with a bodyguard, they’ll fucking kill me as soon as I step onto their territory. You either trust me to do this my way, or refuse and see what happens.”

“Fine,” Naomi tosses her hands in the air in exasperation while you scoop loose tea leaves into a mug. “We need to do a security clearance, and I have to send you in with one of our phones no matter what, in case of dire emergency. Can you agree to those terms?”

“Whatever,” you concede, “just go if there’s nothing else. I’ll stop by the office today to do what you need me to do.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Naomi says sincerely, “I know things got murky towards the end, but ultimately you’ve always stuck to your morals when it mattered the most. I’ve always admired that about you, and I’m glad you’re coming back to do this. The city needs you.”

You hum softly, bringing your tea to your lips. You show Naomi to the door and watch through the window as her car pulls out of the parking lot. Once the black SUV has turned the corner, you lean against the wall and watch as the ceiling spins. You let your head fall into your hands and take a few gasping breaths, before settling yourself and gulping down the last bit of your drink.

You’re honestly not sure what you’re more afraid of: dying, or having to face him again.

THREE YEARS EARLIER

TRACK: RANGE BROTHERS

Heavy bass pounds through the black speakers propped up at the front of the stage, the vibrations sliding down from the ceilings to the floor and landing at the base of your shoes. From the outside, Temptress looks like any other exclusive nightclub in London’s party district. Its black exterior is unassuming; there’s no signage save for the glow of a neon sign that spells out the club’s name in messy red cursive, and a single bouncer stands at the front door, smartly dressed and covered in tattoos. Temptress caters to a more high-brow clientele than the other nightclubs on Lexington street. On any given night, the  space is occupied by socialites and wealthy businessmen. Bartenders are at the guests’ beck-and-call, opening up five-thousand pound bar tabs and collecting one-hundred pound tips all night. It touts state-of-the-art sound systems, a massive marble bar that stretches across the expanse of the floor, and women and men alike adorned with glitter and ready to entertain. Most importantly, Temptress offers a level of anonymity that its competitors don’t offer: all guests and employees are required to wear eye masks that conceal their identities. Such a policy makes way for more under-the-table activity, although the majority of individuals who walk through the bulletproof glass doors of the club hardly do much more than what might be considered a minor felony.

The real business, and what you were here for, happened in the private lounges around the back.

“Coucou,” you call to a security guard standing in front of one of the rooms, “Hayes sent me here for a meeting.”

He looks you up and down while chewing on a piece of gum, blue eyes piercing as he scans every inch of your body. You wipe one hand quickly down the side of your skirt: now wasn’t the time to get nervous, you’re already in too deep.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N, sir.”

“Need to check if the Boss is available,” motioning for you to get closer. You touch the tiny microphone pinned to the back of your blouse, just to make sure it was still secure.

“Okay,” you oblige. As the man pats you down, you notice a small red name-tag pinned to his collar. Briggs, it read, though you highly doubted that was his real name. “Thanks, Briggs.”

Briggs grunts in response, running his hand through a biometric scanner. Once the machine finishes reading his fingerprints, the door in front of you unlocks with a click. The inside is made to look like a regular lounge. It’s furnished with sofas and has a tiny chandelier dangling from the ceiling. There’s a mirror propped up against the wall and a small ice bucket filled with drinks on a table. You get distracted looking around until Briggs makes a noise beside you. When you turn to him, you find that he’s lifted the carpet that was previously spread out in the middle of the floor and revealed an opening that leads down towards the basement.

“Follow me down,” Briggs says, offering you a hand as you crouched into the small space. “Close the door behind you.”

You follow his orders and shut the small door, plunging the two of you into darkness. Distantly, you see a row of lights flickering softly.

“Careful,” Briggs calls out, “the next step is the last one.”

Once your feet have returned to solid ground, Briggs guides you to look to your left. What you see is a massive grey hallway filled with doors. The only sources of light comes from small antique lanterns that are placed between every door. A night-vision security camera turns robotically, capturing any slight movement that occurs in the hallway on video. You notice four other security guards of similar build to Briggs walking up and down slowly, their hands resting protectively over the handguns clipped to their sides.

“Stay here,” Briggs says, before walking towards the door at the very end of the hallway. It’s significantly larger than the rest and made of mahogany. The top is built like an archway and some of the wood is darker than the rest. You think it might be engravings, but you’re not close enough to tell. Briggs whispers to the man stationed at the front of the door briefly, then looks back at you and signals for you to walk over to him.

“You can go in now. He’s just finishing up another meeting.”

“Alright,” you respond, and the other security guard lets you in. There’s a lot to take in with this office: the walls are painted a dark, velvet-y purple and giant bookshelves line the sides. A group of three men are standing in front of the desk in the middle of the room, which is made of the same mahogany wood as the massive front door. They’re having a hushed conversation that you can’t quite listen in on. Suddenly, the man in the middle kneels down to the floor, hand shaking. The absence of his standing body reveals another man sitting at the desk, his fingers curled around a sharp knife. He’s wearing a red silk shirt that’s been unbuttoned down to the base of his chest, revealing tattoos of two birds sitting just below his collarbones. He looks down at the kneeling man, then at you. Green eyes completely devoid of emotion, he flashes you a saccharine-sweet smile.

You would recognize that face anywhere. Harry Styles, the most ruthless man in all of the United Kingdom and Europe. Inheriting the Cherry syndicate after the untimely death of his father, Harry was known for his clinical way of doing business and unrelenting cruelty. He had taken his father’s modest crime organization and transformed it into an empire before he even turned thirty. Nearly ninety percent of all drugs and weapons coming into the city of London originate from deals brokered by Cherry. Most importantly, Harry conducts all of his business by proxy. Hidden in the shadows of the Temptress basement, Harry’s men do all of his dirty work for him while he plays puppet master from the very desk in front of you. It’s impossible to definitively connect him to any crime, and up until two weeks ago, Interpol didn’t even know what he looked like. He’s cunning, charismatic, and extremely talented at evading the law. 

“You’re just in time,” Harry says, raising the knife in his hand with a flourish. “George here is about to select which one of his friends is going to kill him for compromising a million-pound shipment.”

“Right,” you say, while the two men next to George sputter in protest. George gaze shifts from the two men to Harry frantically, and cranes his neck to look at you desperately.

You swallow the bile quickly rising into your throat and watch as Harry stands up and leans against the front of his desk, the glistening blade of his knife pressed lightly to his chin as he looks to the distraught men carefully.

One of the men speaks up, voice shaking so much that the words tumbling out of his mouth are barely comprehensible. “W-we won’t do th-that Boss, it-it’s not fair. H-he made a m-mistake. But that d-don’t discount the l-loyalty he’s given y-you for years.”

“I don’t give a shit about that! His mistake cost me a million pounds, and a client that could’ve brought in millions in future revenue. That’s not how I run my business. I don’t care for bumbling idiots who can’t transport basic cargo.”

“S-sorry Boss, truly-y.”

Harry tuts, crossing one leg over the other. “Look at the three of you. So pathetic. Won’t kill your friend for me? I’ll remember that next time you’re kneeling at my desk begging me to spare you like George is right now. You must remember I take loyalty very seriously here.”

“Fortunately for you, I’m feeling nice today,” Harry says, walking up to the men and looking them up and down. “Don’t look so excited, George. You’re still dying today, but it won’t be by the hands of your friends.”

TRACK: ARABELLA

“Tell me,” Harry says, looking through the gap between the men’s three shaking silhouettes to where you stand frozen in place. “How would you like for this pretty lady to be the one to kill you?”

The thing is, both you and Interpol were fully aware that you were going to have to commit some crimes and serious moral sins in order to maintain your cover. But murder on the first day was a bit too much. You looked at Harry, your breaths coming out in short puffs. You racked your brain for the right thing to say. You knew he was probably bluffing, trying to intimidate you into submission on your first meeting with him.

Come on, words, you tried to speak but your mouth was hopelessly dry and nothing was coming out.

“Don’t be nervous, love,” Harry smiles, beckoning you to come closer to him. He hands the knife to you and gingerly closes your fingers around the handle.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you manage to get out, feeling the weight of the weapon against your palm.

“Is it your first time doing something like this?” He asks. He opens his mouth to say something, but then seems to change his mind after realizing something. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. I haven’t even asked you for your name yet.”

“My name’s Y/N.”

“Such a pretty name,” Harry coos, “is it your first time doing something like this, Y/N?”

You nod, fearing that if you say anything else you might vomit all over Harry, and something tells you he wouldn’t appreciate that very much.

“Everyone's nervous their first time,” Harry hums, “it’s normal to get a little stage fright. But I’m right here, and I’ll help you through it.”

You watch as Harry reaches over his desk and opens a small cabinet. He pulls out a piece of cloth and gags George with it, pushing George’s head back violently when he’s finished wrapping the cloth around his mouth.

“Can’t stand it when they scream,” Harry explains to you. He grabs your wrist and lifts it up, his sleeve fluttering down to reveal the tattoos on his lower arm. You focus on the ink as he begins to explain something to you, tracing the lines of the anchor that decorates his skin.

“There’s a small cluster of veins at the side of his neck here. If you hit them, he’ll bleed out fairly quickly and painlessly.”

“H-here?” You ask, shakily pointing at a spot right above where George’s neck meets his shoulder.

“A little higher,” Harry directs you, “There. Hold the knife steady now. You have to do it fast or it’ll slip.”

You steady your hand as much as you possibly can, shifting your weight more towards your back leg. George looks up at you pleadingly and you flash him an apologetic look before shifting your gaze to the wall behind him: you couldn’t possibly look this man in the eyes as you killed him. Holding your breath, you bring the knife back and penetrate it into his neck, feeling warm blood splatter onto your hand and the front of your shirt.

“Oh, you did so good,” Harry says as you pull the knife out. George lets out a muffled scream and takes multiple gasping breaths. You close your eyes, starting to feel quite dizzy. “Such a good job, Y/N.”

“I-is that all you needed me to do?” You breathe out. You hear a body, presumably George’s fall to the ground with a thump.

“I need you to stay for a little while longer. Our meeting didn’t go quite like I had planned,” Harry sighs. He turns to the two men slowly inching away from George’s dead body, and points at the door. “You two need to get the fuck out of here, and remember next time I won’t let you off so easily.”

“Y-yes, Boss,” the one on the left says, before the two of them shuffle quickly out of the room.

The door slams shut behind the two of them, leaving you in the room alone with Harry. He brings you around to the bathroom that’s connected to his office, carefully pulling the knife out of your hands and placing them under the running water. He helps scrub the blood out of your skin, alternating between rubbing bar soap on your palms and rinsing them off with warm water. You wondered how many other people he’d cleaned up at this sink, how many other innocent people’s blood had trickled down this drain. 

Once your hands are cleaned, Harry wipes them off with a towel and guides you back towards his desk.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that,” Harry says, using the same towel to polish off his knife before placing it next to his arm. “Things aren’t usually so messy around here, but understandably, sometimes you just have to dispose of dead weight quickly.”

“I wanted to thank you,” He continues, “most of my men mumble and grumble about hurting people for their first six months at Cherry, but you killed for me on your first day. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“You did say you took loyalty very seriously,” is what you reply with, watching his tricep muscles flex underneath his shirt.

“That’s right,” Harry assents, “And I always reward loyalty, which is why I would like to offer you to join me at a very important business meeting at the end of this week. It’s very rare that I step out and do these dealings on my own, so I need my absolute best men with me. I’m taking a gamble on you, Y/N, based on the loyalty that you displayed in front of me just now. You’re getting a chance to do big things, here. What do you say?”

You smile at Harry, though he’s unaware the reason why you’re truly happy is because he’s just handed you a perfect opportunity to pin him to something that’ll potentially put him behind bars for a long, long time.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Perfect,” Harry smiles back, getting up and showing you back towards the door. 

“I have a feeling you’re going to be something special.”

You have no idea, Harry, you thought to yourself.

[theinvisiblecapricorn]

Surprise, surprise.

Author's note: This is my first ever written one shot. The inspiration popped into my head during my shower. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy

Fluffy one shot.

Part 1.

// Introduction //

A little info about Y/N and Vinnie.

So, you guys met during the first Covid lockdown.

You weren’t really seeing anyone of your friends during this time because you didn’t feel like taking any risks. So the only way for you to interact with anyone, was via social media. Before lockdown you also kind of give up on the idea of finding a lover because the last time you gave it a shot it didn’t work out.

You remember one of your best friends told you ‘’ Once you start focusing on yourself, it’ll come to you. ‘’ Well, what better way to focus on yourself other than during quarantine?

That’s when Vinnie came into the picture.

After many failed attempts of having a normal conversation with serval people, the last thing Vinnie expected was to meet someone like you. A lot of the time people tried to take advantage of the fact that he was famous. They would post his personal info on social media and share their conversations for clout. Just like you, Vinnie was kind of over the idea of meeting someone who would like him for his personality instead of his name.

You guys instantly clicked. It felt like talking to someone you’ve known your entire life. There wasn’t a thing you couldn’t share with another. But because the two of you lived in different time zones you couldn’t talk as much as you’d like, but you made it manageable. There was only one problem; traveling was not an option due to Covid, so the two of you had never seen each other in real life.

Until now…

// End of introduction //

Alex (Warren) set up his camera to make a video.

He clicked on record and looked into the camera.

‘’ So as you guys know, Vinnie and Y/N met online in the beginning of Covid, but they’ve never officially seen each other in real life. Now that traveling is allowed again and Vinnie hasn’t been feeling himself lately, I thought it was a good idea to surprise him. I bought y/n a plan ticket so she can come over and hopefully cheer Vinnie up. And I will document the entire journey. ‘’

// Vinnie’s POV //

It’s noon. I lay on my bed, scrolling on my phone through TikTok. I haven’t heard from Y/N all day. Normally she would call me before going to bed herself, but she never did. I tried texting her but no reply.

Y/NNNN????

Yo bro, you there???

I miss your voiceeee

Please don’t be asleep already 

Pick up!!!!!! Or else I’m coming for you.

God, I wish I could just fly to wherever she was at and kiss her entire face. Because, yes, I am indeed in love with her, and she feels the same way about me. I just never thought I could recognize so much of myself in someone else. She’s the most kind, beautiful and loving person I know, and I can’t wait to hold her in my arms one day and never let go.

I’m starting to daydream about a life with y/n without the long distance, because it truly sucks. Then I hear a knock on the door and before I know it Alex comes rushing in with his camera in his hand.

( Vinnie & Alex )

‘’ Vinnie, say hello to everyone! ‘’

‘’ Hello everyone. Alex what do you want? ‘’

‘’ Why are you assuming I want something from you? ‘’

‘’ Because you only enter my room if you either have one of your crazy ideas to share or if you want me to get involved in something I probably shouldn’t get involved into. ‘’

‘’ Pfft, not true. My ideas aren’t crazy, they’re brilliant in their own way. ‘’

Alex grins at me. Suspiciously.

‘’ Anyways that’s not the point Vincent, I actually came in to see if you would join me to get some groceries because the only thing left are rise waffles and I’m starving. ‘’

Alex is blinking his eyes with the same grin he has had on from the moment he came into my room.

He’s not going to leave until I agree on coming. So before I know it, we’re on our way to the grocery store.

// Y/N’s POV //

I received a text from Alex a few weeks ago. He told me about his idea to surprise Vinnie. I couldn’t be more excited. Ever since Vinnie and I started talking I have pushed many of my personal boundaries. In a positive way. Vinnie has helped me regain trust in others and has showed me that love is real. I have lost my faith in love due to my previous experiences. That’s why the connection that I have with Vinnie is so important to me.

I have arrived at the airport as I turn on my phone. My phone starts to receive all the missed text messages and calls from Vinnie. I smile as I read through them.

‘’ Oh Vin, if only you knew ‘’ I think to myself.

I hear someone yelling my name behind me. As I turn around, I see Nailea running towards me.

Nailea is a close friend of Vinnie so of course she was the first to know about Vinnie’s contact with me. She’s been super kind to me, and I consider her as the sister I never had.

Nailea hugs me once she has approached me.

( Y/N & Nailea )

‘’ OH MY GOD. Girl, I am so happy that you’re finally hereeeee!!! ’’

I laugh as I see people around looking at us.

‘’ I am also very happy to be here. To finally meet everyone. For real. ‘’

‘’ Yea, now tell me, does my nose look bigger on the screen than in real life? ‘’

‘’ Hahaha, no Nai. You look fantastic on the screen and even better in real life. ‘’

Nailea and I take my stuff and walk out of the airport.

Once settled in the car, I receive a text from Alex:

We’re almost at the store. He hasn’t got a clue. See you there.

This is all a part of Alex his big plan. First, I will act like a regular costumer shopping at the same store as Vinnie and Alex. Then once they get back, Alex will distract Vinnie just a little longer, so he won’t notice me walking past the car right away. Brilliant.

// Vinnie’s POV //

Alex and I walk into the store.

‘’ Alright, what do we need? ‘’

‘’ Anything but rise waffles. ‘’

I shake my head, laughing, as I walk to the lemonade aisle.

Alex is taking out his camera and starts filming me from a far.

I start singing Paparazzi by Lady Gaga as I act like I'm hiding from him.

‘’ Oh, you should also take a few cans of coke. ‘’ Alex suggests.

As I walk towards the aisle with cans of lemonade, I notice a girl standing in front of it. Her hair instantly reminds me of Y/N. The exact same length, color and texture. Call me a simp, but I just pay a lot of attention to the girl I love. I slowly approach the girl before Alex attacks be by throwing a teddy bear on my head.

‘’ Hey, watch it! ‘’ I fix my hair.

‘’ Sorry man, I just know how much you like teddy bears. ‘’ Alex’s laughing out loud as he zooms in to my face.

I laugh, as I start to think back to the day Alex thought it would be funny to buy a giant teddy bear and have Patrick in it to scare me.

Just then, I notice the girl was gone. I didn’t see her anywhere else again.

After collecting all the stuff, we needed, we went home.

Once we arrived home, Alex stopped me before I opened my car door.

‘’ Let’s just sit here for a bit and talk about some stuff. ‘’ I stare at Alex with a confused look on my face.

‘’ Yea, because the viewers want to know, how are things going between you and Y/N? ‘’

I scratch the back of my neck and start feeling the heat take over my cheeks.

‘’ I mean, it’s hard sometimes. She’s one of the most important people in my life, yet I haven’t even met her in person. But I just know that once I do, that everything will naturally fall into it’s place. ‘’

Alex pouts as he listens to all the sweet things I have to say.

‘’ You really like her, don’t you? ‘’

‘’ I mean, yea I do. I really do. ‘’

‘’ Alright, so imagine her standing in front of you right now, what would you do? ‘’

I look at my hands as I start to imagine a situation like that.

‘’ Uh… If she was standing in front of me right now.. I would.. ‘’ My eyes scan a figure walking past the car and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

// Y/N’s POV //

Shit, I almost got caught. The plan was to go into the store, just to admire Vinnie from a far. I didn’t plan to stand in the exact aisle, where he needed to get something from. Luckily, Alex had a plan to distract Vinnie while I fled to the exit. Phew, that was close.

Alex texted me, saying they were on their way home. That’s when it hit me, I am going to be able to see, touch and kiss Vinnie for the first time ever. Nailea noticed my anxiety kicking in and she told me everything would be just fine.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s car pulled up on the driveway. Alex and Vinnie stayed in the car for a bit. My phone started buzzing as I read the notification: ‘’ Now!’’ That was my cue.

As nervous as one can be, I walked past the car with the person who’s the other half of my heart in it. I didn’t dare to look in his direction.

// Vinnie’s POV //

I couldn’t believe my eyes. This isn’t real right? Was I dreaming? I mean, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night because I was worried sick due to Y/N not responding to me anymore.

I rub my eyes as I watch in the direction of the person again and there’s no way it couldn’t be her.

Then she turns her face into my direction and my heart starts pounding. There she is, the love of my life, the only person who can make my day just by popping up in my notifications, Y/N.

As I try to open my door, I hear Alex locking it.

‘’ Let me out! ‘’ I look at Alex as I try to unlock the door, but unable because he keeps his hand infront of the lock.

‘’ You haven’t answered my question yet. ‘’ Alex smirks at me, but I do not find it funny at all.

‘’ Please, let me out and I’ll show you what I would do if she were to stand in front of me ‘’

And with, I heard the door unlock. I jumped out of the car and ran as fast as I could to the person who I longed for the most.

Click here for part two;

[writerlyhabits]

Scenario: Din’s crewmate works really hard. They’ll get so in the zone that they will forget to eat, or forget to stay hydrated, or will stay awake way later than they should. And Din HATES it. He wants you to take care of yourself, and it frustrates him to no end when he sees how exhausted you get only to find out you haven’t eaten today, or have only slept a few hours.

Hi, I'm so sorry this took as long as it did... it was another incident of 'big blank document & big empty brain.' And then once I started going with something I liked, BoBF episodes came out; I had to decide if I wanted to scrap the whole thing and start from a new angle with the content we were gifted, or keep going with what I had.

As you'll see, I went with what I started with because I really did like what @deceiverofgodss and I came up with, so with her seal of approval (thank you my love 💖) I present you something BoBF spoiler-free! Thanks for your patience friends, I hope you enjoy! 😘

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: mild cursing, lack of self-care, subjects of grief and parental loss, Bo Katan being a bitch, pre-established relationship, helmetless Din ... i think that's it?

“Please tell me you’ve moved since I saw you last,” Din asked as he entered the room, talking to the back of your head as he found you perched on the couch, silhouetted by the glow of the holo pad in the dark room. You didn’t respond, but he already had the answer to his question. He knew that if you had been mobile or at least conscious of the world around you, there would have been another source of light other than the screen in your hands.

Din moved through the small living space of the inn’s most expensive suite on Nevarro to get to you, a generous gift from Greef as you stopped by on your travels. Din knew it would be in exchange for help in some fashion, but he didn’t mind the work… it was a good distraction. That’s why he’d brought the two of you here in the first place; a distraction, a break from everyone and everything that had been consuming your life as of late.

The darksaber that had found itself in his possession came with a whole world of burdens and responsibilities Din had never planned on taking. He stepped into the role of Mand’alor when it became clear there would be no avoiding it and took you by his side, your marriage earning you the same title, much to Bo Katan’s chagrin. And she made her opinion heard loud and clear.

“Mandalore should never have fallen into the hands of a Child of the Watch and his aruetii,” she had sneered. He remembered seeing that your stone solid expression hadn’t changed in her presence, holding your tongue better than he did, Din having made a snide comment in retaliation that only riled up the redhead more. But what got to him was the way you broke once it had just been the two of you.

“She’s right… before you try and argue, tell me that these clans will take us seriously enough to help reclaim Mandalore when their leader doesn’t even wear beskar’gam. That they’ll give us the time of day when I haven’t even sworn the creed.”

“You said your vows, you live by them as I do. You are my riduur, as I am yours. That makes you Mandalorian,” he had tried, an attempt to reassure you, but he could tell you were hesitant. He couldn’t blame you though; as much as he wanted to knock Bo Katan to the ground for saying it, your fears had roots.

After trying to figure out what he had inherited in his new role, the planet of Mandalore was not only in physical ruin, but was shrouded in rumors of curses and uneasy mystery. The two of you had agreed that if you had any plans to reclaim the planet as the home of the Mandalorians, your strength would lie in your numbers. This was what had sent you traveling through the galaxy, set on tracking down Mandalorian clans and earning their support for when the time came.

These travels, of course, left you and Din in the near-constant company of Bo Katan and her cronies; while she may have been snide and hell-bent on power, one for changing terms as she saw fit… she was the most knowledgeable on the planet’s history you had encountered thus far. She proved herself somewhat useful, but was on thin ice with the snide authority she continued treating the two of you with, and Din was at his end.

As the Mand’alor, he felt it was in his power to take his wife on a well-deserved vacation, and had whisked you away to Nevarro to take a breather. Something you hadn’t gotten since before you’d gotten married, having defeated a Krayt Dragon within the same week. And you still needed time to properly process the absence of the littlest member of your clan.

His body was desperate for rest as he moved to stand in front of your position on the couch, weary with the work he’d put himself through to keep other thoughts and memories at bay. When you didn’t move, he removed his gloves and placed them on the table beside you.

“Mesh’la, when was the last time you ate?” he asked softly as he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, hoping to bring you out of your trance. He ran the back of his knuckles along your soft cheeks, hooking them under your chin to gently bring your focus up to his face, your eyes glassed over as you processed his question.

“How long ago did you leave?” Dank farrik, not again. He’d had breakfast with you before he’d left, a quick ration pack, telling him you’d make more after he left. This was the third time he’d come home to find that not only did that second helping never come, but neither did lunch or dinner.

“Gar shuk meh kyrayc…” he huffed as he took long strides to reach the kitchen as fast as possible, needing to give your body the proper fuel to continue functioning.

“You’re no use dead…” you translated, having been learning and teaching yourself the language during your travels in an attempt to relate closer with the Mandalorians you would meet with. This was where the holopad had first come in. “What do you mean?” While you had done a remarkable job in learning the literal aspects of the language, you were still frustrated and how far behind you still seemed to be since Mando’a was very figurative, few literal translations ever properly expressing the meaning of their statement.

“It means you’re working yourself to death. That you need to rest, and properly take care of yourself,” he explained pointedly, returning with a rehydrated ration pack. Not his ideal meal for this situation, but he knew you’d be able to eat it, and that was more important right now. “Give me the holopad so you can eat something.”

“No, I can eat while I read,” you argued, holding the pad in one hand while you opened up your palm for him to deposit the container.

“Cyar’ika please, you’ve been looking at that thing all day.” He set the food on the table just to the side of you, bracing himself on the back of the couch as he leaned in close to try to get through to you. “You’ve been working so hard, it’s time for a break.”

“Nu draar, Din,” you grumbled, using a Mando’a phrase that expressed a very hard no. You were too damn smart for your own good… He wanted to be proud of you for your progress, but he was busy trying to break through your stubborn determination to celebrate the small victory.

"You're not eating unless I sit down and eat with you, you haven't been sleeping. Don't think I don't notice that you don't move between the time I'm asleep and the time I get up,” he reminded, trying to be both stern and gentle to express just how worried about you he was. “Nothing you’re going to find on that holopad is worth all of this!”

"Okay, and then what? I put the holo pad down and hear criticism through one ear, skepticism in the other… And then when my head hits the pillow at night the only thing I can think of is him.” With your last sentence your voice broke, the emotion you seemed to be hiding behind endless nights of research and work finally breaking through. Your eyes started well up in tears as they came overwhelmingly fast, and he could feel his own do the same. “I know giving him to the Jedi was the best thing for him, I do… but I just want him back. My body wakes up in the night to cries that aren't there. My arms feel empty, and there’s a hole in my chest where he should be.”

Your body shook with the tears that had welled up inside of you for too long, and it took Din a moment to realize he’d frozen in place, wrapped in his own grief. It was one you shared, and one you handled in different ways; coping mechanisms more similar than you realized, throwing yourselves into work to distract you from the pain. But Din had someone to take care of, he had you, his beloved riduur. He played the big strong bounty hunter, the provider, as he always did. With his covert, with you, with your clan of three….

But you had been left with empty arms as your heart struggled to heal the gaping hole Grogu had managed to weasel himself into. He’d had you wrapped around his finger within moments, Din having been much the same. But your recovery was not in caring for someone new. You’d holed yourself away and worked yourself to death to numb the constant ache.

Din gently took the holo pad from your hand and set it aside so he could take your hands in his. He sat on the small couch beside you, pulling you into his lap and resting your hands around his neck before lifting his hands up to the rim of his helmet. Your breath caught when his helmet had been placed to the side, always quick to admire your husbands’ beautiful features when you were given the chance.

His warm brown eyes were watery just like yours, not the first of his tears shed over the loss. His brows were raised in sympathy as he looked at you, soft lips in a pout as one of his hands cupped your face in his palm to caress your cheek with his thumb.

“Almost every night since he’s been gone, there’s been this strange pull. It- I don’t know how to describe it, but there’s this feeling that just washes over me; it eases my mind, I know he’s safe, that he’s taken care of,” Din tried to explain, your turn to sort of freeze as you listened. “I don’t know how his powers work… but it’s him. It feels like Grogu.”

“How do you know?” you whispered, fearful your voice would break with any more strain. Din took a moment to look at you as he sorted through the thoughts in his head, the strange sense that would wake him in the night, and the different feelings they invoked in him.

“He misses you… just as much as you miss him.” He’d barely been able to finish before his voice began to betray him, something he’d only struggled with as of late, usually able to keep his cool exterior intact when he desired.

You had let his words linger in the air for a few moments, letting them settle before your body was wracked with a heartbreaking sob, doubling over to curl into Din’s body, your face nestled in the crook of his neck while your arms could do nothing more than hang onto his chest plate. He stroked your back comfortingly as tears fell down his face, your sobs muffled into the flight suit still underneath his armor.

The two of you stated that way for a very long amount of time, clinging onto your clan of two as the complicated emotions course through your bodies. After long enough though, Din had made sure you were hydrated, keeping you tucked up into him for comfort as you slowly got yourself through the ration pack, adamant in your need for basic personal care.

It was the first night in a long time that you had settled into bed next to your husband, both in soft leisurewear as you relaxed into the pillows. Though it came with its own struggles, a slow stream of tears across your cheek as you fell asleep on Din’s shoulder, experiencing Grogu’s pull for the first time.

He’s safe, he’s cared for… but he misses you, his buirs, every single day.

...

Join the Taglist!

Taglist: @deceiverofgodss @janebby @lam-ila @dmward13 @weinersolider @detectivecarisi-1 @michalkal ​​@hypnoash

Din Djarin: @spideysimpossiblegirl @cats-are-a-girls-bestfriend @gracesmusings @stardust-galaxies

[rottingfern]

WIP WEDNESDAY WRITING CHALLENGE

It’s WIP Wednesday: time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants. The goal is to encourage each other to break down barriers that keep us from creating.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so all players can find you in the notes), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; NOT titles, document names.

Post a snippet from one of them. The snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any in the last 7  days, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. (Make sure your asks are open!) You must then write 3 sentences in that file  and respond to the ask with the three sentences you wrote.

FINALLY, please send asks to 3 or more people who have reblogged this post! The game only works if everyone is encouraging everyone -  let’s strengthen our community!

That’s it! I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Writing Challenge snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

If you'd like to be tagged next week, let me know!

I'll start, under the cut:

My WIPS: - rainy ghost - threesome fic - 7hrs or 45mins - brutus in a birdcage - sleep paralysis vamp ------------------------------------

Noah loves how easy it is to play Lee until he gets exactly what he wants. They’re a sucker for positions, situations like these where they can’t wriggle free, where they’re forced to contend with his demanding mouth and hands and teeth; where they’re trapped between his hard cock and their own desire - desire that he pulls out like a thread, like an ingrown hair that looks like nothing but comes out long enough to braid - and where it’s easier to just concede to his demands than to flee. They just love playing the helpless maiden, that oh lord whatever can I do but give him what he wants, so I may be free bullshit, and perhaps it’s a bit of a maidenless mindset for him to play into it, but he will always give them what they need in order for them to give him what he wants.

from 7hrs 45mins

----------------------------------------

taglist: @throughwoodsanddirt @the-way-of-words @signs-of-ill-portent @cowpokeomens @meekahy

[borrovved]

warned you p.sh

pairing: tutor!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, but at most suggestive for now

wc: 3k

warnings: mature content, cursing, mentions of erection, mentions of casual sex, y/n saying she’s screwing someone’s dad but she doesn’t lmfao

synopsis: y/n needs to pass calculus, and sunghoon needs to get laid

part 1/???

You were going to your snobby and strict private school, just walking to the beat of Sunmi blasting in your headphones. The pigtails got in the way of the headphones but you made it work. You were aiming for the cutesy innocent look today, regardless of if your whole grade thought you were some harlot. You’d rather call yourself a femme fatale, but what you’re really trying to reclaim as a raging bratty feminist is a bimbo.

Bimbos definitely need to keep their head up high with confidence, but seeing the latest AP calculus quiz on your desk with its 37% marked in red severely irked you in that it made you feel dumb, and not the good kind, the very small and insignificant kind. Bimbos don’t like feeling like that. You twirled your pigtail in your hand and tried to keep a neutral expression, holding in the heavy sigh you so badly need to exhale out. That’s when you heard it.

“How did she manage to score that low?” someone snickered.

“All that time spent on her back and not at a desk really paid off.” another person snickered. You really wanted to say you’ve actually got railed by their dad on his desk and that you’re quite adaptable on where you do it, but you didn’t wake up and choose violence today...and plus the teacher would’ve sent you to the office. Giving them attention would just fuel the fire that you can’t put out when you’re up against slut shaming vermin when you’re only a team of one. The bell rang, signaling your next class and before you were able to stand up and go, you were asked to stay for a few minutes afterwards along with someone else. That someone else being Park Sunghoon. You and Sunghoon walked to the desk of your teacher and stood before her.

“Now Y/N, I know that you haven’t been doing well in class so I decided to pair you up with Sunghoon as your tutor. I feel as though you would have great improvement after a few study sessions, considering big chapters are coming up to wrap up the semester, and now is the best time more than ever to get some aid that I can’t provide.” You peek over to Sunghoon and he glances at you briefly before looking back at the teacher.

“Is this mandatory?” you ask.

“If you want to pass this class, I strongly recommend that you let him help you. An alternative explanation could help.” You really had no other choice but to nod your head yes and go along with it.

“Good. Now that both of you are informed, hurry along before you’re late to your next class.” After both of you scurry out of the room, you walk ahead to your next class and feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Sunghoon, but you already knew that.” he says awkwardly while he hands you a post it note in neat handwriting. You eye it, then look up.

“You’re giving me your number?” you ask. He nods.

“Texting is the most efficient way to communicate with me since I have ice skating practice and student council related things to do.” he iterates. Before you even say a word, Sunghoon is already off to his next class, but you don’t miss the way he turns around to wave at you and yells “Text me!” in the hallway. You’ve gotten many stares before, from the way you carry yourself and from the way you purposely pull your uniform skirt higher because you think it would look best as a mini skirt, but this time, you heard whispers.

“Why is he talking to her?”

“Must be doing charity work.”

You smile. You can’t wait to tell your best friend Sunoo what just happened at lunch.

-

“The ice prince is doing what now?” Sunoo says with fruit gummies in his mouth.

“He’s helping me with calculus. And gave me his number.” you say while grabbing for a piece of candy to which Sunoo lets you grab a few.

“So…what’s the plan here?” Sunoo says with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll text him right now and have some fun.”

“You whore! What do you mean have some fun?” Sunoo asked not subtly with his booming voice.

You roll your eyes. “You know the drill. I think he’s an easy target. I’ll be my cute charming self and see what happens.”

“You mean you’ll be a man eater and devour that poor innocent boy whole?” 

“You know me so well.” you say, grinning ear to ear. You whip out your phone and compose a text.

You: Hey Sunghoon, it’s Y/N, are you free after school today?

Unknown: Hey, and yes. Where would you like to study?

You: I’m more comfortable at my house where there’s less distractions. The library is too quiet for me and I like some white noise.

Sunoo peeks over your shoulder and says, “He responds fast.”

You smile, “Right?”

You start typing right away, but notice the three dots before you get to send anything.

Unknown: Sounds good, I’ll meet you after school :)

Sunoo gasps. “A smiley? A smiley!” You giggle at his reaction.

“It’s just an emoticon silly.” you say.

“It’s going to be water droplets and eggplants soon though.” Sunoo said in a sing song voice. You can’t help but laugh at your easily giddy best friend. You had big, big plans to get your prey, and you were going to have your fun in the process of passing calculus while you’re at it.

-

English literature wasn’t the most fun class in the world with talking about MacBeth and all, however, the fun part was daydreaming about Sunghoon. You have fancied the boy for the longest time casually but thought he was a little too vanilla for you. And you don’t like admitting it, a little too good for you with being a smart hardworking boy with his head on steady shoulders while yours just bobbled to whatever. Anyhow, you needed danger. A little spice, and everything delectably nice. He didn’t seem the type to be rough enough.

He was however tall, lean, and achingly adorable. Handsomely crafted, so soft spoken, and knew when to shut up unlike every boy you’ve slept with thus far. He’s a nice target. 

The bell rang, and you were quite surprised to see Sunghoon standing by your locker while you’re on your way there.

“Sunghoon!” you say cheerfully, making sure there was a bounce in your step, very glad you’re not wearing a bra today. For some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working today at school so you used this as an excuse to unbutton a few buttons earlier on your white crisp button up. You can see very clearly Sunghoon gulp and you can’t help but do your eye smile at this, and he does a soft grin in return.

“How did you figure out where my locker was?” you say as you tilt your head. Sunghoon couldn’t help but think the simple gesture of a head tilt was so charming. 

He shrugs. “I was going to text you but I knew you would be in class, so I looked at some documents to find out which locker it was. You know, student council perks.” 

“Ah.”

“Please don’t find it creepy.”

“I won’t, you dork.” You bend over to reach your locker since it was on the bottom row. Sunghoon stepped aside to let you open your locker, and his breath hitches in his throat. Seeing the back of your thighs in a skirt that was hiked up higher than it was supposed to was bewitching. He felt like he was in a trance and lingered his eyes on your legs for quite a while. Your skirt was just at the edge of the curvature of your ass, leaving some to the imagination but not much. You knew exactly what you were doing. You had many cheap tricks up your sleeve, and you were going to use them to your advantage. You could practically feel his gaze on you and you can’t help but smirk as you grab your calculus textbook along with your pencil bag, still bent over taking your time putting the items in your backpack. Sunghoon knows he has to stop staring or otherwise this won’t look good for him.

“Ready to go?” you say with a smile. It takes a moment for him to process what just happened and he’s all the while wondering how did your legs not hurt when you didn’t crouch to the ground all the way.

“Of course.”

-

The walk to your home was pleasant, you looked down at your shoes often and Sunghoon mapped out what sections you two were to go over in the textbook, including the homework that was assigned today. You asked him how his classes went and he responded after pausing to mull over his thoughts.

“It’s okay. Nothing exciting happened other than right now.” he says, looking at you while giving you his undivided attention. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Sunghoon. His soft looking hair that frames his face nicely and the way he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform slacks make him look so boyishly handsome and breathtaking.

It takes a moment for you to respond. “What about right now is so exciting?”

He gently smiles and looks away from you. “I don’t tutor people often. Every once in a while I get asked to help students about a few things but never really spend enough time with them to consider it tutoring. And the change of pace on how I manage my time is much needed. I don’t interact with different people often, so this is...nice.”

Your heart races as the clouds take over the blue sky slowly. You notice just how pretty the cute moles on his face are as your gaze lingers on them for a bit. He does that stupid charming smile that makes you giddy and you blush, picking up the pace. You start turning while walking backwards just to give him your undivided attention.

“We should walk faster, Sunghoon. It might start drizzling.”

-

Both of you entered your home and took your shoes off at the front door. Sunghoon took a quick glance at your home, to which he said “this is a cozy house.” You tell him your bedroom is the coziest spot in the house, and let him trail behind you as you go up the stairs, and he doesn’t miss the way your pretty and dainty hand smooths over the railing as you walk up. Entering your room, he noticed the pink canopy bed right away, and the pink heart shaped pillow on it. There were so many details in just one spot, with the floral comforter and lights attached to the tulle. It was pretty and graceful. Light and airy. Soft.

“You can sit on the bed. Let me get changed out of this uniform, it’s so hot in this blazer.” you say as you start to strip in front of your closet, looking away from Sunghoon. Now, Sunghoon doesn’t see himself as a pervert, so therefore, when he noticed you unbuttoning your white button up and could only see the smoothness of your back and notice there was no bra in sight, his cheeks flushed. He quickly turned the other cheek and looked anywhere else but you. Unfortunately, perhaps fortunately, you had a full length mirror with fake pink roses running along its sides across your room. Sunghoon tried really, really hard to look at the curve of the pink petals and not at the curve of your breasts when you turned to the side slightly, but he failed so horribly. He could see himself and his cheeks were beet red. The bulge in his pants was so noticeable too. He quickly placed his backpack on his lap and winced at how heavy it was against him. Why did that kinda feel good?

You turn around wearing your school uniform skirt still but this time with a bright red crop top and of course, no bra. Sunghoon is dying and he can’t help but stare at how prominent your nipples are through the thin material. You take the pigtails down and he loves the way your hair cascades down your shoulders once it’s out of its confines of a scrunchie. He blinks once, twice, many times. Maybe if he sees only the back of his eyelids long enough he will stop picturing you naked. It doesn’t work, and you just stand with your hands on your hips and a lilt to your voice.

“Are you thirsty?” you say sweetly, knowing your tricks are working.

“Uh, y-yeah. Do you have water? Can I have water please?” Sunghoon is so precious.

“Of course you can.”

-

You really are a chintzy whore at best. Your excuse for not sitting at the desk of your room to study was that there was only one comfy study chair, and that you didn’t feel like bringing the dining room chair upstairs. That’s understandable, right? You could’ve however used the chair at your vanity, but that’s just a padded stool with no back to it. Wouldn’t want you or Sunghoon to forget and lean back too far and fall to your doom. So you told Sunghoon that you would rather study in your bed.

You played a little playlist in the background, something mellow and soft and not too distracting. Every once in a while Sunghoon will ask what song it is, and you respond with a chipper in your voice.

“Oh, this one is Sex and Sadness by Madi Sipes and the Painted Blue!”

“That’s one hell of a title.” he chuckles.

“It sure is. The lyrics are so...pretty? I can’t put it into words. The part where it talks about ‘stained glass loved lace’ gets me every time. And ‘whispering words into the singer’s skin.’ It’s romantic.” Sunghoon notices how there’s a certain dazzling feature in your eyes as you talk about the song. He wants to stare in your eyes, but alas you have to finish this one problem. Sunghoon prioritizes responsibilities over such silly, frivolous things that only he notices.

“So tell me how you’re going to solve this problem.” Sunghoon says swiftly while grabbing the glass of water on your nightstand.

You stare at the problem and try your best to concentrate. You really do. But you can’t help the way Sunghoon’s hand looks lazily placed on his thigh. Without much thought, you trace a finger on the back of his hand and say, “Your hands are so veiny.”

“Y/N.”

“And big.”

Well that’s a first, Sunghoon thinks. He knows he’a good looking, a bunch of girls swoon over him at school and at the rink all the time. The most common compliment he gets is on his eyes, and maybe hair, but not on his hands of all things. You’re fascinated by them, and you won’t stop tracing along the veins. Your touch sets his skin ablaze, and it doesn’t seem like you’re finishing this problem any time soon.

“Let’s take a break. I think you’re getting distracted because your brain is all fried.” Sunghoon says softly, still letting you continue playing with his hand.

“I’m getting distracted because I have a pretty boy in my bed.” you giggle. You finally look up and see how pink his cheeks are from blushing.

He starts to stammer “You’re the one that wants to study in your bed!” His voice is a little pitched and you can’t contain your laughs. 

“Do you want to move to the desk then?” you ask.

He shakes his head and mumbles a “no.” A few moments pass and you almost didn’t hear what he says next because it’s under his breath.

“I’ve never been called pretty before.”

“Gasp.” you say, lightheartedly.

“No but like, I’ve been called handsome, smart, a little weird, but not pretty.” Sunghoon replies. A moment of silence passed, and you started to ponder.

“There’s a song called Pretty Boy in my playlist somewhere.”

You go over to your laptop and click on The Neighbourhood song. You sway your hips gently and get lost into the music. Sunghoon just gazes at you as you move along to the steady pulse of the music and let the melodies feel you instead of the other way around. You do a little twirl and waltze your way to your bed, grabbing his hand.

“Dance with me.”

He obliged, wordlessly.

He takes in the words of the lyrics and closes his eyes. If he can’t see how close he is to you right now, it feels less real. It feels less scary. Not that you’re scary, Sunghoon doesn’t think girls with pink heart shaped pillows are scary. What’s scary is you laughing at his boner because he hasn’t been this close to a girl before since a random winter formal he had in grade school. The girl wasn’t all that nice since she dipped to dance with his friend. You’re much softer and nice. More delicate. You even smell nicer. God, your little hands enclosed together behind his neck and his big hands on your waist feels too good to be true. He can feel your gaze on him.

“Sunghoon, open your eyes.” He does, and his breath hitches and you look down, because you definitely feel something poking you and it wasn’t there before.

“I have to go, I have a curfew and it’s getting late, I’ll walk myself out.”

“Sunghoon I can at least walk you down-“

“No, seriously. I can go by myself. Thank you though.”

He’s so wide eyed and his cheeks are so rosy and he dashes away like his life depends on it. And you didn’t even get to kiss him.

[3seven-gambler]

#⌁꒰Shuichi, Hɑjime, Gundhɑm, Fuγuhiko, ɑnd Kɑito with ɑ GN!S/O who gentlγ bites the boγs when theγ’ɾe upset with them꒱

⋆ word count: 2463 ⋆ genre: slight angst and fluff

࿐♡Ꮪꮋꮜꮖꮯꮋꮖ Ꮪꭺꮖꮋꭺꭱꭺ:

⋆ Shuichi was contacted by the police detective department. They’ve heard about the skills that he had, so they decided to call the Ultimate Detective for help.

⋆ Because of that, you haven’t been able to talk to him a lot.

⋆ When you called him, he usually responded only with “hms” and “ok”.

⋆ You were getting tired of this.

⋆ You decided to go to his house without telling him.

⋆ When you arrived, you knocked on the door and waited a minute for him to respond.

⋆ When Shuichi opened the door, with a sleepy but rush tone voice he said -“Thank you so much for coming detec…tive…”. He was surprised, he didn’t expect you at all.

⋆ -“S-S/O? what are you doing here?”

⋆ -“What I’m doing here, you ask? That’s the first thing you’re going to say to me after two weeks in which you haven’t seen me?” you said with an angry tone in your voice and while walking inside his house.

⋆ -“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I’m just surprised. You didn’t told me that you were coming”.

⋆ You were about to answer when you notice how messy his living room was. There were lots of different papers, documents and coffee cups in the table; there was a white board with pictures and words on it, along with some lines connecting all the stuff there. Books and other materials could be distinguished on the floor, stairs and sofa as well.

⋆ -“Oh.. so you’ve been doing this?” you said more quiet than before.

⋆ -“Y-yes. The investigation department of the police called me for some help, and it’s a very hard case. The good new is that I think I’m about to ending it” he said with his typical quiet voice while hugging you.

⋆ You turned around and faced Shuichi, accepting his hug and bitting his shoulder.

⋆ He didn’t say anything about it, because he was kinda used to it.

⋆ The two of you settle things down and you stayed in his house for helping him with some little things of the case, with doing some real food for both of you and, of course, lots of love.

࿐♡Ꮋꭺꭻꮖꮇꭼ Ꮋꮖɴꭺꭲꭺ:

⋆ Finals were getting closer and closer.

⋆ That’s why, unlike months before were Hajime could do his homework and spend time with you, he was studying 25/7.

⋆ You knew he was busy, but he didn’t even respond to a single text.

⋆ One day, you got tired of his attitude, so you called him several times.

⋆ But he didn’t answered.

⋆ You were getting very angry and sad at the same time, why he can just pick the phone for one minute?

⋆ You decided to go for a walk to a park near your house. You always liked that place because of the big lake in the middle and for the variaty of trees and animals.

⋆ You walked for about 15 minutes.

⋆ You were too deep in your thoughts, because you didn’t notice that a well know brown haired boy was in front of you.

⋆ -“S/O? S/O!” he said to you.

⋆ -“Uh?… H-Hajime?!” you said happily, but then your angry expresion came back. -“HAJIME HINATA WHY DIDN’T YOU CALLED ME OR TEXT ME BACK? YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS?” you said screaming, almost crying.

⋆ -“S/O please calm down!” he grabbed you and pull you into a hug, a very tight one. -“Listen, I’m very very sorry S/O. It wasn’t my intention to ignore you, I’ve just been very busy with all the finals that I haven’t been using my phone. Please forgive me, I’ll make up to you, I promise”.

⋆ -“Y-you do?”

⋆ -“Yes, I do S/O”

⋆ You gave him a big smile and then you grabbed his arm and bitted him.

⋆ -“H-hey!”

⋆ -“Sorry, that’s a why for saying that I forgive you”

⋆ Hajime wasn’t that used on getting bited, but he loved it.

⋆ After that, the two of you walked to a coffee store and expend the rest of the day together.

࿐♡Ꮐꮜɴꭰꮋꭺꮇ ��ꭺɴꭺꮶꭺ:

⋆ It was a sunny day when you and Gundham were on a date.

⋆ It wasn’t too much, just the two of you helping on a rescue refugee.

⋆ There were lots of different animals, snakes, bears, penguins, dogs, and so on.

⋆ Both of you were on the hamster area, he was teaching you some things about them, so you could then get practice with the Dark Devas.

⋆ Suddenly, you heard a scream, coming from the nearest area, the Snake area.

⋆ You and Gundham runed and you found one of the volunteers on the floor with a venomous snake almost biting him.

⋆ -“Stop there powerful beast! you won’t be able to fight the great Gundham Tanaka!”

⋆ The snake suddenly stopped attacking the boy and went over where Gundham was.

⋆ He grabbed it and put it again in the little cage.

⋆ -“Wow! that was quiet unique mister Tanaka” said the woman who was in charge of the refugee. -“Would you be interested in working with us? Your help would be very useful.”

⋆ -“Of course you need the great Overlord of Ice! Then, if you really need my help I might accept, what do you say, my dark companion?”

⋆ -“Absolutely, yes! You should accept Gundham, it would be a nice experience for you!” you said very happy, you knew he wanted to accept.

⋆ -“Then is settle, you can start on Monday at 8 AM!” said the woman “Now I must go, thank you so much for your help today” she said while walking towards the exit.

⋆ After that day, you haven’t been able to spend any time with Gundham.

⋆ You knew that he was very bussy, so you didn’t call him or text him.

⋆ That continue like a month and a half. You had only talked to him once by phone and a little by message.

⋆ You decided to go and wait outside the refugee for him.

⋆You waited for about 15 minutes, you were lost in your thoughts, when you felt something walking in your arm.

⋆ You looked at it and you saw Sun-D walking up to your head.

⋆ -“Hey there you little one, how are you?” you said to him.

⋆ -“It seems that my powerfuls Devas missed you, my dark companion”

⋆ You raised your head and saw Gundham smiling at you, while he approached you.

⋆ When he was besides you, you grabbed him and you bited him on his neck.

⋆ He looked at you a little confused without knowing what to do.

⋆ -“Sorry, I was a little upset because I haven’t seen you for a while” you said shyly.

⋆ He looked at you with soft eyes.

⋆ -“It is alright my love” he grabbed your chin and gave you a small kiss on your lips -”Now come with me, I shall compensate you for all the bad things that I did to you”

⋆ -“I-it’s ok, Gundham, the important thin’s that we’re together now”.

⋆ You grabbed his hand and both of you walked while the sun started to disappear in the horizon, walking in a nice silence, enjoying each other company.

࿐♡Fꮜꭹꮜꮋꮖꮶꮻ Ꮶꮜꮓꮜꭱꭹꮜ:

⋆ Lately, Fuyuhiko has been very busy with all the work that carries for being a Yakuza.

⋆ You usually went to his house for visiting him, but the past few weeks you barely could see him.

⋆ Today you went to his house, like any other day. Peko received you and she guided you to your boyfriend’s office.

⋆ You knocked on his door and you heared a -“It’s open!” from inside.

⋆ -“Hi Fuyu~”

⋆ -“Oh, S/O, hi. You need something?” he said without looking at you.

⋆ -“Uhm, well I was thinking that maybe you could come with me to buy some clothes, you know that I like to hear your opinion” you gave him a shy smile.

⋆ Fuyuhiko stopped writing and looked at you -“Sorry S/O, but I’m busy as fucking hell, the clan needs me right now, maybe next time. You can go with Peko if you want”.

⋆ -“O-ok Fuyu, see you later”

⋆ He murmurated a bye and you went out of his office. You told Peko what happend and she happily accepted the invitation.

⋆ The two of you expend the rest of the day buying stuff and having a good time.

⋆ You went again to Fuyuhiko’s house at the evening, you hoped that maybe he was taking a break for all of his work.

⋆ You and Peko walked to where his office was. Peko took a sit on her desk and you knocked again on the door. You heared an angry voice screaming -“come in!” from the inside.

⋆ -“H-hello my love, how are you?”

⋆ -“How am I? how do you think I am?” he asked angrily.

⋆ -“I guess that you’re tired for all of your work”

⋆ -“Oh wow, you finally think for once S/O” he said sarcastically.

⋆ -“H-hey, what’s wrong with you?”

⋆ -“I’m just trying to do my fucking job but you keep interrumpting me, you dumb bitch!” he finally screamed, while hitting his desk.

⋆ You looked at him, with your eyes full of tears. He notice what he had done and he inmediatly regret it.

⋆ -“W-wait I didn’t mean to…”

⋆ -“No you know what, you stay here and finish your work, I’m going home!” you said now crying. You closed the door very hard, almost breaking it. You heared Fuyuhiko calling your name but you were feeling just like trash.

⋆ After that scene, you’ve been ignoring Fuyuhiko for about a week.

⋆ You didn’t respond his messeges, his calls, or even the door. You only talked a bit to Peko, but only because she was your friend.

⋆ One day, Peko came to your house.

⋆ You opened the door, expecting to also see your boyfriend, but it was only her on the door.

⋆ She came in and told you how sad Fuyuhiko was, he wasn’t doing properly his job and he was just a mess in general.

⋆ After 10 minutes of talking, you decided to go and visit him.

⋆ You waited outside his office and Peko announced your visit to Fuyuhiko.

⋆ She quickly came out from his office and told you to come in.

⋆ You walk inside your boyfriend’s office and stay there in quiet.

⋆ Fuyuhiko looked at you straight into your eyes.

⋆ -“S-S/O hi”

⋆ -“Hi…” you said a little bit uncomfortable, but you walked by Fuyuhiko’s side.

⋆ When you were by his side, Fuyuhiko grabbed you by your waist and he sat you on his lap, while he hugged you.

⋆ -“I’m so so sorry for everything S/O it wasn’t  my intention, I was just stressed as fuck and I take my anger out with you and I promise that I’m never doing it again, but please forgive me” he looked like he was about to cry.

⋆You grabbed Fuyuhiko’s face and you wipped out his little tears.

⋆ -“Hey don’t cry. I forgive you Fuyu, but, please, don’t do that again”.

⋆ You hugged him back and you hide your face on his neck.

⋆ Taking the oportunity, you bitted a little hard his ear.

⋆ Fuyuhiko jumped a little from the unexpected bite, and looked at you waiting for you to say something.

⋆ -“D-don’t look at me like that, you deserve it…”

⋆ -“Yeah, I deserved worst I must admit”.

⋆ You now gave him a pasionate kiss on his lips.

⋆ -“Shut up you baby boy”.

⋆ He was about to fight back but he just left a sight and hugged you tighter than before.

⋆ You then went to have a nice dinner on your favorite restaurant and the next day, he took you to your favorite store to buy things with him.

࿐♡Ꮶꭺꮖꭲꮻ Ꮇꮻꮇꮻꭲꭺ:

⋆ One word, training.

⋆ Astronaut training was just too much for you.

⋆ And you started to hate it when your boyfriend, Kaito, had to go on a astronaut training camp.

⋆ I mean, you were happy because Kaito was super excited about it, but you knew that you weren’t going to expend any time with him for the next months, and that maybe you could barely talk to him.

⋆ The good thing was that when he was there, he called you every day, at least for five minutes.

⋆ But he then stopped calling, and he only texted you.

⋆ And then he stopped texting you.

⋆ You didn’t want to interfere in his training, you knew that his dream is to go one day to space, but you really missed him.

⋆This kept this way for a while.

⋆ One day, you were reading your favorite book, when your phone started to sound.

⋆ You saw that the number wasn’t in your contacts.

⋆You normally didn’t answer that kind of calls, but something told you to answer, so you did.

⋆ -“Hello?”

⋆ -“S/O! Is that you?!” a man voice said.

⋆ -“Uhm… yes? W-who is this?”

⋆ -“I’m Kaito! your boyfriend? Oh… don’t tell me that you forget me already? I-It’s me S/O! Kaito Mom…”

⋆ -“Kaito stop, of course I remember you silly! Are you still at the camp? Why did you stop calling me and texting me? I was super worried and sad a-and… and angry!”

⋆ -“I-I’m sorry S/O honey, it wasn’t my intention, I just, uhm, kinda broke my phone during training… and I didn’t remember your phone number, b-but I did now! that’s why I’m calling you from another phone!”

⋆ You didn’t knew if you wanted to laugh or scream at him, so you did both.

⋆ -“HAHAHAHAHA HOW’S THAT YOU WROKE YOUR PHONE, ARE YOU SERIOUS KAITO?!”

⋆ -“H-hey S/O calm down a little…” he said a little worried.

⋆ -“Hahahahahaha y-yes sorry I just… hahaha f-forget it. Anyways, how are you?”

⋆ -“I’m fine! I’ll get home in two days, wait for me S/O! I’ve to go, my recess time’s up, see you later my love!”

⋆ You were now happy and relief that he was safe, and that he was coming home soon.

⋆You prepared him a nice welcome in your shared house.

⋆ You made all of his favorite food and invited his friends.

⋆ When he came home, he opened the door and he felt someone hugging him, and then he felt a painful sensation in his arm, something like a bite.

⋆ He looked down and saw you.

⋆ -“S-S/O! that hurts!

⋆ -“Sorry, but that’s for breaking your phone and because you don’t know my phone number”.

⋆ -“Y-yeah- I’m sorry for that, b-but I remembered it, didn’t I?

⋆ -“Yeah whatever, come here!” you grabbed him by his arm and you guide him to the living room, and everyone screamed “Welcome back!”

⋆ You could see how excited and happy Kaito was.

⋆ Both of you expent a fun time with all of your friends and then they had to go.

⋆ After everyone was gone, Kaito grabbed you by your waist and he kissed you passionately.

⋆ -“You’ve no idea of how much I missed you”

⋆ -“I missed you too Kaito”

⋆ You spent the rest of the night laying on your shared bed talking about how much you love each other and talking about how was Kaito’s camp.

❥ 𝖱𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽. || 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖱𝖤𝖯𝖮𝖲𝖳/𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖭𝖲𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖤.

[loousir]

[Elf] Royal Secrets

Secret Elf King x Royal Second Hand Reader

Faelynn

Warnings: Smoochin, tavern talks, time skips, uhh

Masterlist

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You ran and hand through your hair with a sigh, sitting down on the bar chair with a soft 'plop'. The bartender looked to you with a fond and familiar smile. "Rough day again (Y/n)?" He asked while pulling out a glass from one of the cabinets. "I sometimes think my days will get better but I guess not. He is not fun to deal with... Especially when he's in a bad mood." The bartender smiled again and set a drink down in front of you.

"Well, just relax for tonight. You don't have any tasks for tomorrow do you?" You took a sip of the drink and smiled softly before that disappeared. "No, I don't. But I've got an important meeting day after tomorrow so I have to spend some time finalizing documents and getting ready for it."

"And by some time you mean the whole day? I get that..." A voice two seats over spoke, making both you and the bartender look to him. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I'm Lynn." You smiled and introduced yourself as well which lead to the bartender walking off and making drinks for a group that had came in.

You and Lynn hit it off instantly. Both of you talked about various things related to your, work, if you will and you never thought you could fall for someone upon first meeting but...

'I just might have...'

"Lynn, I have a question." He hummed as he took a sip from his own drink. "How often do you come here? I've noticed you a few times before but I've never actually heard you talk to anyone." Lynn smiles softly and sets his cup down. "I try to come as often as I have time. And I've not talked to anyone cause their conversations haven't quite caught my attention like yours." You smiled and looked down to your hands that were intertwined around the small cup that you have.

You sighed and glanced at the clock that hung on the wall behind the bar. "Damn, I have to get going." You looked over to Lynn who had looked up to the clock as well.

'Woah, he's an elf? No wonder he's so beautiful.'

You though as you stared at him. He looked back to you and tilted his head slightly. "Are you ok (Y/n)?" His question had pulled you from your thoughts, making you blush and chuckle. "Yes, sorry. Is there a possibility I could see you again?" Lynn nods. "I'll be available to come pretty often but after this month I won't be able to for a little. It's when things bet busy for me unfortunately." He said with a sad tone and a soft sigh. You smiled and shook your head, slipping off of the chair and walking over to him.

He watched you walk over and grab his hand. You gently kissed his knuckles, keeping eye contact which made him blush slightly. "Til next do we meet Lynn. I look forward to it." You said gently letting his hand linger for a moment before letting him take it back. Lynn smiled and said a soft goodbye as he gently held the hand you kissed as you walked out of the bar.

'What an interesting character...'

•

--- •

The month that Lynn was available seemed to have passed in a flash. The two of you grew much, much closer than I'm sure either of you would've thought. Admittedly, neither of you had met outside of the tavern but, neither minded. This was a place both of you knew and could enjoy. You had been thinking about Lynn frequently. He was talking about something that had happened at his job which made you think.

'What just is his job? Maybe it's similar to mine with the way he talks about things.'

You thought to yourself, zoning out from what Lynn was saying. A soft hand grabbing your own, instantly snapping you from your thoughts. You looked down to his hand, gently grabbing yours. You smiled and held his hand in yours. "Sorry, I was lost in my own head again." You looked over to him to see he wasn't as smiley as you which made your smile fade. "Are you ok Lynn?" He holds on to your hand tighter and pulls it up to his lips, pressing them gently against the back of your hand.

"This may be the last day we get to see eachother for a while." The look you saw in his eyes made you want to cry. He looked so heart broken that he couldn't come see you anymore. "You two can use the spare room upstairs if you need a private place to talk." The bartender said. You looked over to them and nodded. "Thank you," You looked back to Lynn. "Would you like to?" You asked him. He nodded and both of you slipped off the chairs and you lead him to the room.

You flicked on the light and let him step into the room before closing the door behind him. Right as you turned back to him, he connected his lips to yours to which you instantly responded. You gently pressed yourself against him and held onto his hips as his slim fingers caressed your face and hair as if he would never be able to feel them again.

"Lynn," You spoke his name the second the both of you pulled away, both of you panting softly. His bright blue eyes gazed deeply into yours. "I want you to keep coming here, even if I'm not. I'll do what I can to come as often as possible. I wish we could meet at other places but..." Lynn looks away and hesitates heavily on what he was about to say. "It's ok..." You said with a small smile as he looks back to you.

"I'll keep coming. Just don't forget about me."

Lynn smiles as tears well up in his eyes before he collapses into you, hugging you tightly. You hugged him back just as tight. "You're very emotional all of a sudden. Did you have too much to drink?" You joked making him give a few small giggles. He pulled away and wiped his face before looking up to you, smiling. "It's been a very, very long time since I've felt this way and since I've had someone like you in my life." Lynn spoke softly as you navigated both of you over to the bed.

You sat Lynn down first before joining him and wrapping an arm around his waist. "(Y/n)?" You hummed and looked at the reflection of the two of you in the full-body mirror mounted on the wall. Your eyes seemed to have meet and you smiled, making Lynn blush and glance away. "I think we look really good together. Maybe one day we should make it official." Lynn looks up to you with a surprised yet slightly sad and scared look.

"That's up to you though." You said looking down to him with a smile. He didn't say anything but kissed you again, pushing you down on the bed and hovering over top of you. He rested his head on your shoulder and you gently kissed his pointed ears, making him shiver.

That eventually turned into a small makeout session but Lynn pulled away first, having you trail behind slightly not wanting to stop. You glanced at the clock above the door and sighed heavily.

"It seems it's our time to part huh?" You said looking to him as he got off of you. He nodded, which lead you to gently neaten his hair. Lynn leaned into your touch for a moment before taking you hand and kissing it gently, much like you did him when you first met. You smiled and held his hand as you lead him from the room, turning off the light before walking him out to the front doors of the tavern.

Both of you walked down the stone path out to the stables. Lynn always rode a horse to the tavern, which you have also become close with. You leaned in and kissed his lips softly. When both of you pulled away he waved you off and watched as you walked away.

'Til we meet again my dear.'

• --- •

You kept coming back to the tavern, keeping your nightly routine of checking Lynn's seat only to find it empty. You were only slightly disappointed, knowing that he would show up eventually. Your bartender friend smiled and placed a drink down in front of you. "I'm sure you two will meet again soon." He mumbled out before disappearing into the kitchen. You couldn't help but let your gaze linger a moment on the kitchen door, as if his words heald more meaning than you knew.

You spent most of the time thinking about an upcoming meeting you had with the King of the neighboring nation Elfendale. Your "job" is the second hand to the King of your own nation and he had tasked you with speaking to the other King in order to conduct an official alliance and go over some trade stuff. This tavern was on the border to both nations. Half of it was in yours and half was in the other.

The original arrangements were made by you and your neighboring counterpart on how the place would pay taxes and all those fun business things. Before you knew it, your time to leave had come.

'I sure hope this all goes well...'

---

The day finally arrived that you were to go to meet the King of Elfendale. You rode your horse into the town, catching the gazes of many. You had only two guards with you as the three of you rode up to the castle gates. The guards stopped you and asked to state your business. "(Y/n) (L/n), second hand to King Hervé. I'm here on official business." One guard looked to a list before nodding to the other to let the three of you in. Two other guards came and escorted you to put your horse in the royal stables while the other guided your guards to rest while you went in by yourself.

A certain horse in the stables seemed awfully excited to see you, this also caught the guards attention. "Have you met Whinefred before?" You were confused before shaking your head, playing it off. He nodded and put your horse into a stable before leading you up to the large front doors of the castle.

A man in a robe holding a scroll welcomed you in and walked you to the throne room.

"Attention please!" His voice called out to the room. You hadn't looked up from your satchel as you were looking to make sure if all the documents were there. "We welcome (Y/n) (L/n) to our humble castle. He is here for King Hervé since he was unavailable." You smiled and looked up with your eyes closed. 'He's not unavailable, just lazy.' You thought to yourself.

You finally opened your eyes to see an extraordinary familiar face. You contained the shocked expression on your face as the robed man kept talking and leading you towards the other. "-meet, King Faelynn." You looked over to the robed man and asked him with a hushed tone. "Does he have a twin?" The man shook his head. You looked up to Faelynn, shocked. Faelynn seemed quite content in this moment, happy even.

Faelynn stepped down from his throne and walked over to you. "Let's go discuss these in private." He said, motioning to the satchel who's strap you were clutching onto for dear life. You couldn't say anything but simply nodded.

Faelynn lead you to another large door and the guard who stood next to it, opened it for the both of you. Once the two of you were inside and the doors had closed, Faelynn crashed his lips against yours to which you instantly responded. Your hands found their way to his hips, pulling him closer to you.

"I think I've got some explaining to do." Faelynn said right as you pulled away. You nodded, still shocked. You moved yourself away from him and set the satchel down on the grand table behind both of you. He lead you over to a pair of chairs and had you sit before sitting next to you.

"To start, I'm sorry I didn't say anything. That's been one of the few places I can go and just be myself. I've never liked getting treated like a King but I inherited the throne from my father when I was pretty young so that may have been a reason why."

Faelynn held onto your hand and traced his thumb over your knuckles. "I never thought I would fall in love with someone, let alone someone I had just met in a tavern." He said with a soft chuckle, making you smile. You watched his eyes as he continued to speak. "I had seen you few times prior to that and I guess just listening to you I became, infatuated, and as we had started to chat I realized that I had fallen for you."

You smiled and pulled his hand closer to you, carefully removing the glove that framed his slim fingers nicely. You set the glove on the table and you gently kissed his hand, making him blush. "Faelynn." You spoke his full name out loud, making him get goosebumps. "Its odd saying your full name after calling you Lynn for so long." You said with a small chuckle. Faelynn intertwined his fingers with yours.

"Do you remember how you said we should make it official one day?" Faelynn asked, looking up to your eyes. You watched as he smiled more and kept your eyes looking to his. You felt something rather warm slip onto one of your fingers. "As an official alliance between Elfendale and Chroles. Soon to be King, (Y/n) (L/n), would you be mine?" You stared at the silver band that had been placed onto your finger.

Neither spoke for a moment but you looked up to him and pulled him into a kiss. Faelynn kissed back and interlocked your fingers again. Tears welled in your eyes as the two of you pulled away. "As both a personal benefit and an official alliance, I will be yours." Faelynn giggled and pecked your lips again.

"Let's get these papers figured out so we can start planning our wedding."

---- 2433 Not very proof read, may re-write and separate into parts