#I don't know how long this train will last but I will be a passenger for as long as they go this route and keep that consistency

[theresattrpgforthat]

Thanks so much for doing all this, I love what you do for enjoyers of ttrpgs!!

What I'm looking for is epistolary or long-distance, asynchronous games for multiple players. I know you've done lists of 2-player games that people can play in their own time (writing letters or journal entries back and forth, stating your actions in a message then waiting for the other player, etc) but I was wondering if there were any I could play with 3 or more players with different timezones & schedules at once.

Genre and playstyle are flexible, we love trying new mechanics! I've struggled to find games to fit this myself, so I hope you can have a little more luck. You're awesome for taking these requests and finding so many different games for people!

THEME: Asynch & Epistolary for 3 or More.

Hello friend! First of all, I’m going to send you to my Epistolary (Part 3) post because that was specifically for 3 or more players, as well as my first epistolary post because there were a number there that could also be played with a number of people.

But don't worry, there's more!

Angels of the Railway Stations, by Speak the Sky.

There’s only so much you can do alone, but you’re not alone. There’s only so much that can be done with any one meeting, but life is more than one meeting. As you go through the stages of Arrival, Stopover, and Departure, take notes of everything in the form of a letter to be sent on with the train when it leaves the station. These letters should give your fellow angels more context to help the traveller in need along the way. They’re also your only way to communicate with your colleagues and comrades.

Angels of the Railway Stations is an epistolary game for 2+ players in which you play a liminal community of lonely angels. Help lonely travellers in a world undergoing a great upheaval, then write about what you see and do to pass it on to the next angel down the line.

All of the rules for this game can fit on one page, and require you to rely on other players to determine what each of your passengers need and help them get to where they need to go - on time. Angels of the Railway Station references a game called Black Engines, which does not actually exist, which means that many parts of this game will require your play group to fill in the blanks. That being said, I think Angels of the Railway Station has plenty of potential when it comes to telling emotional stories.

Intersecting Orbits, by Ell Schulman.

For as long as there have been Orbiters, there has been the Interference. Spikes in data that have no business being there, garbled words, ghosts in the machinery. Few people believe truly in the existence of the Interference as an entity.The Interference does not care what they believe.

The planet below is alive. There are deep oceans and high mountains and biomes we do not have names for. There are plants and animals that do not conform to systems we know.

There are people who look up at the stars and wonder who else is out there.There is so much to explore. 

Intersecting Orbits is a game for three players, two of whom play Orbiters sending messages back and forth and one of whom plays the Interference who intercepts those messages and removes words from them. 

Using a deck of cards, the two Orbiters will try to communicate to each-other about something that is going on. Meanwhile, the Interference uses 2d6 to determine how many words of the message they can remove. You can probably use this method either by sending letters to each-other, or by writing e-mails or sending texts, so I think this game is definitely flexible in terms of how quickly you want to send messages to each-other, and how long you want the game to run.

Chronicle, by a.fell.

The world is coming to an end. It has been foretold, and so it shall be. We cannot stop it; we only wait, and observe, and recall.

This is a game to create a chronicle of a world, and to find the world again in the last seconds of its life. The game is different depending on which path you choose to take.

You will not play together. You might not play at the same time, or in the same place. You might not even know each other before you play this game.

When you play The Chronicler, you will play alone, across time, across worlds. There is foretelling that an end is coming. You are here to ensure that your life, your people, and your world, survive. The Witnesses will find your artifacts an unknowable amount of time later. They will observe, they will wonder, they will remember their own lives, and they will know you. The world they know is empty, and soon they, too, will be gone. But they will carry these moments with them.

Chronicle uses a tarot deck (or something similar) as an oracle, and requires some form of map for the Chronicler to add to. The Chronicler will draw from this deck to create the events, artifacts and messages from this world. Most of the Chronicler’s work is done by the time the Witnesses come into play, who will travel across the map, pick up artifacts left behind by the Chronicler, and use their own oracle decks to recall personal memories. Eventually, a cataclysm will fall, and the game will end.

Leaving Cambridge, by Nora Katz.

You were together once, a lifetime ago, in a place called Cambridge. It was a place you held dear—a place that you called home, even if just for a moment. But something strange or sinister happened, and now you are all gone, dispersed across countries, continents, and maybe even worlds. There are stories untold and things unsaid. This is your chance to say them. 

“Leaving Cambridge” is an intimate, asynchronous storytelling game that takes place through letters exchanged between a group of people who have parted ways. Over the course of a real-life calendar year, a group of players write letters to each other, piecing together what happened to them, trying to reconcile their checkered pasts with their current realities. As the letters arrive, this group of people will come to understand each other, and themselves, with more clarity—and, most likely, more questions. 

Leaving Cambridge is a setting-agnostic game, so you can set it at any time period and any technology level, as long as it is possible that all of the players at some point went to Cambridge together.. What remains true is that you were once friends, but you have since grown apart. You will draw from a deck of cards, with red cards reflecting memories you share and black cards representing your emotions. Writing will happen over four seasons, with an inciting reason for you to get back in touch with each-other, and generative prompts that encourage your characters to reveal pieces of themselves the longer that they write.

I’d Also Recommend…

When I Lived Here, by a grumpy little critter.

[neoyi]

Hoo boy, so how long before we get potential discourse on how this comic contradicts the established Crash Bandicoot timeline?

After all, Crash Purple/Spyro Orange had Ripto and Cortex meeting prior to Rumble ever being a spark in Toys for Bob's eyes.

I would say spin-off games in the series are kind of loose in terms of the canonical narrative, but Crash Bandicoot has kind of been an exception to that rule, in that characters first appearing in the forty billion racing spin-offs seem to return (Oxide) with implication that said spin-off happened, or the rest of the games supported extensive cutscenes and an actual plot that it stands to reason that they could all feasibly have happened canonically.

Rumble seem to follow in that; there's no plot to be found within the game, but these comics have served as nice bits of lore for us to chew on. There's not much to hone on, but would I not be a foolish student of Crashology to leave even the shallowest narrative uninterpreted? Unexamined? Left to rot in the sun like that?

I never bought the idea that Crash Bandicoot 4 was meant to be a thorough reboot of the franchise sans the OG Naughty Dog games, because there really wasn't much to contradict that latter games after Crash 4 still couldn't happen. Dingodile joining up with Crash's team (at the least, pragmatically, he seem to be a neutral force here driven by circumstances more than anything) might be the closest cutting off point since he's working for Cortex come Wrath of Cortex (Crash 4 never explains why he quit the ol' mad doctor's group, he just did for some reason), but now that Rumble's out, particularly with this comic, I'm now beginning to wonder if this is the creators' way of essentially wiping the slate as clean as they could and starting the franchise off from scratch.

And I think it needs it.

Oh, for sure, I'd argue it's yet another reworking of the franchise (Crash of the Titans kind of felt like one, even if, as far as I know since I never played it, they don't technically disown the timeline prior to its release) to revitalize and retool the poor series yet again, but this time, there's been a decade long gap - long enough for fans to lament what could have been, what we wished, and eventually, move on from it (well, some of us anyway.)

I was ready to call the franchise dead in the waters by, like, Year 8, wistful that they didn't get the send-off it deserved. Fact of the matter was, the last few games or so have just been a complicated, hot mess. Nobody seem to know what the hell they wanted to do with Crash the moment it fell out of Naughty Dog's hands. Not from lack of trying (and some developers did try), but it lingered around as either a pastiche of the OG game, a wacky-for-the-sake-of-wacky that varied in tolerance with its humor, or a sea of Dreamworkian pop cultural references - it was a mess. It was a HOT. MESS.

THIS comic, however, seem to signify that yes, come Crash 4: It's About Time, the whole ass franchise, after a decade of nothing, whih came after a decade of identity crisis, meant not only is this semi-reboot expected, but is downright necessary.

You could arguably just make A New Crash game that fittingly continues where it left off without acknowledging any of the past games, but with the assumption that it all happened, but ripping off that loaded, blood-chunked bandage for something visibly new, is probably the best this series, at this time, is going to get and ultimately needs.

Cut off the excess and start from where it was at its most simple, then slowly reintroduce the latter Crash elements. It does suck, if you are a fan of the latter-era Crash fans, to essentially be told after CTR that the rest of the games after is potentially no longer canon (Crash 4's announcer during the end credits certainly lampshades it, too.) This comic pretty heavily cements it, but man, it already does it so much better by introducing Ripto back into the Crashverse in just two pages of a comic versus an entire GBA game where he and Cortex... somehow share a universe and just... team up, I guess???

Of course Ripto crashes the party via a portal. Crash and Spyro's worlds are two vastly different places that sharing it together, while not impossible in the right hands, is tonally contradictory. Spyro's world is fantastical whimsy, Crash is sci-fi madness.

And it isn't like latter Crash characters cannot return. Crash 4's ending showed that absolutely CAN be the case.

Guys. GUYS. Nina's still here. Those two awful chicken announcers are still here.

The OG Crash games never really had the deepest stories, with only literal floating heads occasionally spouting the next motive. Having Crash 4 start from there WITH an elaborate narrative is probably the best starting point. There is no reason why any of the others cannot return in new, interesting roles while paying lip service to their older roles.

Setting aside complicated feelings on reboots notwithstanding, Crash Bandicoot really did needed a reset button, and if it means retooling the established canon in a metaphorical Crisis of Infinite Earths way, then so be it.

So yeah, the comic basically told us Crash Purple/Spyro Orange did not happen. And damn it, I think that's for the best.

On a final note, love this panel. For sake of gameplay, you're allowed to pick whichever character you want, but Rumble's lore seem to imply that villains stay on their end while, presumably, the heroes stay on their side. I guess Ripto serves as a third wheel who decided to muck things even further.

Also, I think Brio is saying Spyro's Japanese translated name, which is amazing cuz' anyone with basic Spyro trivia knowledge knows Ripto's name came from how the Japanese letters look when spelling out the purple dragon's name.

[theprettynosferatu]

I mean, it can’t hurt, right? Just… as an experiment. Yes, an experiment! I have been practicing a lot lately, after all. If someone had told me how hard it is to actually edge, to reach that perfect point and just… stop, I’m not sure I would have started doing it. But I AM getting better at it! If he could see me it would be sooo… but I’ll have another session soon, and I want to be able to tell him that I’m doing it, I’m following the program, that I’m doing well in therapy for once, that unlike all those other hacks he made me better…

I’m tired, and I know it’s harder for me to hold back when I’m tired… but at the same time I have to be able to control myself. That’s what he said. It’s all about impulse control or something… and if I fail and go over? No, I can’t be too hard on myself. But at the same time he would be disappointed. I don’t want to imagine that. Not that he ever tells me he is disappointed, but I can tell. I could almost imagine him looking so sad the few times I accidentally came… I need to make him proud. I need to train more. Sure, I have to work tomorrow but one edge, just the one…

Fuck, I love social media. It’s like… the algorithm knows how to push me deeper and deeper… and I feel less alone, knowing there are so many people gooning and edging and encouraging one another. To think I was ashamed of the stuff I liked before! Like, admitting that watching a girl being spanked turned me on would get me red like a tomato. Now… a spanking does nothing for me. I need more, and the screen delivers. It’s so fucking good to see so many good girls, drooling and edging like me and writing on their skins what willing fuckholes they are… The words come to me and I’m muttering them… cunt… useless toy… living cumrag… I’m not sure I can stop myself from mumbling anymore. I watch them smile before getting their stupid mouths fucked by a huge cock, shutting them up and turning them into the useful dolls they are…

Jesus! That was close. I didn’t expect to hit the edge so quickly! My pussy must be more sensitive lately. Makes sense. Two weeks without cumming is a long time… but he looked so proud of me last session… no way I can throw that away for a moment of relief. I’m in control. Not my body. Me. 

Okay, I did it. Time to get some much needed rest.

Fuck…

Turning in bed. My cunt is soaked and it’s insistent, demanding. I have to work tomorrow. I can’t… I put my pillow between my legs. I don’t know why I feel like it will calm my pussy down a bit. I’m making no sense. Fuck, thinking that made me wetter. I’m making no sense. I’m dumb. I’m stupid. I’m just a horny bitch in heat…

My hips move on their own. I’m not entirely awake, not entirely asleep. I’m almost… not there. Like I’m just watching my needy body hump the pillow, like I’m merely a passenger and my stupid, horny body is taking over…

No. No. I’m in control. I won’t cum. I won’t…

That was too close. Much too close. But I did it. I stopped right at the edge. I didn’t cum. 

I was a good girl.

Good girls edge. That’s not something the therapist said. At least I don't think so. I saw it online. But he explained edging to me, so he must want me to be a good girl for him, right? No, that’s silly. He’s a professional. He’s teaching me control. I want to learn from him. I want to be a good girl for him. I want him to…  

It’s two in the morning already. Time slipped by like… like it was soaked by my pussy juices. I like that image. My needy cunt is so permanently wet even time gets slick. I might be going crazy. I need to snap back to reality. I need to focus. Tomorrow I have to work, and I’m already going to be running on like, five hours of sleep.

Well, I’m going to be fucked tomorrow either way, right? Not much difference between five hours of sleep and four. And I do have a few audios saved…

One more edge. That’ll be all.

God, I love how audios make me feel. As soon as I put the headphones on and that low, barely audible pulsing sound comes on, I can feel a tingle snake all over my skin. And her voice… It’s so soft, so gentle, so caring… and so desperate at the same time. I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to her, but it always makes me feel… like she’s holding me. Guiding me. Telling me what I am. What I could be. What I should be.

I know I’m saying the words out loud. I couldn’t stop myself from doing it even if I wanted to anymore. The girl in the audio and me, we are one and the same. I can’t tell where the audio ends and my mind begins. Her words are my words. The only part of me that remains is the watchful eye that’s always alert now, always ready to pounce and stop me from going over the edge.

Edging makes me better. Edging makes me sluttier. Edging makes me prettier. Edging makes me more obedient. Edging makes me a slave to my cunt. Edging makes me better. Edging makes me sluttier…

I can feel him railing me in his office. I can taste his cum on my tongue. I can see the pleasure in his eyes, the way it gives me purpose…

Shit! That fantasy almost got me. I can’t be the only one that thinks about their therapist that way, right? No, no judgment. No shame. That’s what he says, so surely he wouldn’t begrudge me a little kinky fantasy starring him… 

I wonder if I should tell him. Fuck, that would be amazing. To look into his eyes and tell him every detail that my mind conjured up, how I want him to take over my mind, to tell me what to think, what to wear… who to be. 

Twenty past four in the morning. Four-twenty. I should sleep, but come on. Timing’s too good. One joint, one more edge, and that will be it. Weed always makes edging better, anyway. I feel so… happy. I don’t have another word for it. Bubbly. Happy. Slutty. Maybe I should make someone else happy like me… 

I should probably buy like, a mask or something, just to be safe. But I don’t have one now and I want them to see all of me… I want every inch of my body to be porn, to make someone happy… It doesn’t matter who. I need to be useful. I go on the website.

I blame the lack of sleep and the weed. I’m not dumb. I’m… it’s just… good girls are porn. Fuck, that feels good to say. I log on and…

There it is. Of course, first try. A stiff cock. I can’t see the owner’s face, and I don’t care to. I vaguely remember a time when I would have felt disgusted. Now I can’t think at all. Mu pussy clenches in anticipation, and my hand rubs it softly, insistently. We share the moment in perfect peace, masturbating as one, both mindless and entranced by our own bodies…

Suddenly, the fear comes. I want to be useful. I want… I need to make that cock cum. That’s my purpose. That’s all I want to be. But what if I can’t? How can I know exactly what kind of slut this cock wants to cum to? What if I’m not… good enough?

Then, the man starts typing and the fear melts away, replaced by a warm blanket of peace. He tells me what to do. Suddenly, I don’t need to try anymore. I don’t need to think. I don’t need to worry. I don’t need to be anything but an extension of that wonderful cock. I don’t think I even read the words in any meaningful way. They bypass my brain and go straight to my body, and obedience is instantaneous. 

I’m on all fours, stretching my buttcheeks apart, struggling to look at the screen. I want to see it. I want to feel worthy. 

I barely catch myself. Seeing it tense up, hearing his moan, seeing his cock shoot cum for me, just for me… it almost makes me break my edge. I feel… proud. I feel perfect, as if I’ve found the exact corner of the universe that exists just for me to occupy, that wonderful purpose… He ends the video chat quickly. Maybe he’s embarrassed. It only shows me the dangers of cumming. Cumming brings bad thoughts. But edging…

Dawn arrives. I’ve been… away. I’ve become whoever, whatever the person on the other side of the screen needs me to be. I’m fuzzy. I know I’ve called someone daddy and begged him to sneak into my room at night… I know one woman made me spank myself with my hairbrush until I cried, and she came to my tears. I think I danced for a group of older men, but I can’t be sure. Maybe I… fell asleep at some point? I don’t know. Nothing feels real. I don’t feel real. I feel like a beautiful fiction. 

The alarm goes off. I should shower. Have a coffee. Go to work. Be a person.

Sure, I’ll do all those things. I just need one more edge to start the day…

Just one more…

I know I’ll have an amazing therapy session in two days.  

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[wileys-russo]

KCC, “if you think I’m cute when I’m mad I’m about to be gorgeous”, at home or training🫶🫶

forgotten coffee II k.cooney-cross

today was not a good day.

normally you were someone who let issues run away from you like water off a ducks back, who brushed hardships off and continued forward with a smile on your face and optimism on your tongue.

you had to in order to have dated kyra for as long as you had, as everyone loved to remind you had the patience of a saint and you had years of experience in calming down and dealing with the sporadic and often juvenile behaviours she displayed.

the two of you growing up in the youth teams and progressing through the a-league together you'd realised on a team night out you were harboring more than just friendly feelings for her.

never one to shy away from what you want you were the one who made the first move though fearful of rejection. but luckily that rejection never came, and years later you were still going strong.

but today, today was not a good day.

you'd had one of the worst night sleeps you thought possible, waking up what felt like every half an hour with a groan and a huff tossing and turning until finally you'd drift off again only to wake up a few moments later and start the routine over again.

normally kyra would be there to try and help you but she'd spent the last few days helping charli move in and you'd encouraged she spend the night there to really help your friend feel settled and at home.

plus you knew better than anyone how much kyra truly missed her best friend now they weren't both playing in sweden and able to see one another whenever they pleased.

you contemplated calling the girl around three thirty wondering if even the sound of her voice might help but you decided against it, not wanting the interrupt the night you insisted they both have despite how much both girls tried to invite you to come along.

so when your alarm finally went at seven thirty indicating you needed to get up and ready for training you were positively exhausted, miserable and grumpy.

which was obvious to your girlfriend the very moment you stepped outside, the brunette having taken her training things to charli's but offering you a lift she sat in her car in your shared driveway not bothered to go inside as she waited you to come out.

"for fuck sakes!" you threw your head back with a groan as the keys slipped from your hand as you tried to lock up, kicking the door with a grunt as kyra watched on cautiously.

you slung your gym bag over your shoulder grumbling obscenities under your breath as of course because you were already in a foul mood you caught your foot on the edge of the steps and went tumbling down to the ground.

kyra went to unbuckle herself and help you but you were already to your feet, snatching your bag and storming off to the car with a scowl plastered into your features.

"good morning sunshine." the midfielder greeted as you slid into the passenger seat after tossing your bag in the boot. "fuck off." you mumbled with a frown, catching yourself and sighing. "sorry, had the worst night sleep." you apologised, leaning over the console to peck her lips.

"babe why didn't you call me? i can sleepover at char's anytime i would have come home." kyra grabbed your hand, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles with a frown as you buckled in.

"because you deserved a nice night with char i know you missed your little sleepovers. but its fine i just need a fucking coffee!" you exhaled deeply as kyra's eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip as suddenly you noticed the coffee you assumed was yours in the cup holder was not.

"you didn't get me a coffee?" you asked in disbelief as kyra winced. "i assumed you'd make one at home! we can get one on the way?" kyra tried, starting up the engine as you sank deeper into the seat. "we don't have time for that because you're late because you stopped to get a coffee and didn't get me one." you mumbled grumpily, scowl returning as kyra grimaced.

"i'm sorry!" your girlfriend apologized again as you hummed, refusing to look at her. "baby, please i'm really really sorry." her eyes burned into the side of your head as you continued to ignore her.

"babe!" the girl whined, reaching out for you as you pushed her hand away and huffed. "i have never ever gotten a coffee and not at least offered you one, we always get one another a coffee." you finally looked at her though the look in your eyes had kyra breaking it and glancing away.

"babe i really am sorry. i love you?" kyra tried as you hummed, pulling out your phone. "i love you so much?" she tried again with a charming smile, met with even more silence. "you look really cute when you're mad?" kyra poked at you, still met with silence as she gave in and started up the car backing out of the driveway.

"hi lessi." kyra's head whipped toward you at a red light as you held your phone to your ear. "have you grabbed coffee yet?" you questioned hopefully, knowing the blonde lived a lot closer to colney than you and kyra did.

"oh my god yes please, kyra doesn't care about me and my needs anymore." you shot her a pointed look as she gasped. "less she's lying!" the midfielder yelled as you rolled your eyes. "i love you! and i owe you, thanks less." you blew her a kiss and hung up the phone.

"so you'll tell less you love her but not me!" kyra scoffed as you shrugged, head buried in your phone still grumpy, ignoring all of her attempts at conversation as she gave up with a groan and turned the music up louder instead.

you sighed in relief seeing alessia, vic and emily waiting around for you, a coffee held securely in alessia's hand which you knew had your name on it, the three girls hovering near where kyra always parked in waiting.

barely putting the car in park kyra had hopped out and darted around to the side opening the door for you with a wide eager smile. laughter rung out as kyra tried to kiss you but you ducked under her arm leaving her behind with a frown as you popped her boot and grabbed your bag out.

"trouble in paradise cooney cross?" vic teased with a smirk as your girlfriend shot her a glare, slamming your door and grabbing her own bag with a huff. "you alright?" alessia murmured with a concerned gaze as she handed you the coffee.

"i am in a terrible mood." you muttered, sighing in relief at the first sip of your coffee, melting into a hug from the taller girl who patted your back. "oh kyra! get off." you heard steph groan as you pulled away from the hug seeing your girlfriend latched onto your national teammate.

"call her off! please." steph caught your eye and begged as you sipped on your coffee and walked off without a word, kyra clambering off steph and chasing after you.

"that was frosty, ouch." steph winced as the four girls followed after the pair of you, watching in amusement as your girlfriend tried routinely to grab your free hand or sling an arm over your shoulder as you pushed her off time after time.

you continued to ignore kyra's attempts to charm, flirt and schmooze with you as you entered the locker room. "oo ouch. now what did you do?" caitlin caught on instantly, steering kyra away from hovering after you as you dropped down into your cubby to change shoes.

"didn't get her a coffee and she's extra grumpy today because she didn't sleep and i slept over at charli's." kyra mumbled with a huff, fighting to wrench off caitlins arm which only tightened around her neck.

"oh girlfriend of the year!" caitlin whistled as kyra broke free and jumped onto her back wrapping her arm around the older girls neck now. "get off ya leech!" caitlin groaned trying to shake her off with no real luck as you laced up your boots and grabbed your coffee ready to head off for the team briefing.

but what kyra failed to see as she was clinging on tightly to caitlin was you try to shuffle past, accidentally kicking your coffee right from your hand as it clattered to the floor and kyra dropped away from caitlin who winced and hurried away.

"baby-" kyra started as you held up a hand, silencing her.

"if you think i'm cute when i'm mad i'm about to be gorgeous." you warned calmly, eyes narrowing as you let out a war cry and charged at your girlfriend who sprinted off away from you.

"come here babe i'm gonna kill you!"

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: You guys remember that thing I wrote the other day saying I didn't have an explanation for it? Well, I don't have one for this either. But I nearly cried when I wrote the last line. Deadass real tears. Almost.

C/W ::: Stupid sweet. Dad!Katsuki (27 yrs old, married to F.reader).

WC ::: Less than 530

Thinking about Katsuki hanging out in the living room with his baby after she had a bad dream.

It's 1:19 in the morning and he's awakened by the sound of his baby girl crying. You had begun to shuffle in your sleep at the sounds she was making, but he got up first, careful not to disturb you (like that would ever disturb you).

He quietly padded his way down the hallway to her dimly lit room and he peeked through the open crack in the door to see if she was ok before he walked in. She'd apparently heard someone coming to her because she stopped fussing just long enough for him to open the door the rest of the way and walk in to her.

His voice was calm, low and gravelly. But soft. A kind of softness that he reserves only for his little girl.

"Hey stinker, whats'a matter? Y'have a bad dream or somethin'? C'mere, ohhh yes, shh shh shh shh shh. Come on, up ya go. Wanna go for a walk with me, hah? Let's go. Jus' you 'n me. Let's hit the road, hah, Jack?" He picks her up without any effort at all. Her little 17 pound body is no match for the great Katsuki Bakugou. Though regardless - and because - of how small she is, he holds her closer than anything else in the whole world.

He holds her tightly with one arm and puts the other one on the handrail to make his way down the stairs, talking to her the whole way. "So, what'd ya dream 'bout? Yer mama runnin' outta milk?" She coos and smiles at him. He laughs, too, but he knows, realistically, there's no way in hell she could know what he's saying to her. But that won't stop him from telling everyone at the agency that his baby is a certified genius.

"Yeah, that'd be scary as hell. But really, when'r ya gonna start talkin', hah? I need someone normal to talk to sometimes. And," he senses you behind him and stops talking. Turning around, he sees you standing behind the couch, smiling, with your hand over your heart. "B'tween you 'n me? Your mama is a full-time passenger on the crazy train. She might even be the conductor one of these days." He winks at you and waves you off with his hand to go back bed. "I got 'er. 'L be up soon, ma."

You nod and hover for just a second to brush her soft little blonde hairs from her forehead. You kiss him on the cheek and walk back to bed.

He swipes the hair you brushed back to the way it was and gives her a long kiss on the crown on her head, sneaking a sniff of that baby smell. She smells like a combination of you and him: Vanilla and burnt honey.

"See what'm sayin'? Yer ma don't know how to do hair t' save her life. Tch. Bah! I love her anyway." The baby began to fuss a little again. "Hey! I didn't say I loved 'er more than you, baby boom.

@arlerts-angel @viburnt @darkstarlight82

[angeljeonjk97]

BodyWork || Bell #1

Jungkook x reader

friends to lovers

18+ (fluff, smut)

warnings: mentions and descriptions of violence, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol,

Jeon Jungkook is not the same 19-year-old boy you used to know. Fame has really matured him, in more ways than one.

“You already know how I like it baby”

You sit behind the desk of your dad's gym, playing a mobile game on your phone, waiting for the last person to leave before you can lock up. It was now dark outside, the entire sky was pitch black, not even a star in the sky. Your head jolts up at the sound of the male changing room door opening.

A tall, muscular man with jet-black hair and an arm covered in tattoos wearing a plain white t-shirt and black basketball shorts, emerges from the opening door.

He glances over at me behind the black-painted desk,

"Yo! Where's your dad?" he asks you, throwing a towel over his shoulder.

Jungkook is a famous boxer and has been for the past 5 years, and the gym that your dad owns just so happens to be where he trains. Your dad has owned this boxing gym for as long as you can remember and many professionals have trained here, but none for as long as Jungkook.

"Oh, he left already," You respond after realising you were probably looking at him for a bit longer than you should have, "Why?"

He casually walks over to the desk, leaning against it slightly to speak to you.

"He said he wanted to tell me something but, it obviously wasn't that important," Jungkook pauses before taking a sip from his bottle that rested in his right hand.

Your dad has always been the type to never wait around for anyone. He will do what he wants in his own time, without thinking of others most of the time. That's not to say he's selfish or anything but he can be quite... let's just say... assertive sometimes.

"How's training?" you place your phone down on the desk, placing your elbows on the platform with your chin in your left hand, looking up at Jungkook's muscular frame.

He scoffs, standing up straight to face you properly, he spans his arms out to his sides, with a cocky smirk on his face,

"I'm gonna win, so easily"

You roll my eyes and smile at his painfully obvious act. Despite his skills and how he hasn't lost a single match in the past 3 years, Jungkook is one of the humblest people you know. You both have known each other for 8 years and even though he's 26 now and is known pretty much all over the world, he hasn't changed at all.

He laughs at your response before getting closer to the desk again.

"You need help locking up again?"

"Nah, I should be fine," You reply, swivelling around in the black leather barstool, jumping down and pulling the keys from your pocket, proceeding to lock the cash register up.

"You got a lift home?" The black-haired man asks watching you as you walk from behind the desk and towards the changing room doors.

"I'm taking the bus home,"

"The bus? Why didn't you ask me to take you home?"

You turn your head to him behind you, flashing him a small smile.

"I didn't want to bother you, Kook, you've already worked hard today," you answer honestly, looking at Jungkook as you walk up the stairs. He follows behind.

"Oh come on. I've told you before to ask me if you need a lift home, buses aren't safe at night," He raises his voice a little so you can still hear him, "I'm driving you home."

You stop what your doing before looking at him with a disappointed look.

"Jungkook, I'll be fine-"

"No, I am driving you home," He cuts you off, crossing his arms across his chest. He goes silent for a bit as you don't respond to him before he breaks it again with a declaring tone, "I'm going to my car, if I don't see you in the passenger seat next to me in five minutes I'm dragging you out of here."

His voice fades as he begins making his way back down the stairs. You shake your head with a smile, knowing that you can't say no to JK.

After a few minutes, you make your way out of the gym, locking the doors behind you and pulling the shutters down afterwards. Before you turn around, you hear the sound of a car pulling up behind you. Of course, when you turn around it's a black Mercedes, that had Jungkook sitting behind the steering wheel. you open the passenger door seating yourself next to him, in which he sets off a few seconds later.

Once he parks up outside your apartment complex you turn to Jungkook,

"Thank you again, kook, but like I said, you don't have to be my taxi driver all the time. Someone might see you"

Jungkook shrugs back, his tattooed arm leaning against the steering wheel, "So what if someone sees me? It's not like you're in here giving me a blowjob or something"

You slap him on the arm with the back of your hand, giving him a disapproving look. He laughs back casually as these types of crude jokes are common coming from him.

"I'll walk you in," Jungkook says as he swings his car door open before you are doing the same.

Making your way up the stairs Jungkook remains behind you the entire time, looking up through the hole that the stacked up stairs, all leading to different floors, created.

Reaching your apartment door, you pull your keys out from your pocket, rattling them in your door, as Jungkook watches over you from behind.

"You coming in?" you ask looking up at him from behind innocently.

"Aw nah, not today y/n. It's late and I gotta be up early again tomorrow for training," He gives you a guilty look, glancing into your apartment, "I promise I'll be over soon though"

You give him a sad smile, remembering how much time he used to spend at your place with you. Because of his big fight in 2 months, he's been busy since the beginning of the year and hasn't spent as much time with you as you had liked, but you're not mad. You understand how tiring training can be, plus it's not like you two don't hang out at all anymore, you still make time for each other when it's possible.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then?" You respond, walking into your apartment and facing him again.

"Goodnight y/n"

index-next->

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

Authors note:

hiii, I hope you all liked this chapter. I know not a lot has happened but I promise it'll get better from here. This was just a little introduction to y/n and Jungkook's relationship and lore explaining. I'm so excited for this new fic so I hope you're all just as excited as I am. Please look out for when new chapters come out!!!

[wosoluver]

We don't talk anymore Part 2

Claudia x childhood best friend!reader

Different people reach the high of their careers at different times.

You couldn't complain though. From playing with the boys in your neighborhood, to playing for a first division team in England, you had come a long way.

And now at just 23, you were being transferred to Barcelona.

Yes. The same team that had turned their back on you years ago.

In truth you took the hard hit of being separated from your best friend and your family, as an opportunity, to work hard enough to make back home.

And here you were. Making your way to your first training with the team.

Your heart pounded in your chest, anticipating to see those beautiful blue eyes, always paired with a grin.

You thought about reaching out, but decided against it. What were you supposed to say? Hello? Remember me? I'm coming home?

And it's not like she didn't know you had been signed by her team. She could have reached out too.

Unless, something you refused to believe, she had completely forgot your existence, and didn't recognize her own childhood best friend.

You took a deep breath walking in, you went around the locker room, introducing yourself and Alexia took you under her wing immediately, trying to make sure fit in. Apparently you were a bit early.

"Y/N?" - You heard as you turned around.

Seeing her eyes shining as you did.

"Clau." - You said it on a quieter tone.

She immediately hugged you. Initially you didn't hug her back. Blame it on shock or blame it on hard feelings. But eventually you gave in.

"You two know each other?" - asked Jana.

"They are best friends." said Patri.

The only one there who had actually heard about you. Many, many times.

Like Piña she started very young on Barça, around the same time. They instantly became friends. She spent many nights wiping Claudia's tears, while she mourned the loss of her friend.

"I've missed you more than anything!" - She said already emotional.

"Long time no see hm?" - You said trying to break the awkwardness.

"I watched you play all the time on my tv." - And you instantly let the wall you were trying so hard to keep up, down. Offering her a smile.

"I did the same! I'm sorry for not reaching out.

I know it's stupid, but I thought you might have forgotten me..."

"There's not a day that went by where I did think about you."

You heard someone clean their through.

"You guys can talk more later yeah? We have some training to do." - Said Alexia kindly.

"I'm Patri! Piña's second best friend." - Said Guijarro with a big smile as you

all walked out for the field.

You couldn't remember the last time you had so much fun playing. You remembered how it felt to play as a kid. Remembered why you fell in love with the sport in the first place.

"Ets boníssima, Y/N! Welcome to Barça." - Alexia, said giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Moltes gràcies." - Giving her a bright smile.

"Hey wait up for me!" - Claudia yelled as you were all going in to shower.

"You're better than I remembered."

"Well the girls at Tottenham were a lot harder to play against, than the boys from back home." - You both let out heartfelt laughs.

"I'm sorry I left you behind."

"Stop! You didn't. You were following your destiny."

"I felt so powerless, not being able to demand they brought you along."

"Well I took the longer way here."

"You made them regret not choosing you. You proved them wrong. You played until they couldn't ignore you anymore!"

"You make it sound more glorious than it actually was."

"I told you, we would make it."

"You saw potential in me, before any team could."

You two finished getting ready.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"That would be nice."

"Okay. Patri you're giving Y/N a ride!"

"You offered me a ride? As a passenger in someone else's car?" - She really hadn't changed.

"She won't mind."

"I don't mind." - Said Patri joining the two of you on the way to the car. - "The english league had nothing on your defense, Y/N. You needed better competition."

As she said that you completely understood why they became close.

And once again, you made your way home together. As if you had never been separated at all.

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 5 - Sans Y Penser

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none really... mildly angsty situations, some flirting and interesting proposals.

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. HERE BE PLOT. A lot of things happen in this one afternoon. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Le Havre, September 1939

The port city of Le Havre is bustling with travellers hauling suitcases and steamer trunks, all walks of life converging on this point of exit. You weave through the crowds from the train station as a trio, headed for the bright red awnings of the company sailing to the USA. Benedict and Eloise hang back as you approach the ticket window. 

“Name?” the brusque man in the booth opens with a crisp American accent.

“Y/n y/l/n,” you smile politely.

“You are not on the manifest,” he sighs after a pause to scan down the paperwork, impatience colouring his tone.

“But I must be,” you frown, “I was given this here…” 

You push your ticket under the window, clearly marked with today’s date. 

“Fraudsters,” his economic response.

“But… they were from your company? Outside your offices in Paris? And wearing your company livery? They… They said I could bring forward my sailing date from August to today. They took my original ticket and gave me this! It looks the same!” Panic rises in your voice with each sentence, dread churning behind your ribs as you realise you have likely been duped. 

“I'm sorry, ma’am, but that is not a valid ticket,” is his monotone reply.

“Oh god. What can I do? May I buy another ticket now?!?”

His responding laugh is a loud bark, “Hah! Ma’am, we are booked up for weeks in advance. There is a long line every day of people hoping for last-minute availability,” he signals to a line of weary-looking, luggage-laden folks under a makeshift shelter.

“But I….” you feel your eyes watering and dread in the pit of your stomach like you are falling down an endless chasm. 

“Ma’am, please step aside; I need to ensure valid passengers can board this ship…” he warns in a tone that is wholly without sympathy.

With a weak nod, you stumble away, back towards Benedict and Eloise. As you draw closer, their faces are a picture of concern, realising something is amiss. As you tearfully recount what happened, Benedict seethes, and Eloise wraps her arm around you, looking pained. 

“I’m going up there. This is unacceptable!” Benedict grits out, righteous indignation fizzing from his very being.

You have to hold out a hand to physically stop him. “It's likely no use,” you appease.

His ire deflates a fraction at your hold on his coat sleeve. “At least let me try, y/n,” he modifies after a few beats.

“Alright,” you relent, dropping your hand, “but I do not expect a different answer.”

You and Eloise cling to each other as you watch Benedict remonstrate with the same man and then a different one at the window. All the while, your stomach is in knots, equal parts fear and hope.

It's five or more minutes before Benedict returns to you, his face pinched.

“I was not successful,” he screws his mouth, looking away as if he cannot meet your eye as he says it. “They don't seem to care that criminals are posing as agents for their organisation,” he rubs his eyebrow in irritation. “I would report it to the police, but it's not their jurisdiction here, and it still does not solve our dilemma…”

“Thank you anyway…” you breathe, “for trying at least…”

There is a long silence as the three of you stand there, stupified by the conundrum before you. The chime of a clock on the harbour building breaks your thoughts.

“It's 3pm. Your sailing back to England is in less than an hour. You should go. You two leave without me,” you demure.

“NO!” they both exclaim in almost comic sibling unison.

“I’ll be fine, seriously.”

“I’m not leaving you alone here for god knows how long until there is room on a ship to America. You can’t be alone. This isn’t Paris; this is a port city. It’s definitely not safe,” Eloise rattles off, looking at you imploringly.

“She’s right,” Benedict concurs. “You were safe in Paris together before the war. You are not safe here. A beautiful young woman. You are a target for thieves or even worse. You cannot stay here alone.”

You try your hardest not to let Benedict calling you beautiful derail your whole thought train, but it’s futile. Your mind is scattered like a pile of wooden toy railway coaches.

“I... I could return to Paris?” You finally suggest after what feels like an eternity of buffering. “I could call to check for last-minute availability every morning. It’s only a couple of hours by train. I’ll be always packed and ready to go…” you argue, not as yet realising the naivety behind your own idea.

“Paris will be the first target for Hitler’s invasion,” Benedict says gravely. “It could be much worse to remain there…”

“So what am I to do? I’m damned if I do, and I’m damned if I don’t…”

“There is only one solution, and that is for us to remain here as well until you can secure passage out of the country,” Benedict shrugs.

“Agreed,” Eloise nods emphatically as you go to protest.

“There are many more sailings back to England, and tickets are easier to come by,” Benedict points out. “We can move our tickets up. At least by a few days until we can devise a plan.”

 “Wait… if there are no ships to America, why don't you come to England with us?” Eloise pipes up in a lightbulb moment.

“I have nowhere I could stay…” 

“Nonsense! You will stay with us at Aubrey Hall. Won’t she, Benedict?”

“Oh yes, of course. There are plenty of spare rooms,” he assures.

“Gosh, umm... Maybe? I…” you hesitate. The whiplash of the last few minutes and the generosity of their offer momentarily overwhelm you. “That's very generous of you. The problem is I don’t know for how long it would be, or even if I should. My parents only agreed to me living in Paris under the watchful eye of Solene. This… this is entirely other…”

You startle as Benedict places his hands on your shoulders, pulling your attention to his sincere expression. “Y/n, you need to worry less about what your family thinks and more about yourself - what you need and your safety. This is escaping impending war; it’s a completely different circumstance from how you arrived here. The decisions you make right now have to be selfish and unburdened by expectations. It’s easy for others to judge from the distance of safety. But look around you. This town is teeming with people clambering to leave the country before an invasion. We do what we have to in unpredictable circumstances to survive.”

“You sound like a soldier,” you murmur.

“It’s what my father was,” he replies, releasing his grip but not moving away. “As a very young man in The Great War. He was lucky to survive, being an officer away from the front lines, but he taught me many things before he died. And one was about always making the smart choice if you can see one, even if it feels uncomfortable. The smart choice here is to escape by any means necessary. We all know Hitler has his sights set on France, especially Paris, as the figurative and cultural capital of Europe. You must get out. You must come with us.” You are captivated by his hazy eyes as he speaks, your heart beating fast as his face and voice grow softer. “Please. I could not live with myself if we left you behind,” he admits in a much quieter tone, but the plea is no less impassioned.

You cannot help it. You stare up at him, transfixed. Stanley has never been so eloquent. Or indeed so invested in your well-being. 

“Alright…” your hesitancy soft, “but you must let me pay you for my ticket…”

His face seems to light up at your acquiescence. “One day… maybe,” he smiles.

And so that is what he does - leaves you and Eloise ensconced in a nice bistro overlooking the harbour with a large bottle of white wine as he walks over to the ticket office for the ferry company and swaps their tickets for a few days hence and purchases an additional ticket for you, steadfastly refusing to tell you the cost for it even for many weeks hence.

While you are in the ladies' room, Eloise strikes up a conversation with a young man in uniform at the adjacent table; you fondly roll your eyes as you retake your seat and leave them be. Your gaze, however, is never far from the window, to where Benedict last left your line of sight, somehow anxious for his return.  When he reappears, striding purposefully towards the cafe, your chest flutters hard, his coat swishing around his legs, his hat at an attractive slant. If there is one thing you swear you could spend a lifetime doing, it’s watching Benedict Bridgerton just… be. 

“Any luck?” you ask as he arrives and doffs his hat, taking a seat on your other side, throwing an exasperated glance at his little sister and the uniformed man.

“We are set to sail Thursday,” he smiles and signals for the waiter, ordering a glass of Beaujolais. “I also stopped in the post office to call Solene. She has said we can stay as long as we need to at her sister’s cottage a few miles from town.”

“Oh, that's wonderful news!” your shoulders relax for the first time in what feels like hours. “But wait, I remember she said there is only one bedroom,” you point out. “You’ve been sleeping on our sofa for days now… you deserve a bed. I’ll take the sofa…”

“No. Also, I’m not sharing a bed with my sister,” he shudders, “she kicks in her sleep!”

“Oh, thanks. So I guess you want me to have bruised shins, then??” You laugh with gusto, the ricochet day making all your emotions heightened, seemingly bouncing from one extreme to another. Right now, a strange bubble of joy at this lighthearted exchange.

“Not at all. In fact, I’d happily share with you instead to save your legs from the abuse!” 

You know it’s said in jest, the comedic relief of the moment evident on his face, but still, a shot fires in your chest at the thought of sharing a bed with him. You decide to make light of it, even as your heart quickens.

“How do I know this kicking is not a problem that runs in the family? And you’re way stronger than her!”

“You can tie me down if it would make you feel better!” he chuckles loudly. 

You flush all over, the very thought so beguiling yet scandalous. And yet you cannot stop your mouth running away with you, this flirtatious banter too tasty to resist, the wine you’ve been drinking far too quickly for the last half hour loosening your lips.

“I think you would enjoy that far too much, Mr Bridgerton,” you volley back, raising an eyebrow with a giggle.

His cheeks turn the most adorable shade of pink even as his eyes dilate rapidly, a corner of his tongue flicking out to pull his bottom lip under his teeth. It makes you want to sink your teeth right there, this impulse to be so physical with someone discombobulating. You've never had such errant, feral desires for Stanley. 

“You're probably right…” he rumbles quietly after a pause. 

You dare to hold his gaze even though you know it’s a mistake. This nightmare of a day makes you uncaring of propriety. He looks as wild as you feel inside, a glint in his eye that is at once permission and danger. 

“Theo here has been telling me all sorts of helpful information,” Eloise leans in, breaking the spell between you, a slight slur in her voice from her wine. 

Theo nods to you and Benedict. On closer inspection, he appears to be in a British soldier uniform. 

“I have to get back on duty,” he explains apologetically as he rises from his seat, “but I hope the information I’ve provided to your sister here will help.” He adds with a tiny salute.

You look surprised at Eloise as she just shrugs. You thought her up to her usual flirtatious banter, not researching. Benedict looks impressed too. You both, however, don’t miss the note he slips to Eloise before he takes his leave. Perhaps not purely intelligence gathering, then.

“Theo is helping process entry to Britain for foreign nationals wanting safe harbour. The numbers have spiralled since the war was declared.” She begins to explain when he is out of sight. “There is sadly a waiting list. But there are a few ways to skip the queue…

“Those being?” Benedict prompts before you can.

“Having family relatives residing in Britain already or, top of the pile, being the spouse of a British national.”

You slump your shoulders. “I have no relations there. Uncle Robert was visiting, but he was already at sea returning to America when the war was declared,” you explain, wishing he had stayed a few weeks longer.

“I wonder if we can find any paperwork forgers around?” Eloise ponders aloud.

“Eloise,” Benedict's tone is one of brotherly warning and disapproval, “we will not be taking that route.” his tone striking a chord of finality.

“But… how else can we get her into the country without bending the rules?” she exclaims at him, frustrated, gesticulating.

“I’m thinking…” Benedict grouses back, rubbing his chin and looking deep in thought.

Eloise leans back in her chair and twists her mouth into a pout. She takes a swig of wine before twisting to you and casually making a suggestion that flips your entire being.

“You could marry this one,” she jokes, shrugging and gesturing at Benedict. 

Your eyes dart to Benedict and his to you. A tidal wave of a hundred different feelings crashing through you at once.

“I’ll do it…” he offers, quick and quiet.

“El, don't be ridic…” your denial, spoken over his, dies on your tongue as you process what he said. 

You can't help it, you gape open-mouthed at him. As does Eloise.

“You would?” you stutter.

He nods, mien sincere, but you could swear there is more, too, a rousing intensity.

“I was joking, brother,” Eloise frowns.

“It's the only solution that guarantees her passage out of France,” he argues, “that's the most important thing here…”

“But marriage? That is such a sacrifice… I could never ask that of you…”  you shake your head, even as your stomach feels like a rollercoaster.

“That's why I'm offering, so you don't have to ask,” he shrugs as if this is not a big deal. “It is not me who has to make the sacrifice. It is you who has an intended…”

Stanley.

Your face falls as you think of the consequences. Marrying Benedict, if only for escape, would wound Stanley beyond belief. Your father, both your parents, in fact, would vehemently disapprove. 

“We can annul it as soon as we get to England…” he assures.

“French marriages can be annulled, brother, yes, but in France. Not in England,” Eloise pipes up, ever the font of knowledge.

“Then I will grant you an immediate divorce,” he amends.

“I can't believe you are taking me seriously,,,” Eloise mutters, but both of you seem to ignore it.

“I’d still be a divorcee, damaged goods as my father would say…” you wince at the phrase but know it to be accurate in Long Island, as much as you hate it.

“I don't know how else to help you escape, y/n,” Benedict implores, slightly alarmed. 

“Keep thinking!” Eloise interjects hotly. “I won't have my poor best friend here shackled to a Bridgerton brother. She has done absolutely nothing to deserve such a sentence, however short.”

“Eloise!” you scold without thought, “don't be so rude about your brother! He's wonderful….”

You immediately flush with embarrassment as she looks at you suspiciously. You dare not even look over to the subject of your praise, but you can feel the weight of his stare.

“But umm yes, let's keep thinking…” you mumble, embarrassed, looking down and picking at your cuticles in your lap.

“I need a bloody cigarette,” Eloise pronounces, suddenly standing up, her chair scraping loudly over the tiled floor.

“Sister, you do not smoke,” Benedict frowns up at her, again with that air of elder sibling forbearance.

“Sometimes I do,” she shrugs, her tone defiant, “and this situation definitely warrants one.” She jabs her finger by her side to emphasise her opinion.

With that, she marches up to the bar and orders one but does not return to the table, shooting you both a look before heading to the wall outside and sitting alone, staring out at the horizon and taking deep draws.

You and Benedict sit in silence, heads bowed in thought for what feels like an age, only interspersed with small sips of wine. 

“I honestly can't think of another way out of this mess…” Benedict sighs, breaking the hush. “But I understand it's such an enormous decision; you need time to consider it.”

You are scared by how much your heart and mind are screaming, ‘I really don't, I will marry you,’ even if your gut churns with the idea of how you will explain it to everyone. You look up, and again, those blue eyes bore into yours. Sincerity, concern, empathy, and something that looks dangerously like desire. You could get lost in that look. Forever.

“I’ll do it…” you whisper, knowing you are playing with fire… and yet yearning to be burned.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[hungwy]

We missed the last train of the night due to the snow. It was the first snow Tokyo had in a while, apparently. None of us seemed dressed for that kind of wet cold. No gloves, just jackets, hats. We were worried for a little bit about how we would get back to the dorms. We waited a long time for a taxi. A long time. The snow had built up on everything in thick layers. I was used to snow but could not ignore how the cold penetrated my pocketed hands to the bone. We stood outside some building, I cannot remember now what it was, but freezing puddles formed around our shoes, kept liquid by some unseen heat source. The puddles reflected all the reds and blues and golds of the city lights. It was quiet for a city. I was tired.

A taxi finally arrived after a while. Just long enough to make its arrival a celebratory affair. We hurried inside it. I sat in the back, on the left, behind the passenger seat. My friends took the front seat and the seat next to me. Someone showed the driver the university address on their phone. In broken Japanese my friends both attempted small talk with the driver, an older man, but he seemed reticent, probably tired. I can't remember if he even responded with real words--probably focused on not crashing the taxi in the fresh slick snow. I knew how to drive in snow. I wonder, in all his long years, if he ever got used to it. The snow had been falling for some time now. Everything was capped in that snow, diffusing the golden glow of the street lights. Were they gold, I wonder? Maybe some were silver. I can't remember any more. It reflected the colors of the night, the still, freezing night which churned under an endless dark grey cloud. I'd seen those clouds before, in the winters of home, and they made me feel comfortable, warm, like a great blanket stretched across the sky.

I remember how the taxi cruised through the thin residential alleys of Tokyo, lined with small one- or two-story houses, stone fences barely interjecting between the property and the street. Most houses did not have their lights on. Fence after gate after fence after wall flickered past. I fell asleep, or pretended to be asleep, or failed to fall asleep, for a long while. I love sleeping in cars. I always have, since I was a kid.

It was a very long drive. I don't remember how I ended up back in the dorm. Where were we even coming from, then, when we missed our train? Were we split from a larger group? By ourselves, us three? Did we go out to eat, go to see some place? I don't remember any more. I remember the night, the cold, the snow, the frozen world, and the pleasant doom of knowing something would become a memory. Something I would regurgitate and reconsume in my mind until all the realness had left. The snow made sure the memory would become imaginary, picturesque. My eyes engulfed the fluttering, transient frames of the lamp-lit snowy streets. Those pictures which with use would eventually smear and blur into puddles of soft form and color, as they do even now. I wish I had written anything at all then. None of it would've been good, but just to preserve the detail, to remind myself of real, solid things. It's all slowly melting away, now, so soft

[criminalskies]

Not Alone. Aaron Hotchner x GN!reader

Hi all! so, this is actually a birthday gift to a beautiful friend and mutual who has been struggling recently. I heard him say that Aaron would not be proud of him at this very point in time, and well. I just couldn’t disagree more. So! That sparked this. I hope all of you reading can hear the message I originally intended to shine through the words. <3 And Happy Birthday, Casper!!!!! @softhairedhotch

word count: 3,400.

THIS IS HEAAAAAAVY ON THE HURT AND HEAVY ON THE COMFORT SO PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!

This fic contains: graphic depictions of depression/depressing imagery. Brief mentions of alcoholism/alcohol as a coping mechanism. Some allusions to suicidal thoughts and loneliness/bullying. Mentions of reader shaving and accidental cuts (no mentions of where on their body). Mentions of caffeine consumption.* *not tagging due to the heavy themes in this particular fic, I don't want to pressure anyone into reading if they aren't completely comfortable*

Numb. The only way to describe the way you’ve been feeling, or rather, unfeeling lately. What you know to have been weeks, feels like months, could have been years stretching on and on feeling this way. You have, of course had moments of joy and happiness, seemingly outnumbered by those where you’ve felt a kind of misery seeping in through the windows at night, staining your carpet with its seething despair. You’ve been trying and trying and trying to avoid it, standing on the furniture as it rises and rises. Now you must be clinging to your raised curtain like a cat, trying still to escape the dreary fog. 

Of course, you wake up every morning, noticing there is no stain at all. The sunny daylight bleaches every fiber in sight and washes away all your signs of last night’s struggle. You turn off your blaring alarm, wipe a restless sleep from your eyes and have to get on with your day. Every. Damn. Day. You throw on your uniform and you begin the endless trudge to Quantico. You can’t help but look around on your long commute, wondering if every other train passenger feels the same way you do. You see the same faces appearing time and time again, expressionless on their way to their same mind numbing 9 to 5. But surely, not everybody feels this weighed down. Not everybody feels like their boots are packed with lead and every step is in the wrong direction. They can’t all have been pushed to their last limit, violating every rule they set for themselves because they just can’t deny themselves a moment’s pleasure. A moment’s reprieve in a world that is otherwise frankly draining. 

Looking around, you note the absence of a particular man you’ve labelled Hat Guy. Until two days ago, you saw this man every morning on the same commute. He’ll often share a row with Newspaper Dude and sit in their comfortable silence. They never greet each other, though. In fact, you wonder if any of these people find the same brimming sense of familiarity and calm that you feel seeing the same faces each day. Actually, do any of them even know you? Would they notice if you stopped riding this train? If you were here every day for the past who knows how many months and then you weren’t?

Luckily, that crisis is cut off by the shrill sound of the doors grating open, you’re finally at your stop. You pick up your daily energy drink from the corner store before beginning your short hike to Quantico’s FBI Headquarters. Greeting the guards at the security checkpoint, you’re predictably asked to remove your bag and belt, putting your drink aside while you make your way through the scanners. The metal alarm sounds as you rush to explain to the guards you have a plate in your arm from an injury as a child. The guards seem equally surprised by this every day. Every day the same. You’re starting to wonder if you’re actually living the plot of groundhog day as the younger, more by-the-books guard picks up the metal detector wand, waving it over your body ‘Just to be sure’. You narrowly avoid telling him, like every single morning. that you’re quite literally one of a few people entering this building without a gun on your hip. There are about a thousand armed agents he should be more concerned with than you. 

You take the elevator up to the sixth floor, barely needing to glance ahead of you to know the path towards the BAU doors like the back of your hand. You push through the doors, the ever predictable Dr Reid being the first to turn and notice your figure trudging past his desk. 

“Morning.” He offers you a tight lipped smile as you note that he’s never even greeted you by name. If he didn’t have an eidetic memory you’d be convinced he didn’t know it. 

“Morning, Reid.” You offer him a similarly forced little smile as you trudge by the other familiar faces of your coworkers, all too absorbed in their work or in quite literally anything more interesting than you, you suppose. You set down your things with a sigh, shedding your jacket over the chair and looking over to see your three fellow evidence technicians deep in conversation, all sat around your ex-partner’s desk, laughing about how much they enjoyed going out for karaoke with the team’s field agents last night. None of them seem to notice your presence as you wake your computer and start rummaging through your desk drawers for your notepad, yesterday’s nearly finished evidence logs, pens and a calculator. 

One of your peers laughs so hard at a joke the infamous Derek Morgan made that she tips backwards, her hand flying out to catch her as it collides with the cold metal of your energy drink, spilling it all over your desk. The fizzy liquid quickly soaks into the loose pages of your entire week’s work as you just watch the can gulp more and more sticky drink over your things. You raise your hands to your head, taking a moment to breathe and tell yourself that you can redo the work. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Things can be replaced. It’s just useless. Seriously, what’s the point of trying anyway if everything is just ruined in the end? This is always the way it goes. You feel before you see the now empty can picked up and placed gently into the wastebasket by your desk, a long set of legs planting two shiny soles beside your chair as a throat clears, loudly beside you. 

The room comes to a grinding halt, your coworkers piling off the desks around yours, clambering to their feet to face their very unimpressed boss. 

“Agent Summers.” You hear a cold but familiar tone directed at the particular ass which collided with your morning caffeine. 

“Yes? Um, sir.” She stutters, clearly surprised to be greeted at 9:02 sharp with such a directed reprimand.

“Clean this mess up, please. This is furniture, not a playground. We don’t go swinging beverages over important documents. Although, I expect since you and your colleagues were meeting in your paid hours, you guys can come up with some plan to make up for this lost work? I trust you can make out which documents you just carelessly ruined on your own?”  

“U-Um, yes, sir. I’m sure we can, We can fix these-” She began peeling the dripping messes of paper off the desk as Agent Hotchner carefully wheeled your chair back just out of the splash zone. 

“Good. And don’t let this happen again.” He gave one last icy stare to the group of fools you once called friends as he carefully moved a hand to your shoulder. He bent down closer to you as his tone turned to one of delicate care. “Come with me.” He offered you a very neutral, soft expression as you pulled yourself to your feet, willing to just move one in front of the other, like always, and stay calm. Whatever he’s about to hit you with, you probably deserve it. 

It’s worth noting that you and Agent Hotchner had been in a sort of dance for months now, both of you had clearly been harbouring feelings for one another but each time one of you took a small step forwards, the other was nearly sent flying back. It was torture. His unwillingness to just be seen as even a little bit unprofessional even once in his life made it impossible to read him as anything other than neutral, if not even a little off-put by your continued presence in his life. Your building anxiety over his indeterminable feelings for you eventually led to the mounds of dead weight you’re now forced to carry with you day to day. The notion you weren’t enough for him to risk his reputation for and the nagging feeling that he only ever did what was right or polite of him to do towards you, and no feelings ever really existed for you continues to burn your throat where your loving words had once died trying to work their way to him. In any case, you’ve been actively avoiding him ever since your strong feelings of regret towards him began following you around like a bad smell. 

You follow him up the stairs to his office where his blinds are already drawn, his hand resting on the door as he allows you in before shutting it behind you. You walk towards the chairs opposite his desk, ready to be fired honestly for someone finally noticing your sluggish and lazy work ethic these past few months, only to be stopped in your tracks. 

“Not there. Over here, please.” You turn and see Aaron gesturing to the small couch by the window. You take a seat, pointedly staring at your now stained work pants as you feel Hotch lower himself onto the couch next to you. You sit for a moment, hand fiddling with the seam of your pants at your side while you await your doomed fate. 

“Y/N. Please, try to look at me when I say this.” Your head turns towards the more seasoned agent, but your eyes stay glued on your reflection in his overpolished shoes. “I’m worried about you.” You’re caught off guard by this, fully expecting the reprimand of the century for your lackluster job performance. You turn to him fully now, a frown pulling at your features as you try to think of what to say next. 

“You mean… like, worried about my job performance, or?” He doesn’t care. Mister professional, mister perfectly fine can only care about one thing and it’s this unit. 

“No. I mean you. Come on, Y/N. You think a seasoned FBI Profiler can’t notice when somebody is clearly struggling?” You resent that he had to say clearly, as if all of your efforts to hide your anguish and your pain have been for nothing, if it’s as clear as day anyway. “I don’t say this just to hurt you. I want to help you. I’ve seen you shrugging off every person who tries getting close to you recently, and I don’t want to let that happen here. I can’t let you push me away.” The gentle tone of Aaron’s voice drifting through the narrow space between the two of you almost moved you to tears. His offer to help you hanging in the air while you took a deep breath, trying to keep the beads in your eyes at bay. 

“I don’t know how to fix this, Hotch. Even if I wanted to let you help. Everything I’ve tried has only made this worse. I can’t get out. I come close but then each time I think I have a handle on my senses, I end up sinking further from the surface again.” You hear your boss actually take an audible gulp. His throat is tightening hearing you admit you’ve been struggling this much. The way your voice keeps wavering mid sentence is making his chest feel tight. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep treading water, Aaron. I’m tired. I’m so, so tired. There’s just no end to this.” You bury your head in your hands, only when your palms meet your cheeks do you realise they’re wet with tears you’ve held back for too long. The dam has burst.

“You start by admitting you’re not okay. You start by talking to a friend, or even just someone you can bear, and you admit that one person cannot move this mountain alone. You just did that.” A warm hand lands on your shaking shoulder as you move to sit more upright again, finally turning to look at the kind soul seated next to you. ‘Someone you can bear’ you note that this must be the sentiment aaron thinks he holds in your mind. God you’ve made such a mess of things. “It’s hard. I can’t pretend that reaching the other side of this is easy, or even that it’s fast… or linear. There are a dozen ups and downs and it’s so so slow going, but one day, you look up and it dawns on you that you haven’t been carrying such a weight around for a while. You realise it’s lifted. Little by little, without you even knowing, it got better… It does get better, Y/N. It did for me, at least.” 

You face the older man fully now, searching those deep, soulful eyes of his for the slightest hint that he’s lying. That he’s making this up just so you won’t stop treading water. 

“And I was like you. I won’t lie. I thought I was handling it, and I was handling it, and even as I lost my handle on it, I refused to let people in. To let them even see how bad things were. I couldn’t face my own employees knowing they’d seen me so weak or so vulnerable. I thought they’d all be disappointed to learn their unshakeable unbreakable boss was exactly as terrified and shattered as a person can be. But, you start with a conversation, and then you start changing the way you talk to yourself. The way you treat yourself. If we treated ourselves half as well as we’re willing to treat other people, I really think we’d live an awful lot longer. Fuller lives, too. But, I digress. I just wanted to say that I’m in no way disappointed in you. In fact I’m proud of you. Every day, no matter how bad you’ve been feeling, you have walked through that door and you have tried, even for a second, greeting this unit with a smile. Every day you’ve tried. Even if there was a whiff of alcohol on your breath from the long night before, or if you had to take home half your work for the day, trying to complete a respectable amount even though your brain is so clouded with shit that you can’t even find the lead end of a pencil. Even the mornings you’ve come in with fresh nicks and cuts from shaving yourself with shaking hands. I have been proud of you. You’ve never quit trying.” 

You swear you must be staring at Aaron like he has three heads by now. He saw everything. He saw right through you, all of your greatest faults and flaws, and he felt… pride? You feel a gasp rip through your chest, your now thick lens of tears in your eyes making it hard to tell if this is a dream, finally, the sweet dreams you’ve been hoping would interrupt the endless cacophony of hurt you’ve felt every night as you tossed and turned in restless sleep. Aaron’s weight shuffles closer to you on the couch as he moves to wrap his arms around you. Seeing your trembling form blubber beside him was beginning to make his chest physically ache as he saw himself in you. He thinks maybe that’s why he’s so inclined to help you. You helped him. The part of his story he didn’t disclose, was that the moment he realised the weight had long since left his shoulders, was the same moment he saw you setting down your things at a desk in the bullpen. Your quirked smile as you bounced from foot to foot, shaking your new colleagues hands had cut through the ashy gray of his known world like a beam of light. He had only then noticed that his back had stopped aching from carrying all of his grief with him. 

Right now, he pulls you into him as your fists ball in his neatly pressed shirt in the back, his cupped hand finds the back of your head and he instinctively rocks a little, side to side, his hand smoothing over your mess of hair so gently. The two of you feel yourselves drifting slowly apart from the flow of time as you sit there, heart to heart. All of your months of stress and heartache and dread finally move away from the forefront of your mind, drawn to the back for once, out of the spotlight. You can’t help but wonder if Aaron’s hand is a magnet for negative thoughts, but surely that is a thing of fiction. His smoothing motions over your slowing mind sure are dulling the terror and sadness that usually run rampant through your every synapse, though. Your mind feels almost clear when you pull back from Aaron, sniffling and removing your hands from his now very wrinkled, tear stained shirt as his arms loosen their hold around you. 

“I’m sorry, I-” 

“Don’t be. You are more important to me. Okay?” 

“Okay… then can I at least apologise for being such an ass every time you tried asking me out?” You look at the wonderful, sensitive, caring man before you and cross your every finger, toe and hair follicle that he’ll let you express your regret for the way you acted towards him. He clearly doesn’t deserve to be treated so hot and cold. 

“Pfft, only if you let me apologise for your probable whiplash the morning I scolded you for trying to take everyone’s coffee orders in a classified briefing right after I’d told you I had feelings for you the night before. I think I was trying to appear impartial to you but I very, very badly overcompensated and swung the other way towards disdain. If anyone should apologise for you not meeting me on the roof for dinner, it’s me. That was my own doing.” 

“Wait, that was you going for impartial? You threatened to charge me with Unauthorised Disclosure if you saw me even blink at Morgan’s open casefile again.” Now it’s Hotch’s turn to bring his hands to his face and groan. 

“God. Maybe impartial isn’t my strong suit. Actually, maybe dating isn’t my strong suit. But, dating or not, I really want to make sure you have someone in your corner for this. Even if you’d rather that’s Garcia, or, or Rossi. I just need to know you’re not alone. That you know you’re far from alone.” 

“I think you’re about the only person who’s been able to draw me out of my own head in months, Aaron. I really think you’re the best person for me to turn to here. Besides, it sounds like however far you’ve come since you were, um, treading water, you could maybe use somebody in your corner too. I’d like to do that for you.” You only notice now that the other agent had let go of you completely when he relented his role to the other agents in the unit. You make the move this time to be the one to put a warm hand on Aaron’s shoulder. Letting him know he’s also not alone. “Deal?” You offer your spare hand for him to shake. You think for a moment you catch sight of the stone-faced agent’s chin wobbling as he steadies himself in your grasp and moves to hold your hand, not shaking it. Interlacing both of your fingers between your laps where your bodies are exchanging the same warmth. 

“Deal” He offers you a shaky smile, letting a moment pass before he turns, checking the blinds are still closed and that time isn’t really at a standstill since you two fused with this couch. “Now, let me try look up what can get Mango Loco Monster out of cotton workpants.” He stands, moving to his desk too swiftly to peel open his laptop. You don’t miss the moment where he brings a knuckle up to his eye, wiping a stray tear onto his own pants as he rounds the desk. 

In that moment, you decide that you don’t particularly care if none of the other commuters, none of the other evidence technicians or even the field agents know you exist or notice your absence. You know now more than ever that you’re not nearly as alone as you thought you were. Once Aaron Hotchner is in your corner, he’s immovable. Destined to remind you that you’re worthy of love and of pride, even in your darkest moments. And you, in his.

banners custom designed by @ssaahthings please do not copy without permission from the artist. <3 thank you.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hello! I saw ur request is opening so hope u don’t mind this^^

So! I’ve been thinking of the trope “he falls inlove to late” with the demon bros (OG! Timeline) a whole lot lately because it’s just that fitting for all of them and sometimes the heartache is just too good

And that’s it! I’m excited for what you could come up with.

Thank you <3

COMMENTS: Hi. There are a lot of tropes that I don't know well, so I did a little research with Bard's help first. 😅 I couldn't see this happening easily because some characters would confess immediately (Asmo). So I used a cursed book where they enter and forget that they had already confessed.

I enjoyed writing this, I thought the idea was interesting. I hope you and everyone likes it too. 📖🚂

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: An average of 430 words per character.

CONTEXT: Diavolo asked you and one of the demon brothers if you could go get some books that had just arrived for the RAD library. Unfortunately, one of the books was cursed, and you two were transported inside.

Your memories didn't seem to have changed much. But in his case, he completely forgot all the love declarations he ever made to you. In his mind, he never declared himself to you. And, apparently, you were at the train station with Solomon, about to leave for the human world, never to return.

You won't hear anything from him until the last second. He will be there, right in front of one of the train entrances. Waiting for you. Somehow. Probably not even the book itself knows how he arrived at the station so quickly.

He walks steadily towards you. “You're late.” Lucifer says “I need to talk to you before you go.”

“But like you said, we're late.” Solomon says “We need go on the train.”

“I spoke to the train driver. It won't take long if you stop interrupting me and let me talk to (Y/N) alone.” Lucifer emanated that aura that not even Diavolo himself would dare to contradict.

Solomon took a few steps back and let Lucifer take you to a more secluded corner.

“Since the chances of you returning to Devildom are slim, there is something extremely important that I need to tell you in person before you leave. And it's something simple and difficult to misunderstand.” He looks you in the eyes with the greatest confidence and certainty of all three worlds. “I love you. And I know that whatever you feel for me is strong too. I'm not the type to fall in love for someone who wouldn't see me in a similar light that I see them. I hope you realize how special and important you are to me to the point where I tell you this sentence looking you in the eyes. And I will reiterate it: I love you, (Y/N).”

“That's what I wanted to tell you.” Lucifer continues “Regardless of what you do with this information, I didn't want you to leave without it. And I trust you with it. Regardless of how you feel about me, I am not ashamed or regret loving someone like you. You deserved it.” he crosses his arms “Now you have two choices, accept it,say goodbye and get on the train, or tell me how you feel about me back.”

If you choose the second option, you realize that there are no words better than an action. And you kiss his lips. You will feel his hands on your waist. and his kiss is controlled, as if he were treating you, And like saying that if you want more, you should stay.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You didn’t receive messages from Mammon. And if you tried to send him one, he wouldn't receive it.

“Maybe his D.D.D. is dead?” Solomon suggested. “Don't worry. I'm sure he wouldn't ignore your messages on purpose.”

You two get on the train and sit in your seats. Calmly, the other passengers enter, sit down and eventually the train closes the doors and starts to move. Solomon offered to buy your favourite snack to try to cheer you up a little, and then you started to hear screams of fright and surprise throughout the train. You look around, the other passengers are looking out the windows. And then you heard a knock on your window.

Mammon was upside down, in his demon form, wanting to get in while the train was moving and moving faster and faster. He was using all the strength he had to not let go of the train. After also being startled by that sudden vision, Solomon used magic to transport Mammon inside the train.

Mammon lay down on the floor, exhausted from all the effort it took to get there. He could barely speak because his priority was breathing. “I couldn't... *breathe* ...message... *breathe* ...D.D.D... *breathe* ...dead...”

“Ha ha ha. I told you so.” Solomon says.

Mammon needs time to catch his breath, but as soon as he feels able, he gets on his knees in front of you. He still doesn't have that much strength to stand up. “Ya dummy! I needed to tell ya somethin’ very important before you left!”

You ask what he wanted to tell you and he blushes very hard, especially knowing that the other passengers are looking at the two of you. “HEY! Conversation is private! Go mind your own damn business!” Passengers move away slowly, returning to their seats with caution.

“You know, you might need to be quick.” Solomon tells him “It might not be long before someone kicks you off the train with all this commuting.”

“I...” Mammon hesitated and the train conductor began to be heard approaching quickly. “AH! NO!” The conductor arrives, grabs Mammon by the coat, pulls him to his feet, and pins his arms behind his back. “NO! WAIT!” he looks at you “I LOVE YOU! AND I'M SORRY I DIDN'T SAY IT SOONER! I LOVE YOU! PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME!”

This is your chance to kiss him before you part once and for all. And if you do, and kiss his lips, he will find enough strength to let go of the reviewer, to the point of pushing him back, and grabbing you with the greatest passion he feels for you.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You were being bombarded with messages from Levi. He wanted to know if you were already at the station, how long until the train left, if it was late, etc. There was something he wanted to tell you, but it couldn't be via text, it had to be in person. Which is surprising coming from Levi.

Unfortunately, there came a time when you couldn't wait any longer. The train was leaving and you couldn't miss it. You and Solomon entered. You sent a message to Levi to tell him that. He did not answer. When the train started to move and you still didn't see signs of him, you sent one last message saying that the train had already left.

Just a few minutes later, the train stopped abruptly, frightening all the passengers. Someone shouted something about a giant monster on the line. You start to hear noises of something above the train carriage, until it reach the door that leads outside. And then, the door is broken down and Levi enters.

He almost freezes in panic when he sees all those strangers, but as soon as he hears your voice calling his name, he forgets everything and everyone and runs to you.

“(Y/N)!” He hugs you “Please, don’t go!” only to realize in the next second what he just did and break the hug with a completely red face. “I-I-I... I needed to tell you, No, I had to tell you, before you go, this feelings cannot be let unspoken.”

“That you don't want me to leave?” you ask.

“No. I mean, that to, but...” You all hear and see the train conductor approaching to, probably, catch Levi and throw him out. “I-I LOVE YOU!” Levi says like someone ripping off a bandage, knowing it's his last chance, and putting all his shyness aside. “You are my best friend and the person I admire and love most. I don't want you to go because I want to stay by your side forever. But if you really have to go and never be able to come back...” the train conductor grabs Levi's arms and holds his hands behind his back. “Urg!... please... don't forget me, ok?”

If you kiss his lips, you will feel him reciprocate with the greatest of passions. And if the conductor tries to pull him and separate your kiss, Levi will grab him with his tail and secure him.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You received some messages from Satan asking if you were already at the train station and what time were you going to leave. You respond to him, but after that you don't know anything from him again.

You get on the train and sit in your seat. Satan didn't show up. Until the train left at least. Solomon notices that you are a little sad and tries to cheer you up. But then, just a couple of minutes later, the train stopped. Through the speakers, you hear the train driver's trembling voice asking YOU to please go to the driver's cab. Solomon goes with you, because the train driver's voice sounds scared and he wants to protect you in case it's a trap.

When you arrive, the train drivers are scared in the corner, yes, but that's because in front of them there is Satan in his demon form and in a very bad mood. Until the moment he sees you, and his eyes shine. When he sees Solomon, he gets a little grumpy again.

Fortunately, Solomon gets the hint and leaves you in the driver's cabin while he goes to another cabin. Satan tells the train drivers to leave too because he wants to speak to you in private.

“B-but, we are t-the train drivers. T-this is our c-cabin. Y-you shouldn’t-”

“Is the train moving right now?” Satan asks. The drivers say no with their heads. “So you are not needed here!”

The drivers get up and leave, closing the door behind you and leaving you and Satan alone. And suddenly, all his anger disappeared, being replaced by a light blush.

“(Y/N), I have something very important to tell you and I couldn't let you leave without you knowing it. I should have told you this before, but I don't know why I didn't. I think I was scared. That if it wasn't reciprocated I could get angry. But now it doesn't matter. I can't get mad at you anyway. So I just want you to know that you are very special to me. I love you and I always will. Wherever you go, I wanted you to know this. Of course, what I want most is for you to stay here with me, but if you really have to leave, know that you will always have my love. I will never forget you, so please do the same for me.”

This is your chance to show him that you love him too with a kiss. And if you do that, he will reciprocate with all that boiling passion he was trying to contain.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You were being bombarded with, not only messages, but a lot of missed calls from Asmo. You and Solomon were rushing to catch the train and that's why you weren't able to answer his calls.

As soon as you managed to get on the train and sit in your seats, the train leaves. You pick up your D.D.D. and try to call Asmo back. But all calls go to voice-mail. However, Solomon's D.D.D. starts ringing and when he looks, it says that is Asmo who’s calling him.

“Aw, and I thought you wanted to say goodbye to me with a thoughtful call.” Solomon says after answering the call. “What? Why?” Asmo responds, but you don't understand what he says. “Yeah, that's really cute of you but I'm sorry, I don't believe that.”

And then you hear Asmo's voice loudly coming from his D.D.D. “JUST SUMMON ME THERE THIS INSTANT!”

Solomon jumped at the yell he received in his ear. “Fine, fine. But you'll owe me one after this, ok?” He gets up and summons Asmo, who appears in his demon form.

The moment Asmo sees you, he hugs you, almost crying. “(Y/N)!!! Please do not leave me! I love you so so so much! *sob* I don't know what came over me that I never said this to you before. I wanted to say goodbye to you so much! *sob* I wanted to show you all my love but I couldn't get to the station in time. *sob*”

The train conductor appears and heads towards Asmo. He holds him by the shoulders and breaks your hug. He says Asmo has to leave because he's not a passenger. Asmo looks at him in the eyes and you realize he's using that special power of his.

“Aw, but I just want to say goodbye to the love of my life. They’re leaving and I couldn't even tell them in time how much I love them. You're not insensitive, are you? I’m sure you understand and will let me stay here as long as necessary. Right~?”

The conductor let go of him. “My apologies. I understand perfectly. You can stay as long as you need.” Turns around and leaves.

Asmo focuses all his attention on you again. “Are you sure you can't stay? Here with me~ I will love you every day at all times. I need you. *sob* I need you so much. *sob*” Tears begin to slowly flow down his face. “Please, don’t forget me. Promise?”

This is your cue to kiss him. If you do so, you will surprise him. And then you'll feel his arms desperately around you, and a passionate kiss from someone who is already good at kissing.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You received a message from Beel asking where you were. After telling him that you were at the train station, he asked how much time he still had to get to you before you left. Just 3 minutes. After that he stopped messaging you.

You boarded the train with Solomon and you took your seats. The train left and you didn't get to see Beel. Solomon noticed that you were sad about not saying goodbye to him and he tried to cheer you up a little by buying your favourite snack.

A few seconds later the passengers start to get agitated because something is happening outside the train. Over the speaker, a voice asks the passengers to remain calm. They know someone or something is on top of the train but they will sort it out.

At that moment, the door of the carriage you are in is broken down. And Beel gets in, walking directly towards you, ignoring all the other passengers.

“I knew it was you.” Beel says with that cute smile of his. “He says with that cute smile of his.” He looks at the snack Solomon bought you, and his smile starts to fade. “I don't think I'll be able to eat it again after you leave. It will remind me too much of you. And I'll be sad that I can't be with you. So I wanted to tell you-”

“THERE!” one of the three train conductors shouts, and all of them run straight towards Beel to catch him.

“I don't want to hurt anyone.” He says “But more than that I don't want to leave without saying goodbye to (Y/N).” He fights the three conductors, knocking them all out.

Then he turns back to you. “Sorry, I'm making a big mess.” Beel says, already regretting it, but knowing he had no other alternative. “But I can't let you leave without knowing one thing. You're very important to me. As special as my brothers. It hurts so much to see you go, but I need you to know that I love you. Whenever I eat something good, I will think of you and how much I would like to share that meal with you. Take good care of yourself, okay?”

This is your chance to kiss him. If you do, you will feel his strong arms around you, as if protecting and guarding you like his treasure.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

Solomon notices that you are sad about not receiving messages from Belphegor. “I'm sure he really wanted to say goodbye to you.” He tells you “But, you know him, maybe he took a nap and didn't pay attention to the time.”

Eventually, you both boarded the train and sat in your seats. You didn't have any sign of Belphie until the train left. Solomon tries to cheer you up a little. He can't stand there seeing you sad.

But suddenly the train starts to slow down until it stops completely. Through the speakers you hear someone informing the passengers that there has been an unforeseen event and that the train has to turn back. You see the drivers passing you to get to the cabin on the other side of the train. They looked worried.

The train returns to the station and the doors are opened for anyone who wants to get off or on. And it is at that moment that Belphie enters, calmly, as if it were just another passenger. He stops next to you.

“(Y/N)~ You were leaving without saying goodbye to me. That's mean, you know.”

“Belphegor!” Solomon exclaims. “What happened? Why are you here?”

“I'm here because I wanted to say a proper goodbye to (Y/N). As for what's going on, why don't you go see? I would really like to speak alone with (Y/N).” He had that sly, slightly menacing smile on his face.

Solomon gets the hint and says he'll be right back before leaving the carriage.

“Sorry, I let myself fall asleep.” Belphie explains with an apologetic look. “I was dreaming about you. I dreamed that you had stayed, that you weren't leaving. So, to be honest, I didn't want to wake up. But then, you in my dream told me that I still had time, that I could still try to make that dream come true. That's why I woke up and came here. I don't want you to go, I want you to stay here with me. I love you. Are you sure you really can't stay? For me? For us? You also looked very happy in the dream, by the way.”

This is your chance to kiss him. If you do, you will feel a reciprocal tender kiss, and his arms lazily around you as if preparing to cuddle you until you both fall asleep in each other's arms.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

If you want to know what book that was: It was the story of a man who, for never confessed his feelings to the woman he loved, regretted it for the rest of his life. Especially after discovering that she also loved him after she passed away.

The first couple to enter the book and confess their love for each other would break the curse and the souls of the never-lovers in life could rest in peace together.

And they... died?... happily ever after... I guess...

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[levis-nut-dump]

~Break Away~

Description: Drug dealer ex boyfriend Connie tries to make you jealous.

TW: Drugs, gang, fluff, cursing

You never liked Connie Springer much. Since you were thirteen he was trouble in a small package and now you're twenty and he's trouble in a bigger package, which is why you weren't surprised when your six-month relationship was cut short because of his line of 'work'. You weren't too fond of being around a bunch of guns, drugs, and gangbangers every time you want to hang out with your boyfriend, you weren't cut out for that life. Not even two weeks later, Connie found someone who was.

You found the news out through a mutual friend of yours, Sasha Braus, she also hated Connie's work but knowing him as long as you have she knows just as well there's no pulling him from it.

"Already?!" you yelled.

Sasha jumped. "I mean, yeah. But that's ok, right? Your relationship was mainly physical and you don't like him that much anyway."

The truth is, you have grown to like Connie as a partner over the last six to seven months. You also found him sexy as you did dangerous. "Well... Whatever! Just how can he move on so quickly?! With Jackie nonetheless!" You grabbed your car keys and slammed your apartment door open.

Sasha jumped from the couch. "(Y/N) Where are you going?! He's around his people and Jackie's just as dangerous as he is! Don't do anything rash!" she begged.

"Fuck Jackie and FUCK Connie. I'm giving that prematurely grey jackass a piece of my mind!"

"Jackie?!"

"She can get in my way if she wants to. She doesn't mean shit to him. Connie's wanted me for years he didn't move on that fast. Jackie is just to make me jealous and it's not working." you say getting into your car.

Sasha crouched to talk to you in the passenger side window. "Are you sure about that?" she giggled.

"Are you coming or not?" you say with aggravation filling your body.

"Yes but only so I can keep my two best friends from killing each other. This is why we don't date in the friend group." Sasha said getting into the car.

You start the car on the way to Connie's corner. "You're dating Jean, who is in the same friend group." you point out.

"Jean who's not a gangbanger."

You flip Sasha off.

Finally, you get to Connie's corner hideaway. An old building he and his guys use to plan their moves. "Ok, so what's the plan? Do you have like a weapon or something or are we gonna take the sneaky app-" Sasha started.

You turned the car off and got out, slamming the door which alerted Connie around the corner as he smirked.

"Connie Springer!" you yelled turning the corner to Connie, his guys, and Jackie sitting on his lap. In front of them was a table full of guns, large bags of weed, and a white substance you didn't even want to know about, but you weren't scared, your ego was bruised. You weren't the violent belligerent type but when your pride was hurt no one was safe from your temper.

"Hey Connie." Sasha smiled and waved from behind you, fearful of the table that possessed at least three charges. Maybe Sasha's the only one exempt from your temper.

"Hey Sasha. (Y/N)." Connie grinned.

"Fuck he's so sexy." you thought. "You're kidding me, right? Jackie?"

Connie sighed. "We broke up babe. I moved on." he said cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah right. It would be more believable if it were with anyone but Jackie Fletcher." you scoffed.

Jackie got up and Sasha backed up. "And what's that supposed to mean? What's wrong with me?" Jackie asked putting her shoulder-length blonde hair into a ponytail and taking her earrings out.

"It means you have more STDs than Connie has warrants." you grit through your teeth.

Connie's boys laughed and this set Jackie off. "Bitch you better have the hands to back that mouth up." she said stepping closer

"My mouth isn't as 'trained' as yours but I bet my fucking hands are just as good hoe."

Jackie ran up and you don't know what happened but the next thing you knew you were on top of her punching her over and over.

"Guys take Sasha upstairs I'll take care of this." Connie ordered. As the guys were carrying out his command Connie went to pull you off Jackie. "Alright. Alright Tyson she's out!" he said finally getting you to your feet. You quickly turn around and push him. "The fuck (Y/N)?!" he yelled.

"What you want some too?" you asked, pushing him again.

"I'm not gonna put my hands on you (Y/N)." Connie said softly.

You push him again. "Why not?" You pushed him against the wall "Fucking pussy. Fight back." You slap him on his left cheek.

Connie stared at you with a hazel deadly glare that snapped you back to reality. Sometimes you forget just how scary he could be as he towers over you weighing two hundred all muscle. "You want me to put my hands on you (Y/N)?" he growled switching you against the wall faster than you can blink. "You come in here, yell at me in front of my guys, insult my girlfriend, then beat her unconscious. After that, you have the nerve to come at me?" He put your chin between his fingers and made you look him in the eyes. "You're so fucking sexy." Your lips smashed together in a sloppy kiss. You run your fingers through his short grey hair as he undoes your pants and drops them to the ground. With a small bite of your lip, Connie breaks from the kiss and peppers your neck.

For an hour, years of pent-up hatred and anger were released against that wall.

[amateurwritescm]

Weems, a Goddess

Hello everyone, I am tentatively posting this as my first fic. It was intended to be a complete fic but it became so long. So I thought I would post it and see what people think. So, here is the first part of made it as a first part of a few that will end up NSFW.

Warnings: Right now, I don't think there are any but I am super happy for you to tell me otherwise and ill edit. I'm new to this :). The only thing I will add is that I don't really proof read, so I am so sorry in advance.

I would love some feedback if you do read it.

Summary: Your Normie self arrives in Nevermore as the Academies new therapist. Instantly you are impacted by Larissa who is like a goddess. Fluff and flirting ensue. You are a mess and completely undone by her.

P.s. Help please I don't know what I am doing. SOS

🐴 CM

Weems, A Goddess. Part 1.

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You could faintly hear the train on tracks clacking away when suddenly, your eyes snapped open. Your heart picked up its pace, beating fast as if your life was threatened. You had forgotten where you were momentarily and cursing yourself for the way your body did this sometimes. It was so unpleasant.

Internally you laughed at yourself, knowing you wouldn’t usually have fallen asleep on a freaking train, but it had been a huge trip from Australia already. Finally, you were on your last leg to Jericho, Nevermore Academy. Filled with nervous energy, you looked out at the passing autumn trees. They were beautiful, calming you as they passed by almost rhythmically in time with the train. Memories arose of your brother telling you that you were crazy to accept a job on the other side of the world, in which you kind of agreed with. You knew very little about this school’s history. From what you could tell, it was a boarding school for outcasts. It intrigued you, being a therapist and all.

The train had been pretty empty for a while now, you guessed Jericho was further out than you thought. Weirdly enough the absence of passengers didn’t alarm you, kind of filling you with curiosity instead.

An uncomfortable screech of what you assumed was the result of poor-quality sound and speakers blared overhead. It did not fail to grab your attention as it announced your stop. Jericho didn’t have a train station, however there was one only half an hour away. You’d hoped that you could find an uber or a taxi, maybe even a bus to make your way there. Picking up your bags from the luggage section between the carriages, you waited as the train slowed to a stop.

Stepping onto the platform and chuckling to yourself, you marvelled the quiet. It was empty, oh except for some random woman at the other end of the platform. Weirdly, she didn’t get on the train. You supposed you could ask the woman if she knew how to get from here to Nevermore, realising it was probably not as simple as you first thought!

You were looking down, pulling your luggage in the direction of the woman when you heard a “Hello there!” in the most beautiful British tone. Looking up, you realised that the woman at the end of the track was much closer and you began to take her features. She was much taller than you first noticed, with beautiful curves and bright white hair curled pinned in an updo. The woman strode so gracefully towards you in her sage green tightly fitted skirt suit. Wow she was beautiful.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I am Ms Weems” she introduced, holding her hand out towards you in a soft gentle way. Are you Y/n? You half nodded, half shook your head realising you were staring right at her and hadn’t replied yet. In confusion, you took her hand. “Hello?” you said more like a question, hoping your accent wasn’t too harsh in comparison to the lull of her voice. She spoke again, “I’m so sorry to surprise you. I am here to pick you up, you see I forgot to mention that it’s almost impossible to get from the station to the school without encountering lots of chaos” smiling cheekily, her white teeth white filling her mouth beautifully. Suddenly it all clicked, she was the principal of the school and was here to pick you up. Taking a second glance at her beautiful face, you were taken back by how beautiful she was. You assumed the principal would be like a much older grumpy head mistress. You had only exchanged words over email recently, as your interview had been with someone standing in for her whilst the principal was on leave.

“I hope that’s okay?” she said, after your silence. You noticed her plump red lips turn from a huge smile into a concerned pout. “Oh of course, thank you very much” you finally came out with. Your eyes met her crystal blue’s which seemed to sparkle, was that even possible? You looked away as you felt the heat rise into your cheeks, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Interrupting your inner thoughts once again, she leaned in close to grab one of the cases you were holding and sung “this way!” whilst nodding towards the exit. It’s safe to say you died for a moment, momentarily made worse as you inhaled deeply, smelling her perfume as some kind of sweet flowery mix. Still standing there, you watched her walk away with her hips swaying and heels clicking against the concrete. She turned once again, “Hey, Y/N enough staring for right now, are you coming?”. You realised in that moment you were in some serious trouble.

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“And this will be your quarters y/n” I suspect you’ll find it most suitable. Most of the staff live in quarters by the hall they oversee so we are kind of spread out, but since you aren’t a part of the teaching staff” She paused and stepped closer to you, her hips slightly more forward as if they were beckoning you themselves “I also thought it would be nice for you to be closer to me, In case you need me…”. Her voice shifted from playful to sultry and low and she looked deep into your eyes, with an unspoken question. No, it was expectation. With her face flashing darker, her head slightly tilted down to you, she bit her lip.

Oh my god.

The word… or name even had brought you back to your earlier interactions with the principal. You were just as flustered now, feeling as though you were short circuiting. On the drive, Principal Weems had initially talked about some of the students at Nevermore, however you had trouble listening as you stared at her lips moving so gracefully, occasionally catching her gaze. Usually, you weren’t so frazzled by the presence of beautiful women. It was technically your job to be confident and talk to people and seek meaning, but this woman was something else.

You were sitting in the small car, with your luggage stuck in the back and boot. Looking over, you marvelled at her stature closely resembling some kind of goddess. Although she was slim, she barely fit into her seat with her long arm resting close to yours as she drove.  “The place you’ll consult with student’s Y/n is on the other side of my office. Its just a small room but you are welcome to change it around, decorate and make it your own if you like”.

You nodded, catching the last sentence as you were stirred from your thoughts by her mentioning your name. “Yes… sorry for not being so present. It’s been such a long couple of days I think my brain is just jetlagged”.

Or it is because you’re sitting next to a literal god in human form that you would let sacrifice you if it was her wish?

“Of course, you must be absolutely exhausted having come so far. Ill show you to your quarters and you can rest that pretty little head of yours” she said sweetly, glancing down at your body and then up to your face before looking back towards the road. “I was wondering though if tomorrow you might join me for lunch, seeing as it is a Sunday”.

Eeeeeee, she asked you to lunch! You squealed internally. Calm down Y/n it’s just lunch... You opened your mouth, expecting yourself to accept in a kind and professional manner. Which would have been so appropriate and normal, except you didn’t.

“I’d really love you for lunch” Fuck. “I mean I’d love you to lunch me… like… I mean… for me to have lunch with you, like you said”. Your stomach flipped violently making you push yourself back into the passenger seat, silently wishing it would swallow you whole. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and looked down at your hands.

 “G God, I’m so sorry” you stammered. your eyes flicking upwards whilst your cheeks beginning to sting as you knew you had no room to move underneath her gaze.

“My name is Larissa, darling”, her eyes darkening even further as Larissa internally revelled in the feeling of having caught you like a little mouse. You on the other hand, felt terrified but electrified by the way Larissa looked at you in that moment.

The thing was with Larissa, she was so emotive with her face that all could be revealed with a fleeting look. You, being a highly trained therapist were great with reading emotions, and that included those with a suggestive nature. You stored the glimpse you saw on that drive, knowing you could bring it up again in your mind. But you didn’t have to, because you remembered that you were standing in the room with her right now and the same look was on her face.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?” She picked an invisible piece of lint from your blouse before running her hand down your arm slightly. Your skin responded with little tingles. Having registered your response to her touch, she continued. “I must have missed that memo, with me having been away when you were hired. Well darling, I think I am going to quite like having you here” she said, her expression moving from the darkened gaze to a content smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart” she said not bothering to pose it as a question again. “Come to my quarters at noon and we can figure out a plan from there”. She was walking away slowly, turning to lean for on the door frame for a moment. “And bring those brilliant eyes, I love it when you stare at me”.

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The next day:

Larissa had felt quite taken with you the moment she saw you. Truly she had just expected to pick up the new therapist who would probably also leave shortly into the school term. The last one had left because of Wednesday Addams, of which you could understand to some degree but hiring someone else felt impossible knowing it may just happen again. However, when she saw you hop off that train, her heart felt like it simultaneously dropped into her stomach and beamed up into the sky outside of her being. She knew right then and there; you were hers and she wouldn’t let you go without a fight.

*Knock knock*

You knocked on Larissa’s door, and it she soon opened it to you dressed in a slightly more casual pair of dress pants and a soft pastel blouse tucked in to accentuate her waist. “Hello, my love. You look beautiful”.

Earlier you had tried on about 6 different outfits, making a huge mess in your new place, you went with your favourite pants and long sleeve combination. It was much colder than you had expected it to be though having come from summer in a hot climate. You walked in with a bit of a shiver, grateful to look over and see her open wood fire going.

“Oh, my love you look freezing!” With her beside you, she wrapped her arm around you and led you towards the fire. “Here, come sit with me and I will warm you up”. You thanked her quietly, just absorbing her touch as it lingered on you. You felt unprepared for her to leave, feeling her shift slightly you pressed into her a little. Larissa knowingly smiled and instead of moving further she simply asked “what would you like to do for lunch? And I mean what would you like to eat and not who” She laughed, recalling yesterdays use of your words. You tensed momentarily until Larissa squeezed your arm playfully. Relaxing you giggled “I’m so sorry, you’re just so beautiful and I guess you make me a little nervous”. Larissa, still smiling retorted “well that much, I can tell and its kind of fun” she pushed into you slightly causing you to look up into her eyes wondering what might happen next. Larissa looked down to your lips and then back to your eyes…

 “And as fun as this is, I am absolutely starving and we must eat!” Larissa gracefully lifted herself from your side. You audibly whined slightly at the lost of contact, until you realised she was gone. She emerged from a door hidden in a corner you hadn’t noticed earlier, holding a warm jacket out to you. “I thought as much as I am a fantastic giant water bottle, you might need this. Let’s go to lunch at the Weathervane”.

“Oh that’s so kind of you, but my place is just down the hall …” you began to make an excuse, knowing if you wore that jacket that she would never see it again.

“Nonsense, this way it is much sweeter” Larissa boasted a big smile, although she thought something much dirtier. It’s also going to be much more satisfying when I get to take it off of you.

Larissa motioned to you to turn around as she held the jacket for you to slip your arms into one by one, making contact with your arms, neck and back as she adjusted the way it sat for no reason other than to touch you. “Let’s go, Ill drive”.

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Only 15 minutes later you were hopping out of Larissa’s personal car which was much bigger, feeling slightly tipsy as it smelt intoxicatingly like her. It had made sense when Larissa opened your door for you, that the little car she barely fit into yesterday was not hers and was a Nevermore car for school related things.  

“This is the Weathervane, it’s such a nice place to get food and drink. They have really fantastic hot chocolate and cute little booths sit in” Larissa said enthusiastically with a smile charging towards the entrance. Your legs although not typically small, struggled to keep up with her. She turned around “Come on darling as much as I don’t mind you watching me walk from behind, I love having you by my side”. Fluffy comment pricked you in the chest, leaving you warm feelings. You didn’t know it then but that was just the start of the heat.

After ordering some hot fresh paninis and hot chocolate, Larissa sat down at her favourite booth in the corner. You sat across from her and began to ask her questions about Nevermore. You both talked for what seemed like hours discussing students, the history behind outcasts and education. It was all so interesting to you, and you couldn’t wait to begin with the students who needed you most. One thing that kept popping up was that you couldn’t help but wonder whether Larissa was an outcast or a normie like you. One part of you knew that she had to be, no normal human being could be so tall, so beautiful and practically perfect in every way.

“If you are wondering, which I am sure you are… I am an outcast” Larissa said, shaking you from what clearly was silence through your last thought process. Caught in a new bout of fluster, you began to ramble the thoughts you had been having. “That… doesn’t surprise me you know like you’re so beautiful and perfect kind of like some Amazonian, or goddess that fell from the sky or something. Like look at you, of course you are. No normal person looks so delicious”. None of that was supposed to come out of your mouth in the way it did. You shrunk down slightly, blushing bright red.

“Oh really? Well, that is quite the admittance” the words almost crawling out of her mouth, just like her body crawled forward, leaning over the table with little effort and maximum grace. “I just love the way your brain and body disconnect from itself and then does whatever it wants”. Tilting her head, she looked into your eyes and down to your lips, licking her own red plump ones. Suddenly you felt her leg brush past yours underneath the table. Feeling slightly brave as your core was set alight “Oh yeah?” you breathed out, hoping you didn’t look too impacted by her words and her actions. But how could you not? “Mmhmm, yes, I do. However, it would be much nicer if I were the one to undo you; mind body and soul and then put you back together again”.

You could say nothing, Larissa grabbed your hand and walked you back to her car.

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Tagged:

@weemssapphic

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 60]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 4.5K

[A/N: Longer chapter to end off the series! Thank you everyone who has been patient with me and supporting me through this series.]

You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the airport. Haneul followed close, holding onto the end of your jacket as she yawned tiredly, rubbing her eye. Poor thing was half asleep, following you and trying not to sleep while walking.

*I'm home.* You smiled softly as you pushed the luggage cart through. It was 4 am in Korea so the airport was relatively empty.

"Unnie? I'm sleepy." Haneul whined.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, let's go home and get some sleep." You chuckled. Just as you were about to get a cab, a van pulled up in front of you. You blinked in confusion until the driver came out.

"Joong?!" You yelped. Hongjoong gave you a sleepy smile as he stepped out, hugging you tightly.

"What are you doing here? It's 4 am. You should be sleeping!" You asked in shock but hugged him back nonethless.

"Ah, I can always sleep later. Of course I would be here to welcome my baby sister home. And even babier... sister?" Hongjoong chuckled, patting Haneul's head.

"Yeah, the princess is sleepy." You giggled. Hongjoong nodded and you both loaded the bags into the back. You made sure Haneul was comfortably seated in the back with the seatbelt on. Hongjoong even reclined the seat slightly for her to sleep. Then he opened the door for you to enter the passenger seat.

"I think this is the first time I've seen you drive." You chuckled.

"Really? I guess I don't have much opportunities to drive at all. Honestly, I'm surprised the manager hyungs let me take the van." He said, starting the engine.

"Well, I'm grateful you came nonetheless." You said as he pulled away from the sidewalk and drove to where your apartment was.

This new apartment was arranged close to the HYBE building, put together, prepared and arranged by the Big Hit team for your return to Korea.

The 2 year overseas stint was done and with investigations over, you could safely return with Haneul. Turns out, it was KQ CEO's own personal assistant that sent you those threats.

She caught you and Mingi once and was jealous. She thought she could get close to the boys, being the CEO's personal assistant, and possibly form a relationship with one of them. But it didn't work. She hated that you got close with them so quickly.

Once investigations were concluded, she was taken to jail. There was news article about it. But the details of the case was not made public.

"How was the flight?" Hongjoong asked, breaking your train of thought.

"Stuffy and long. It feels good to be out of there, I can finally stretch my legs properly and the air isn't so stale anymore. Plus, it feels good to be home." You let out a long exhale.

"Yeah, those kidns of flights always feel too long. Are all your stuff in the new place already?" He continued.

"Hmmm, not yet. Most of our stuff are but I had some last minute stuff to pack. They'll get shipped over in due time. But I think I have enough to unpack and keep me busy for a bit." You sighed.

"We'll help in any way that we can since we're on vacation." He told you. Ateez had finished touring and completed yet another successful comeback season. Now, they were on their well deserved vacation time.

"Alright, here we are." Hongjoong pulled up into the carpark. You turned around to see Haneul fast asleep.

"If you can help me put her on my back, I'll piggy back her up to the apartment." Hongjoong said, noticing your concern before you could even voice it.

"Really? She's not exactly a little kid anymore." You asked with uncertainty, you didn't want him injuring his back somehow.

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have offered. Come." Hongjoong got out. You opened the door and unbuckled Haneul's seat belt. You carefully moved her onto Hongjoong's awaiting back.

"There we go." He stood up, making sure the support her bottom.

"Let's bring her up before coming to get the bags. You shouldn't be carrying all of them on your own." He said.

"Alright. I'll just take my small bag." You took your cabin bag. You tapped the access card on the lift panel to go up and put in the password on the door lock. Big Hit assured you that this apartment compelx had the best security, which was your main concern. You held the door open for Hongjoong to enter.

"This way?" He asked. You nodded, showing him Haneul's own room. Luckily, you had made sure that she had a bed upon arrival. You removed the vinyl covering and Hongjoong placed her down.

"Let's bring the bags up." You said to him. The both of you brought up all the bags in one trip.

"Just hold on a second. Let me get Haneul settled." You rushed back to Haneul's room to remove her jacket and shoes.

"Thanks again, Joong."

"Stop thanking me." Hongjoong laughed. You looked around the house, some furniture was set up as per your request. The moving boxes were neatly piled in a corner.

"I need to order some groceries to the house. Hopefully they will get here by morning." You rubbed your forehead while scrolling on your phone.

"Or we can go get some stuff in the morning." Hongjoong suggested, settling beside you on the couch. You let out a contemplative hum. You sighed and leaned against his shoulder, his hand coming up to pat your head.

"Wooyoung and Jongho would kill me when they wake up, knowing I came to pick you and Haneul without them." He chuckled.

"Ooh yeah, can't help you out of that one." You winced. Hongjoong pulled away to shoot you a glare.

"What? You know it's true. Wooyoung loves me and Haneul has Jongho wrapped around her little finger, the moment they are together, they're inseparable." You shrugged.

"I don't want to die. My vacation just started." Hongjoong groaned.

"You are more than welcome to crash here for the rest of the night." You patted his thigh.

"I may just take you up on that offer since I don't want to drive back. But what about you? Please don't tell me you're going to pull an all nighter and unpack." He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to shower first then unpack the necessities at least. It is going to take a while for Haneul and I to get over the time difference. Might as well use the time to be productive somehow." You stood up, going to your luggage to get the small soaps that you had packed with you. Hongjoong let out a defeated sigh.

"When do you start work?" Hongjoong asked with a yawn, turning to lay across the couch now that you were not sitting there.

"Two weeks? Need time to settle the moving stuff, Haneul's school and get over jetlag." You rubbed your eye as you sat in front of your luggage to get sleepwear out.

"Alright, I'm going to shower." You announced as you stood up. Hongjoong nodded and waved you off.

"Indi?" He called out. You turned around, blinking.

"Welcome home." He gave you a sleepy smile. You couldn't help the soft smile that formed.

"Feels good to be home, Joong. And call me (y/n)." You said softly and went into the bathroom. You were grateful Hongjoong was the first person you saw when you stepped off the plane.

Seeing Hongjoong made you feel more calm and collected, just having him around was comforting enough. Mingi didn't know you were coming home today though, you wanted to keep it a secret and surprise him later on.

When you came out, Hongjoong was fast asleep, snoring softly. You took the blanket you had in your suitcase and covered him with it.

"Now, let's unpack." You sighed softly, sitting in front of the luggages and boxes with the necessities you and Haneul would need before you could get to the other stuff.

"Luckily there's no dust." You noted, putting Haneul's clothes in her closet. You went over to her sleeping form.

"I love you." You kissed her head and slept beside her instead of your own bed.

By the time you woke up, you heard Haneul speaking to someone outside. It wasn't just Hongjoong's voice though. You poked your head out to see Haneul on Jongho's lap.

"You just can't resist her, can you?" You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. Jongho shrugged, focusing back on Haneul.

"Wooyoung hyung went to get food for all of us. Hongjoong hyung drove him. You can go back to sleep if you want, I got it covered here." Jongho informed, gesturing to Haneul busy drawing with him at the table. You nodded and yawned, waving to the two before collapsing back onto the bed.

"Indigo... Wake up..." You didn't feel like you slept long before Wooyoung was laying in bed with you, wrapping his arms around you to snuggle.

"Hi, Woo." You opened your eyes.

"Welcome home. I missed you." He smiled softly, holding your face to give you a big smooch on your cheek.

"I missed you too. All of you." You chuckled, draping your arms and legs over him just like he was your own bolster. You let out a tired sigh, eyes closing again.

"As much as I would love to cuddle, I told Hongjoong hyung I would get you up to get some food in you." Wooyoung chuckled.

"Alright, let's not get in trouble with Joong. Oh and Woo? Call me (y/n)." You pushed yourself up and got out of bed to wash up, leaving a stunned Wooyoung there. You heard him yell in the room.

"Unnie!" Haneul grinned from her spot on the couch. She jumped down and ran over to hug you.

"Hey, baby." You leaned down to hug her, patting her butt and kissing her head. She held your hand, following you to the bathroom. She stood at the door, waiting for you to brush your teeth, wash your hair and do your skincare.

"Are you tired, baby? It'll be a while for us to adjust back to Korean time." You chuckled, combing her hair after you combed her own. She shook her head.

"I'm not sleepy."

"Alright, alright." You patted her head. You knew she wasn't tired now but she will definitely feel it later.

"Let's go eat!" She pulled you along to the living room where the boys were sitting at the dining table already, with disposable cutlery since you haven't unpacked any kitchen stuff.

"Sorry for the mess of the house. And the lack of kitchen utensils." You apologised.

"You just came back this morning, it's completely understandable. No need to apologise." Jongho chuckled, pulling the chair out for Haneul to sit next to you. Wooyoung slid an iced coffee over to you. You took a sip and let out a blissful sigh of gratefulness. The coffee machine also wasn't set up yet.

"I got you some basic groceries. Not sure what you use specifically but we got the princess some yoghurt, milk, eggs, your iced coffee, etc." Wooyoung informed.

"You guys are life savers. Let me know how much it costs and I'll wire you back." You said, taking a portion of food for Haneul.

"No need. Take it as a welcome back gift. And don't argue with me." Wooyoung shook his head.

"What's your plan after this?" Hongjoong asked.

"I'm gonna see Mingi's mom. Then surprise Mings at the dorm." You replied, chewing your food. You leaned over to help Haneul wipe the sauce off her lip.

"Sleepover?!" Haneul's eyes brightened, looking over at you. You couldn't help but laugh at how excited she looked.

"We'll see." You said. You didn't want the boys, especially Jongho, to think that you were always leaving Haneul with them. At some point, you didn't want Haneul to think that you were never around too. So you would have to consider it.

When you were done, the boys helped you with clearing up. You were feeling a little stressed, knowing you still had to do the unpacking of the house.

"Why are you frowning?" Hongjoong came up behind you, massaging your shoulders as you were washing your hands in the kitchen sink.

"Moving is always stressful. Knowing how much more there is to be done is worrying." You sighed.

"I know me telling you not to stress won't really help. But seriously, count on us to help you with all this. You and Haneul can stay with any of us if you'd like." He comforted.

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without any of you." You leaned against the counter.

"Suffer." Hongjoong teased, making you jab him in the ribs.

After a bit, you got yourself and Haneul ready before the boys dropped you off at Mingi's mother's apartment. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stood at the lip. You didn't know how much she knew about what happened. She would know that you and Mingi separated right?

"Unnie, are you okay?" Haneul looked up at you. She wanted to buy Mingi's mother a 'present' too so you prepared a little fruit basket for her to give. She was a lot more excited than you.

"I'm fine, baby. Don't worry." You smiled and pressed the lift to go up. The lady might yell at you and kick you out of her house.

She had every right to.

"We're here." You said, stopping before the door. Haneul put the basket down, tip toeing to press the doorbell. You gulped as you heard the door lock beep.

"Hello?" Mrs Song opened the door. She seemed to pause when you saw her. The first thing you did was bow deeply.

"Omonim, I-" She cut you off, pulling you into hug. You blinked in confusion, not really expecting her to hug you. Haneul giggled beside you.

"Let's talk inside." She pulled away, smiling at you softly. You nodded and let Haneul in. She removed her shoes before holding out the fruits basket out to Mingi's mother with the biggest grin ever. Mrs Song cooed and bent down.

"My name is Haneul." She introduced.

"Thank you, Haneulie. This is really sweet of you. I'm Mingi oppa's omma. You can call me omonim too." She received the basket and gave Haneul a hug.

"So this is the famous (y/n)." A deep male voice said. Your eyes widened as you saw an older man sitting on the couch.

"Mr Song, it's nice to meet you. I'm (y/n)." You bowed to Mingi's father. He was tall as well, features similar to Mingi's. He chuckled and stood up, moving to stand in front of you.

"It's nice to finally meet you too, (y/n). I can see why my son has fallen head over heels for you."

"Jagiya! Don't embarrass our son." Mrs Song hit her husband's shoulder.

"Just call me abonim, no need for Mr Song. It's too formal. We're family here." He shook his head. You nodded and bowed your head. You waved Haneul over to introduce herself to Mingi's father. She bowed formally before introducing herself. Just like everyone else, you could see the way he melted when Haneul spoke.

"(y/n)." Mrs Song called you over as Haneul was distracted by Mr Song. You went over to the kitchen. Seeing that it was finally the two of you, you finally did what you wanted to do.

"I'm so sorry for everything I, omonim. I don't deserve-"

"Stop." She cut you off. You squeezed your eyes, awaiting the lecture that was coming.

"(y/n)..." She called and you straightened up. You could see how she softened and reached out to hug you tightly. You wrapped your arms around her.

"It's not been easy, hasn't it?" She whispered.

"No... It has not..." Your bottom lip quivered as tears threatened to fall again. At that point, you knew that she knew what really happened.

"I hurt him so bad, omonim. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You shook your head. She rubbed your back.

"(y/n), you went through a lot. I know you didn't intentionally hurt him. I don't blame you, abonim doesn't blame you. You went through a lot on your own and you had to be strong for Haneul. You didn't deserve to go through that." She pulled away, staring at you.

"You did it because you wanted to keep Mingi safe. You wanted to keep Haneul and Ateez safe. I understand." She rubbed your arm. You nodded your head.

"I'm just glad you and Mingi worked it out." Grabbing a tissue, she wiped your tears.

"I don't deserve his forgiveness, or any of yours."

"Let's not talk about who doesn't deserve what. Because Mingi would say he doesn't deserve such a selfless person like yourself. Every couple goes through hardships." She smiled softly.

"I'm glad Mingi didn't let you get away. I knew that you weren't the type to just break his heart and leave." She said.

"Thank you for everything." You hugged her again.

"Nothing to thank me for. Now, I have two daughters to care for." She giggled, looking over at how Haneul was now seated on Mingi's father's lap, animatedly telling him something. He had a fatherly smile on his face as he listened to her intently. You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you.

"So have you gone to see my pabo son yet?" Mrs Song asked as she moved to cut up the fruit that Haneul gave her.

"Hmm, not yet. He doesn't even know I'm back. I'm planning to surprise him later on at the dorm but I wanted to drop by here first. It's been too long." You said, leaning back against the counter.

"How was it? Living in America."

"It was interesting, I learnt a lot there in terms of work. Culture is different too. But nothing beats being at home." You shrugged.

"Oh yes, I forgot Mingi told me that you signed to a big company. But of course, home is still the best. Home is where your family is." She chuckled. You nodded in agreement.

"Alright, you two. Let's have some fruit." Mrs Song brought the cut fruit out to Mr Song and Haneul.

"Abonim." Haneul beamed and held out the pick with an pear slice at the end. Mr Song chuckled and leaned down to take a bite, patting Haneul's head. You grabbed an apple slice and handed it to Mrs Song, who was seated on the couch beside her husband.

"Is this what it's like having daughters?" Mr Song asked, staring at Haneul and you fondly.

"Right? I said the same thing when I first met (y/n)." Mrs Song giggled. You laughed, knowing Mingi and his brother would not be amused at their parents fawning over having daughters.

"I think I like having two daughters." Mr Song tapped his chin.

"Better not let your sons hear you say that." Mrs Song slapped his arm lightly.

"Please like you don't tell Mingi that you like (y/n) more." He rolled his eyes. The way they joked and interacted, you hoped that you could be like that with Mingi one day.

When the fruit was finished and you spent some time with Mingi's parents, you got ready to leave to Mingi, Seonghwa and San's shared dorm. You didn't want to go too late, especially with Mingi already having texted you a few times while you were at his parents' place. Haneul hugged the two.

"See you next time!" She giggled, hugging them tightly.

"Yes, you are welcome any time. Good girl. Be good to your unnie." Mrs Song chuckled, hugging her. She nodded her head and went to hug Mingi's father.

"Come back soon, alright?" He kissed her head and hugged her tightly. You melted, glad they got along well with her.

"Bring her back to me soon. And yourself too, (y/n)." Mr Song said, hugging you.

"I will, abonim. Thank you for having us and entertaining Haneul. Please take care." You chuckled. Then you moved on to Mingi's mother, who hugged you extra tight.

"Don't stay away for too long." She told you.

"I won't. Take care." You bid them goodbye with a final bow before leaving. With Haneul by your side, you called for a cab to take the two of you over to the dorm. During the drive, Haneul fell asleep. Poor thing, she was probably fighting the sleep for a long time.

When the cab pulled up to the dorm, you sent San and Seonghwa a message to let them know you were downstairs. You had to wake Haneul up.

"No..." She whined.

"I'm sorry, baby. You can sleep soon." You apologised, really feeling bad. You should have properly let her adjust to the time difference instead of drag her out with you the entire day.

"Hey." You greeted San and Seonghwa. Seonghwa hugged you while San helped a sleepy Haneul to his room.

"I missed you." Seonghwa hugged you tightly.

"I missed you too, Hwa." You relaxed in his arms, smiling. When San came back out after helping you settle Haneul into his bed, you hugged him too.

"Good to have you back, Indigo." He chuckled, stroking your head. You hummed in agreement. Seonghwa went to the kitchen to get you a drink. You received the glass of juice and took a sip, sitting on the couch with them for a while. San had informed you that Mingi was napping so he didn't come out to greet you.

"I shouldn't have dragged Haneul out. Poor girl, she's probably exhausted." You sighed.

"She'll adjust soon. Don't worry too much. She can sleep in my bed for as long as she needs." San smiled kindly.

"Thank you." You smiled. The way all the boys were just always ready to help you and Haneul melted your heart. They really treated you both like family.

"As much as I would like to catch up with you, this is the perfect time to surprise Mingi." Seonghwa said.

"Right. I hope he's still asleep." You put the glass down and stood up. San and Seonghwa watched in amusement.

"Good luck." San wished. You pressed your ear against Mingi's door to hear if he was awake. There was no sound of movement or Mingi's voice, which meant that he was still asleep.

You took a deep breath, it had been so long since you've seen Mingi physically that your heart was pounding. You slowly turned the door knob and crept in. Mingi was still sleeping, tucked under the blanket with his back to you. Getting in bed behind him, you hugged him.

"Ugh, San?" Mingi croaked out with a groan. San was known to go to the other members' rooms to cuddle so he must have assumed you were him.

"What time is it? Go back to your own bed and let me sleep..." He clicked his tongue.

"Fine. If that's what you want, I'll go." You chuckled. You felt Mingi's body freeze in your hold. His head whipped around and his eyes widening as he looked at your face.

"BABY?!" He sat up and looked at you as if he was dreaming, rubbing his eyes.

"What are you doing here?!" He asked.

"Surprising you." You laughed at his expression. Mingi's hands immediately came to cup your cheeks, pulling you to him so he could press his lips to yours.

"Wait, when did you come back? I'm confused, you didn't mention this to me at all when we texted or called. I'm not actually dreaming, am I?" He pulled you to his chest to hug you.

"You just kissed me and you're physically hugging me now, pabo. How can you still think you're dreaming? And I already said that it's a surprise, that's why I didn't tell you. I came back early this morning, Joong came to pick me up at the airport." You laughed. Mingi scratched his head, letting all this sink in.

"How long are you back for, baby?" He asked, fingers coming to weave through your hair as he held your cheek.

"Forever. I'm staying forever, Mings." You softened.

"Y-You are?" His voice shook, as if he couldn't believe what you were saying right now. You nodded with a hum, wrapping your arms around him as you sat in his lap.

"I missed you so much. Now I have you with me forever." He looked at you, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Yes, no more distance." You said softly.

"If you two are done with your reunion, could you come out, please?" Someone knocked on the bedroom door. You and Mingi looked at each other in confusion. You went to open the door.

"Welcome home, Indigo!" All the Ateez boys were there with Seonghwa holding a cake.

"Shhh, Haneul is sleeping." San reminded and Jongho nodded, looking at everyone threateningly. They wouldn't dare be loud now.

"Guys..." You softened, not expecting them to be the one to surprise you. You soon felt Mingi's presence behind you, he put his hands on your shoulders.

"Thank you for welcoming me home. It feels good to be back with all of you. And please, we're family, aren't we? Family calls me (y/n)." You looked at all of them. They all stared at you with soft smiles at the mention of your real name. You went over to greet Yeosang and Yunho with hugs since you haven't seen them.

"Good to have you back, (y/n)." Yunho whispered. You nodded and patted his back. With everything that happened, you're glad you and Yunho could come to an understanding and work things out.

"You've lost weight. Have you not been eating well?" Yeosang chided as he lifted you up.

"I have been, I promise!" You laughed, slapping his shoulder.

"Now that she's back, we'll make sure she's really eating well. We ordered a lot food to celebrate! So eat up." Hongjoong said. You giggled and nodded, about to follow behind the boys to where the food was.

"Mings?" You blinked when you felt him hold your wrist to stop you. You turned back to him, only for him to tug you to him, until you fell against his chest.

"Welcome home, baby. You're finally home where you belong." Mingi whispered. You melted, looking up at him before you hugged him back, your ear pressed to his chest to hear his heartbeat.

"I love you, Mings." You said.

"I love you too, my muse. I'm never letting you go again." He kissed the top of your head, holding you just a little tighter.

You couldn't agree more. Home was here, with Hanuel, Mr and Mrs Song, Ateez and Mingi. These people were your family, people you knew you could rely on and count on. And you wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

~

Series Masterlist

[sardonic-the-writer]

—tangy

SUMMARY | this was supposed to be a simple, relaxing mission. all of that had been thrown out the train window as soon as you saw idiot one and idiot two

PAIRING | tangerine x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNINGS | spoilers for bullet train, hit men, mentions of murder, guns, ect

WORD COUNT | 1.7k+

AUTHORS NOTE | fell in love with tangerine while watching bullet train. what more is there to it

🍊 MASTERLIST 🍊 NAVIGATION 🍊 RULES 🍊

Confined spaces certainly makes the job easier for you.

You were able to observe everyone simultaneously. Being everywhere all at once. Sitting idily in a corner inconspicuously, sipping on a drink while pretending to read a newspaper. All the while watching as people fidgit with their fingers and mingle amongst nearby passengers. Keeping tabs on who leaves and who enters and how many times they do it.

In fact that's all you had been planning on doing for the next twenty four hours. Enjoying the ambiance of the lovely modern train as you waited for your mark. Probably opting on getting up to lure the target into a bathroom stall, slitting their throat once the lock had been clicked. An easy job by definition, especially for you. Practically a vacation handed to you on a silver platter.

That's why you almost choked on your fizzy drink when they walked in.

You'd never forgot a face. Not once. That's part of the reason you made for such a good hit man. Show you someone's high school picture once, and you'd be able to pick them out in a crowd forty years after it had been taken. And when I say pick them out, I mean with a gun. Preferably from a rooftop. Probably from a rooftop.

So you recognized the leather jacket and blue suit almost immediately. After all how could you forget. Your annoyance for them had been all but solidified in concrete the moment the loud one had shot your leg in Russia, his twin just watching. That cast was a bitch to lug around for half a year, and everytime it thumped against the staricase in your house you cursed the both of them.

Suppressing a groan, your eyes cautiously watched from behind the pages of a comically large larg magazine as Lemon and Tangerine walked down the isle of the train compartment together, facing each other while bickering quite loudly. Or at least doing what you assumed was to be bickering. Knowing them, they probably just used that many curse words in a casual conversation anyway.

"I've told you a thousan' times, bruv." You listed to Lemon slur his words with that thick accent of his, practically spitting fire at his twin. "It's Thomas The Tank Engine. Not Thomas the Train. Get that in ya thick skull."

"Oh well, ex-fucking-scuze me. I didn' know I'd be gettin schooled on a fuckin kids show today, twat." Tangerines eyeroll was all but audible in response. He ignored as fellow passengers swapped offended looks with each other at their language. You'd imagine he'd be flipping them off if he wasn't so busy basically biting his brothers head off.

They were nearly past your booth now and out of the train car, your fingers tightening around the reading material in front of you in anticipation. For a moment you thanked whoever had given the both of them such long legs and speedy strides, happy as long as they were out of sight. Didn't matter that they would still be on the train. As long as they didn't see you, all was well.

So of course they would choose that moment to stop right in front of your fucking seat. The urge to stand up and kick them both in their asses was only increasing. Not that it wasn't already high up there in the first place.

"I don't give a bloody damn when ya smart ass people half the time you bastard. Here me complanin? Nope." Lemon popped the p at the last word, pointing a finger at his companions chest. "But no one, and I mean no one ya cheeky fuck, bad mouths Thomas in front of me."

"Right. And what you gonna do about it, fruit boy. Stick a diesel sticker on me when I ain't lookin?"

"I just might. An don't call me fruit boy. You're the one who came up with those names in the first place 'member?"

Your muscled tensed up in preparation when Tangerine suddenly whipped around to you, dragging Lemons attention along with him. The cool metal of your gun brushed against your fingertips as you slowly reached under the trains table for where it was hidden. Maybe this time you'd have an excuse to shoot them in the legs. Send them a hallmark card in the hospital afterwards. Something cheep and tacky. You were petty like that.

"Hey, mate, mind reminding my buddy here tha' grown ass adults don't watch the cartoon channel and he's due for a visit to the loony bin?"

You just glared at him and his stupid fucking 90's porn stache, frown deepening as you watched recognization well up in his eyes.

"Hang on." Your hand twitched with the urge to rip his tounge out of his mouth as it ran across his bottom lip. "I know you—"

"Oh for fucks sake."

You hopped up, abandoning your cozy little corner in turn for dragging him by the lapel of his now wrinkled suit into the connecting cabin of the train cars. You imagined that if they hadn't been so surprised by an innocent looking samaritan dragging their asses along, you would be sporting two new holes in the side of your head.

"One job! I had one job and the two of you had to muck it all up!" Words hissed out of your mouth like steam from a gas can as you dropped your grip on Tangerine and turned away from him, revealing your own gun nonchalantly. They were both quick to draw their own, stances stiff and confused in contrast to your loose but annoyed one.

"Ay I recognize you now." Lemon looked over at Tangerine, gesturing his gun to you loosely. "Russia. A broken leg. James the train, 'member?"

"Would you stop it with the Thomas the train shit for one fffuckin moment?" He hissed back. "Yeah I remember 'em. But that dosent explain what the hell their doin on this train now does it?"

"Nothing that concerns you." You saved them the trouble of yet another fighting match. "And wait, James the train?"

"Yeah." Lemons eyes brightened slightly while looking at you. As if happy someone was asking him about his interest in the train show without attempting to shit on it. "A James. Impatient but gets shit done. Kinda determined too."

You blinked.

"Okay now I like him." You turned your gun over to Tangerine completely now, the man's eyes widening as he sputtered slightly.

"What?!"

You shrugged with an unbothered and downward turn of your lips. "He complimented me. Plus he wasn't the one who shot me in the leg."

"Come-fucken-on that was not a fucken compliment!!"

"I dunno bruv." Lemon shrugged, mirroring your earlier action. "It kinda was."

"Yeah, alright I definitely like you now."

"Oh come off it you bitch! Help me out here or I'll fuckin kill you before they shoot me!" Tangerine spat. You listened as Lemon snickered.

"Hey. I'm good at readin people wha' can I say. And they certainly aren't lookin to shoot any of us right now. That's not a very Jamss thing of them ta do." You sent Lemon a kind thank you—to which he returned it with a your welcome. Tangerine was left alone to seethe in anger.

"Stop that before you blow a gasket." You made a face, referring to the way Tangerines jaw clenched as if he were attempting to chew glass. "Your brother here, Lemon, is right. I don't really feel like carrying your lifeless body across this train right now. I just want to get my damn job done and then go see a cherry tree grove or something."

He grumbled whilst Lemon preened at your recognization of his correct assumption.

"Besides. I'd hate to shoot you in the face and ruin your best asset. Would really ruin my day more than it already has been." A loose sigh made it past your lips. "Fucking up shit is more your style anyways."

You could tell Tangerine was struggling with being of the receiving end of such a blatant compliment and insult on the same time—practically picking through his brain for a measurable response. Either way he was about to run his mouth, and you'd wasted enough time on the job already.

"If I see either of you pass by through my train car again, it better just be that: passing through. Anything else and I am not afraid to end up leaving a few people with ringing ears. Capishe?" The gun in your hands was nodded at strictly, the not so hidden threat being left out in the open for all to interpret.

"Loud and clear mate." Lemon grinned.

"Good. Now scram."

"Hold on love—"

"Call me love again, and I rip that mustache off and shove it straight up that ass of yours. Now ta-ra, or whatever pricks like you say." You were already leaving, so sadly you didn't get to see the look on Tangerines face as you walked off, really just wanting to finish that drink you'd left behind now. Although you wouldn't complain if you were to find something a bit stronger than soda. Especially after that.

The twins waited until you were out of the connecting room before either of them went to speak.

"You know." Lemon clamped a hand down on Tangerines arm with a toothy grin. "If I didn' know any better bruv, I would say tha' you have a thing for them. Not everyday you get a compliment on your ugly mug."

"Must have hit your head boarding. And get ya fucken greasy bitch ass hand off me." He snarled, swatting his brothers hand off his shoulder. "They just threatened to kill me for fucks sake. And I them!"

"I dunno. They seemed like they're a little partial to oranges themself."

"It's tangerines idiot! Tangerines!"

"Whatever. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

[serenescribe]

Hmmmm... obviously, discard if you don't want to write this BUT—

Lilia has a surprise for Silver. Usually, he goes on travels ALONE, right? Well, not this time!

Beach time? Snow mountains? Whichever, or you can choose your travel location. Silver will enjoy spending time with his father no matter where they go.

Initially, when Silver heard Lilia was leaving, he was like sad, but determined to wish Lilia safe travels. He goes about his day, although pouting and being much more downtrodden than usual, so much so that Lilia notices. He finds out why, and laughs, saying that Silver was invited to join him this time if he wanted.

Idk if writing some snippets from the actual trip would be too long, so just do you on that part. But, it'd be cute to see Silver's reaction to hearing about where they're going!

💙

[✐] ficlet frenzy

The rumbling of the train tracks lulls into a lullaby, a distant melody that sways his son to sleep.

Lilia cannot help but smile as he feels a head press against his shoulder, a pressure that dips against his limb. To his side, Silver slumbers, eyes pressed close, mouth parting the slightest bit. Today, he is dressed for comfort, clothed in a thick, fluffy sweater and simple slacks, soft clothes that are perfect for a long journey. Lilia, too, is dressed similarly; he dons a matching sweater, except Silver’s is blue where his is pink.

Beyond Silver are glass panes that reveal an ever-changing landscape outside, swathed with hilly uplands, flower-filled meadows, and thick pine forests that cluster together. The Queendom of Roses, with a geography so different from that of Briar Valley. While there are certain overlapping similarities, such as the abundance of woodland rooted across the land, there are enough differences that every day is enough of an adventure for the two of them to explore.

And what an adventure it has been! Everytime Lilia reminisces over their travels thus far, he silently admonishes his past self for being so foolish as to never bring Silver on a trip with him. Oh, how much more lively those days would have been, if he had simply been travelling with his son! There has been no greater joy thus far than to see the blatant delight plastered so openly on Silver’s face whenever they arrive at yet another city or town, head twisting left and right as he takes in all the stunning architecture.

Lilia isn’t ashamed to admit that a good chunk of his luggage is filled with gifts for Silver, cheerfully buying whatever catches his son’s fancy. What else is he to do, when Silver continuously handicaps himself from things he so clearly wants to purchase?

Even now, he still remembers the surprise that struck Silver’s face when Lilia had sprung the trip on him. Lilia had been planning it for a good while: he’d made a show out of preparing to go on yet another lengthy travel in-between his third and fourth year at Night Raven College, excitedly chattering to Silver about all the sights he was looking forward to seeing. Lilia smirks at the remembrance; it had been so amusing to observe how dejected Silver had been, knowing what was in store for him.

And when the day of the trip arrived, and Lilia sprung another ticket and an already-packed suitcase onto Silver?

“I was thinking… It would be awfully lonely to go on such a long trip by myself, hm? So what do you say to joining me, dear? …Khee hee hee, surprise! …Oh, you look as though you’re about to faint!”

Bit by bit, the train begins to slow down until at last, it slides to a stop. There’s the distant whistling of the train accompanying it, and as the doors slide open, footsteps echo through the cabin, of passengers embarking and departing, gathering up their bags and luggages as they come and go.

Next to him, Silver begins to stir. He blinks open his eyes, lifting his head to stare at Lilia blearily before he mumbles, “Wha…?”

“It’s not our stop yet,” Lilia assures him with a smile. He shuffles a little closer, wraps his arm around Silver to pull him into a half-embrace. “Rest for a little while longer, dear. Do not fear, I shall wake you before we arrive!”

There’s still plenty left on their itinerary before their flight back to the harbour, and their subsequent boat trip back to the valley. Silver still wants to show him Deuce Spade’s hometown — Clock Town, if Lilia recalls the name correctly — and there’s still a couple of other places they have yet to visit. But for once, they have plenty of time.

As the train whistle blares again, and the rattling of the wheels against the tracks engulfs the air once more, Lilia leans back into the plush cushion of the booth seat, and smiles.