#and so on and so forth i already talked about this for four thousand words you dont need to hear it again

[bnuuys-writing]

Twisted Wonderland's Phantom

Hi! I hope you enjoy this! This is the introduction of the crossover of Phantom of The Opera x Twisted Wonderland. Do forgive me if theres any grammar mistakes or repeating themes. I wrote this with a migraine lol but I have been seeing everyone talking about this for months now, and today was the day I have decided to write it now that I have a small break from school + My job rn. 

If you have any questions, or wanna talk headcanons, or just want to shoot me a compliment; feel free to throw it in my inbox!! <3

Chapter One(You are here!), Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Leona's Ending, Malleus' Ending

~Bnuuy out!

Y/N, also known as the prefect of Night Raven College of Magic. AKA The Dorm leader in charge of the lonesome home named The Ramshackle; or in other words, Y/N the Magicless Human. The story has been told many times in rumors or whispers of the magicless human within the prestigious magical all boys school across the crowds of thousands. How they arrived with the other new years and how life started for them within this new world as a cat sitter, as well not being able to use any sort of magic left a mark within the school. Yet, here they stand, with friends from across all the dorms within the school as they have saved them from countless Overblots.

“Guys, I’ve told you many times, I’m just going to the library to go check out a new book. You do not need to follow me!” Y/N exclaimed tirelessly as their compatriots, Ace and Deuce, followed them with smiles on their faces.

“Cmon Y/N! Lighten up! Its the final school year of Night Raven College! Certainly you don't want to be sticking your nose in some boring books! Right Deucy?” Ace chimed out as he nudged his fellow troublemaker who only grunted at the elbow.

“Well… Y/N can do whatever they would like to do-” Another nudge from Ace’s elbow, perhaps a bit more rougher this time caused Deuce to cough a bit. “-But yes! You could be spending time with us at the unbirthday parties! And plus, the alumni are coming today! Riddle, Vil, Leona, all of your friends are coming to visit the school JUST for this week! Don't you want to see them?” Deuce asked, rubbing his side where Ace had nudged a bit too roughly.

True, this was indeed your third year at Night Raven College with no luck in finding your way back home, so this was your only chance to start studying hard to make your footing and to make a stand for once you are officially graduated from the College. Only making it more the wiser to really get your butt in gear of trying to find what you would want to do after this year. Grim would most likely be on his own, having surpassed both Ace and Deuce in study, but you could’ve guessed it was out of pure power instead of intelligence. Deuce would most likely follow his dream of becoming a police officer and making his mother proud, as for Ace…? You shuddered slightly at the thought of Ace becoming more than just a student at Night Raven College, and couldn't bring yourself to think about the possibilities he might have as an adult-prankster.

“I do but guys, you already know what you will or want to be doing outside of Night Raven, and I don't… So, I have to get started on getting my foundation really set up before I am graduated.” Y/N started towards their two friends, Grim just happily purring away on your shoulder as you argued back and forth before shaking your head. “Follow me or not, but I’ll be going into the library to see what I can do for a living as a magicless person within Twisted Wonderland.” Rolling your eyes while opening the large door to the library with a loud creek, the two could only watch as you walked in and the door shut with a loud slam.

Now the library was impressive, many books dating from all around from history to How To’s books. If Crowley knew anything, it was that he was an impressive hoarder of books- although you doubted he knew that- or doubted if he could even read considering all the slacking he's been doing in getting you home. So much for a Gracious Kind Headmage. Humming to yourself as you began to walk down the countless isle of books, memories flashing within your head as you pass down certain isles.

How Floyd Leech chased you down the history isle, begging to squeeze you while you were ushering a poor certain Riddle to run away and hide. Becoming Floyd’s new toy for the next hour until he got bored.

Rook Hunt recommending some certain weird books about how hunting and survival tactics would be important for you if you ever got lost in the wilderness. At least now, you’re able to tie a knot very well as well as start a fire!

Jamil and Kalim studying hard at a table- Well… Let's be honest here, more like Jamil trying to force things into Kalim’s mind who was more busy talking to you and asking about your day than actually studying.

Lastly, Malleus reaching above you to grab a certain book you were wishing to read for fun and for him to hand it to you with such gentleness, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you called to your friend, Tsunatrou so happily and thanked him for reaching the book for you.

Pausing at that isle as you could almost see the figures of your friends whizzing past your eyes like shadows of long forgotten dreams. Shaking your head slightly, you trudged forward only for something hard to hit your head, causing a familiar NYAH! To echo within your ear as your shoulders become lighter. Grim and this large thick book layed on the ground as you rubbed your head in pain, letting a quiet groan in pain as you collected yourself back together.

“Grim, how many times have I said not to drop things on me?” You questioned out accusingly towards your roommate who only let out a small pout, shaking his head furiously at your accusations.

“It wasn't me this time, I assure you Y/N! This book fell off that really top shelf!” Grim pointed his paw up to the very top shelf that you knew you would need a ladder to reach. Sighing, you picked up Grim and held him close to your chest as you looked down at the book accusingly only for your reaction to turn miffed and confused. The words on the book were swirling around in different languages, if you could assume, for only when you reached out to touch it, it changed to your native tongue.

“Phantom of The Opera?” You whispered out, eyebrows raised as you looked at the book with curiosity and disregarding the whines of Grim who suggested that this book was not a book you two should dig into. Grabbing the book and stuffing it into your bag, you quickly left the library with a newfound of urgency to head straight back to the ramshackle and dig into the book with a profound sense of curiosity. 

Crewel did say to you once while you were trying to find a certain book about potionology within his room, of course with no such luck sadly, that books sensed with magic will choose who will read them next. That sentient books were also very dangerous if put into the wrong hands if the book chose who it got transported to next wrong.

“Y/N! MYAH! I don't think we should dig into this book!” Grim shouted out at you as you set him down on the couch within the Ramshackle, having run home quickly to dig your nose into this book. Grim could feel it, but you couldn't. Something was wrong with this book but he couldnt put his paw on it just yet…

“Oh hush Grim! Everything will be okay! I'm magicless, remember? I don't think I can even wield a grimoire!” You stated out as you rushed up the stairs after having placed your keys, phone and wallet down on the counter. Leaving a very concerned Grim behind your tail with ears folded down and a queasy feeling in his stomach that was not akin to premium tuna fish hunger…

“That's what I'm worried about…”  

It wasnt hard to get yourself settled in your room, book in hand, ready to dig into its contents or find out what this Phantom of The Opera is. The Alumni should be here within the next hour so certainly you had a bit of time to at least get started into the book, right?

A small glimmer rippled through the hard cover of the book, as if whispering you to open it, begging you to turn to the first page. As if you were under Jamil’s special magic, you slowly peeled back the cover and turned to the first page only to find it blank, then the next page, following the next page. All of it was blank! Sighing in frustration, you began to flip through the pages until the book forced you to stop on one. On the page, a glimmer rippled through it only for a large red rose to appear, a mask, and a diamond ring. A message soon appeared underneath the items, a prompt;

Choose One.

Huh… This is interesting.

Humming in curiosity, you reached forward to pick up the rose, it was clean of all thorns and had few leafs on it. A delicate specimen that Riddle would’ve shamed you for plucking had it been in his own rose garden. Yet, once your fingers glazed over the stem, your vision began to get heavy and dark, it was getting harder and harder for your eyes to stay open as you fell unconscious in a matter of seconds.

Meanwhile, Grim huffed and puffed downstairs, waiting for you to come out from your room to feed him. An hour had passed and you promised to feed the Alumni and Grim tonight at Heartsabyul! Yet you were still locked away within your room and here he is, waiting on his henchman again! 

“Y/n! Cmon! Im hunnggryyyy!!” Grim shouted out from downstairs, making his way up to your room now. WIth a hard shove into the stubborn old door, he found himself with the book on your bed and with you nowhere in sight. Stunned and alerted at your lack of presence, he let out a loud MYAH! As he booked it downstairs and out the door to the one place he knew he could go to for help.

Heartsabyul.

The party was already booming, the roses had been painted red, everyone seeming to be enjoying tea and the treats that were brought along. At least Riddle seemed to be enjoying himself back in his seat of Queen. Leona wasn't too far down but he seemed uninterested in all the sweets but more of the meats that Savannahclaw had brought in for the party. Of course, Azul had also brought along Floyd and Jade to sell out merchandise of her flourishing outside of NRC business. Jamil and Kalim were off to the corner, Jamil having brought their own food for Kalim to eat. Iida and Ortho were obviously nowhere to be found but some snacks had been going missing here and there. Vil and Rook were pestering Epel who had flourished perfectly, complimenting their Poison Apple. As for Malleus? My, did he receive an invitation? No one can recall.

“GUYS! I NEED HELP!” Grim’s screeching voice ripped through the garden, causing all fun and festivities to stop. Usually when Grim is screaming, a Prefect is certain to follow afterwards. Yet, As Grim bounded over the table to Ace and Deuce with no Prefect in tail, the air got visibly tense.

“Y/N HAS BEEN ABDUCTED AFTER THEY PICKED UP THIS BOOK FROM THE LIBRARY THAT HIT THEM IN THE HEAD! I CANT SMELL OR FIND THEM ANYWHERE!” Grim screeched out as Deuce and Ace were looking at him weirdly. Suddenly, the sunny day within Heartsabyul got cloudier… And Cloudier… To where it looked like it was about to storm.

“Where is the Child of Man?” An all too intimidating presence made itself known. Malleus, with a decorated invitation personally assigned by Y/N stood by the entrance of the garden. Lilia, Silver and Sebek all standing there alongside him. Leona was not impressed by this showcase of purely a tantrum from a now King of Briar Valley. The air was tense, the cake was suddenly no longer sweet and the tea was ice cold.

“Settle down Malleus, I’m sure this is one big prank from Grim to try and scare us all.” Lilia spoke, a small ‘fufu’ following afterwards as he stared out into the large crowd. Leona was the next one to speak, slicing the tense air with a knife.

“I hoped you wouldn't show, yet here you are. And Grim, if you’re pranking us, its a horrible prank and you need to try better next time.” Leona sighed out, rubbing his temples as he stood up. He didn't need to be here anyway, if it weren't for his brother pestering him to go and Cheka kept getting into his business now as being a little older of a cub. If the only one who was taking it seriously was Malleus, Deuce was also included in the worry.

“What do you mean Y/N got abducted, Grim? Where are they?” Deuce asked out urgently as he stared down the grey haired familiar of yours. Grim looked around the room, hoping other than Deuce and Malleus were worried, he could smell the concern rising from Leona but made no rush to comment about it. Vil and Rook were both on edge as they stared down the cat and Riddle’s eyes were boring into the soul of Grim, as if trying to see if he was lying so he could cast his unique magic on him.

“Well! Like I said, there was a book that fell on top of Y/N and I in the library and the words kept moving-” Grim was cut off by Vil who’s eyebrows raised up in alarm.

“A Sentient book? Did they open it?”

“If you would let me finish- yes! They did! Y/N ran up to our room and when I went in there to collect them to come here, the book was open and they were missing!” Grim started out quickly, ears falling to the sides as they thought of their poor henchman, being kidnapped or even worse! Having gone back to their world without saying goodbye to him!

Riddle stood up abruptly out from his hair and sighed. “Let us go then, if Prefect needs our help, we will give it. Just as they have helped us through our overblots.” Though, he could hear some grunts of displeasure around the table.

“Nehhh~... Whats in it for us though?” Floyd’s voice came out, looking bored as ever as he stood near this little popup cart that Azul set up for Jade and him to run. At hearing a price to help Y/N, others began to agree until a flash of lightning hit the tree not too far and trailed after a large boom of thunder. Malleus was not impressed by the company he was in, and quickly proved to change their minds. The answer was clear;

Help Y/N or get Smited Down by the King of Briar Valley.

It's a good thing they of course all loved you very much! 

So here they stand, Grim pointing down to the book accusingly as he sat on Deuce’s shoulders. Leona, Vil, Rook, Riddle, The Tweels, Azul and All of Diasomina stood within your room. All accusingly staring down at your book with mixed faces of confusion, annoyance, and regret. While the book was still open, still had the mask and diamond ring upon its sparkling surface with the sentence below it

Choose One.

“Do you really think Y/N chose one?” Ace would ask out curiously, reaching forward only for his hand to be stopped by Rook who was smiling at him. 

“Mon ami, you wouldn't want to toy with what you don't know, oui?” Rook lightly scolded Ace who only huffed and pulled his hand away from the blonde frenchman. 

“Its sad that I didnt teach more about Sentient books to our little potato. Mayap they would’ve learned that messing with such forms of magic is forbidden- Especially when it hits your head in the library.” Vil would sigh out as he looked over the items. What could a mask and diamond ring have to do with anything? Did Y/N take something? If they did, what was it?

“I do not see the issue with these items. Certainly it must be easy to collect Y/N.” Malleus would state as he would reach forward and grab the mask. Being a man with powerful magic, he didnt instantly get knocked down but it did temper with his magic. Sebek was immediately alerted by this and attempted to grab the mask to protect his master. Silver reached out to do the same and Lilia was there to catch Malleus’ fall before they all were transported in. Their souls became little wisps that were shot straight into the book while the mask stayed floating before crumbing into dust.

“Well, I understand now.” Deuce would state out and shake his head. The last one was the diamond ring. Leona’s hand was first to grab it. 

“There is no way that damn lizard is going to save Y/N. I’ll be the one to do it.” Yet Vil, Rook, Riddle, Azul and the Tweels were grabbing after him. They wanted their share of glory in helps of finding their beloved Prefect. Afterall, the King and the Prince shouldn't have all the glory now, nor all the fun- Could they?

As their souls turned to wisps, they all shot into the book as Ace, Deuce and Grim watched this debacle happen before their very eyes. With a loud bang, they all came to realize that the book had shut itself and a title appeared before the Adeuce gang.

The Phantom of The Opera.

[etsuven]

rating: fluff cw: none includes: childe, kaeya summary: the month of love has just passed, but i still can't help but wonder what type of kisses fit these genshin men...

note: was this supposed to be a valentines day thing? maybe... but its out now! just a tadddd bit later than originally intended... this was ALSO originally supposed to include venti and kazuha as well as four others but i really need to force myself to post since its been over 30 days and get over this awful writers block please someone tell me HOWWWWW this is awful im so sorry ill try to do better in future posts

Childe: I Miss You Kiss

you're waiting for him at the docks of snezhnaya, your heart pounding in your chest as the sound of the ship horn reached your ears. bouncing on your toes, you rubbed your hands together, trying to preserve some kind of warmth in your already numb hands.

the ship is getting closer, and you can only feel yourself getting more and more worked up as time went on. why were you so excited? you were able to finally see your fiance after weeks of sending letters of love back and forth. it was a coincidence that the ship was coming back right on valentine's day, it wasn't something you were complaining about.

you watched in excitement as the ship docked, a bridge laying out in preparation for its occupants to walk out. and walk out they did, but one seemed to be a bit more eager than the others, his ginger hair standing out from the pale white you had quickly gotten used to.

before you knew it, you were enveloped in his arms, his signature scent reaching your nose and making you inhale sharply. he was finally home... a gloved hand found its way onto your cheek, and you were quickly pulled into a kiss that made you let out a silent sigh. it was a sweet kiss, something that told millions of words without actually saying anything at all.

how are you? how have you been? i've missed you.

though you couldn't say anything right now, you were more than willing to do so later- however many times it took for him to truly understand it. you were going to spend your whole lives together anyways, ten thousand more 'i miss you's' wouldn't be that hard of a thing to achieve.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Kaeya: Tension Kiss

you and kaeya had a strange relationship, something bridging on the gap between friends and lovers. the tension between the two of you wasn't normal, and you've always hoped that behind those teasing words- were actual feelings.

kaeya was a naturally charming man. a fan favorite amongst the citizens of mondstadt, he indulged in the attention, though he never seemed to take it further than a few sweet words. at least, that's how he was with everyone else.

he was different with you... light touches that made your heart flutter in your chest, teasing words that made you retaliate back with words of your own. you weren't the only one who noticed how the (in)famous cavalry captain acted around you. in fact, one of those people was his own brother.

having grew up with the man, diluc wasn't a stranger to changes in his brothers' behavior. under the guise of wanting to keep kaeya from coming from him once more in a drunken rant (that's the reason he used to explain why he was doing what he was doing. it was a lie.) diluc decided to subtly reveal to you how strange he thought kaeya was being.

"he seems to be different around you, but i can't seem to figure out why. perhaps you should ask him." those were the words he told you, and while you did feel that there was some sort of ulterior motive as to why he even mentioned that, you still decided to listen to his advice.

and that brings us to tonight. kaeya was walking you home after a long night at the bar, and his reason as to why he wanted to do this was, "you had a few drinks, it would be improper of me to let you walk home by yourself, no?"

you initiated small talk, the conversation flowing smoothly between the two of you. eventually you made it to your front door, a small sigh leaving your lips once you realized that your time together was almost done. but you still had one more thing to do.

the question left your lips slowly, almost as if you were scared that he would shut you down the second you spoke. perhaps you were scared. you asked if there was a reason as to why he seemed so different with you. kaeya's uncovered eye widened with every word, eventually settling on looking to the side as you finished speaking.

you gave him time to process your words, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you closed your eyes. seconds later, you were startled by the feeling of a slightly cool hand on your cheek. peeking an eye open, you watched as kaeya leaned in, a slightly flustered look on his face as he glanced down at your lips.

oh. so that's why he was acting this way.

"may i?" he asked, a slight tremble in his voice. you nodded slowly, taking the initiative and leaning in to kiss him. his lips were soft, and it almost seemed like they were made to perfectly fit yours. you shivered a bit, both because of the cold and because you were a tad bit nervous. but still, you didn't dare pull away.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[riostwsty]

" I'll make up to you... "

Summary: Jamil does nothing but work all day, everyday. Luckily he can always rely on his partner at times when he feels beyond exausted. word count 1.6k + Keywords: fluff, scenario, romance, third person narrator, g/n reader (you/yours), established relationship, reader not implied Yuu/MC Characters: Jamil x reader CWs: none, just comfort I think

Your footsteps echoes in the halls of Scarabia, moonlight and the shimmer of a thousand stars illuminated your path by the windows beside. Kalim had asked for help with a big project for Astrology class, and there you were, only managing to finish a little before 1 am struck, and as you were heading back to your room, decided to pay a visit to the dorm's kitchen for a cup of water and a (post) midnight snack.

There was a strange sight however, upon arriving there, of a Jamil Viper standing unmoving behind the counter, staring expressionless at his feet.

—"Jamil! I haven't seen you all day, where have you been?"— you asked. He didn't even flinch at the sound of your voice, but you continued regardless —"You didn't read any of my messages, I was actually starting to get worried, haha... Jamil?"—

The lack of response made you reluctantly approach, getting nearer, you made sense of the situation at hand... more or less.

He stared at four pieces of bread fallen face down on the floor. Stared as if they had insulted him in seven different languages. Glancing back and forth to the floor and his face, all you could muster was a "Wha..."

—"I wanted toast"— he muttered to himself —"why."—

You picked up the bread, hopefully to break the weird trance your boyfriend was in, and looked for a garbage bin to discard them. He furrowed his brows, at last truly acknowledging your presence. You imitaded his expression back —"It's way past the five second rule, come on."—

He sighed, leaning on the counter with arms crossed and resting his head on them like a makeshift pillow, face down. It was fairly obvious what it meant, and a bit unease, you already knew what to do in situations like it.

—"wanna talk about your day?"—

—"hm."— Jamil grunted quietly, taking in a deep breath as he counted on his fingers —"Final history test. Didn't submit Crewel's project in time. Laundry. Dishes. Cancelled Basketball practice."—

—"That's quite the list..."—

—" 's only half of it"—

You leaned on the counter next to him, with a half embrace, rubbing circles on his back with one hand. —"I came here for a midnight snack before going to bed, but I can also make you some hot chocolate while I'm at it. How's that sound?"—

His posture changed to the offering, looking up at the ceiling as if carefully calculating his response, but then slowly shaking his head in hesitant disapproval —"...Must consume milk under three days... once opened.... Such a waste."— His speech was slurred from the sheer exaustion, stumbling over his words while you tried to make sense of the conversation —"... don' worry... I eat the floor toast. thanks."— he then let all the weight of his head fall at once on the counter with a comically loud thud to end the discussion right then and there.

Needless to say, this has happened a fair amount of times before. The vice housewarden often gets too caught up in his responsabilities to even remember taking breaks, and when his partner is not around to give reminders, well... the situation only escalates to the worst. In comparison to his usual serious, responsible and ever flawless image, he'd become completely out of touch due to the fatigue accumulated througout the day, walking and speaking as if his conciousness hang by a thread, threatening to give in at every second passed.

Jamil constantly fought to keep the solemn demeanor, but one can only go so far, after all, he's human too. He'd rather dissappear than ever be caught acting as anything but the picture perfect mask he held in front of others, and that drained ridiculous amounts of energy the longer he kept up the performance.

You took his face on your hands and brought him closer to inspect his drowsy state. He struggled to keep his vision focused, and it gave the impression of the bags under his eyes to be darker than usual. He noticed you press your lips in a thin line and squint your eyes as you observed with worry. Jamil hadn't even begun to lose himself in the tender moment, of your warm hands caressing his skin so affectionately, when you rapidly turned your attention to the kitchen cabinets to take all the ingredients for that previously mentioned hot chocolate offer, making him click his tongue in annoyance.

—"[name], I told you I-"—

—"Jamil, stop worrying about wasting ingredients from the pantry, and allow yourself to enjoy a well deserved treat for once"— you interrupted —"you're tense. you should relax before heading to bed, or else you won't get a good night's rest"—

He scoffed, approaching from behind and shutting with both hands another cabinet you were about to open, like that consequently closing the space between you two, as he glared as best as he could at your surprised expression now centimeters away from his face.

It was an embarrassing position to be in, between the cabinet and Jamil you couldn't move, caged between his arms so he was sure you'd look at him the eye. Yes, it would be almost intimidating, that is, if his mind hadn't gone blank from his sleep deprived state, only managing to muster a single "ssstop." accompanied by a tired pout.

—"Nop"— you pushed him back gently —"You go sit down somewhere. I'll take care of things now"—

==

Both of your hands were occupied as you made your way around the dorm. One holding Jamil's mug and the other holding his hand, guiding him like a lost puppy. By the time you reached the boy's room, he seemed to have finally given up complaining, and was resting his head on your shoulder, barely keeping himself up. You instructed him to sit at the edge of the bed, handing him the hot beverage, while you took a seat behind, and began to undo his messy braids and ponytail with care.

The quietness between interactions was by no means uncomfortable anymore, at this stage of the relationship, they were reassuruing moments that told words weren't needed when you two understood each other so well. It was true, reading a person like Jamil was no easy task, yet you did it so effortlessly. Still, that didn't mean he was a completely open book in any way.

After undoing the braids, you took a brush to untangle any knots left in his hair. Once you noticed the tension on his shoulders was beggining to dissipate, you decided to gather a bit of courage to ask something that had been bothering you for quite some time.

—"Why are you always so eager to refuse any help from me?"— you broke the silence —"You're barely managing to keep yourself up by the end of the week, yet you still..."—

You sighed, not feeling the need to complete the sentence. Jamil didn't respond right away, only tapping his fingers on the mug in hand as if counting the seconds passed from the unanswered question.

—"I'm used to... doing that"— he took a sip from the hot chocolate —"you feel bothered by it?"—

—"It's just that you do so much for everyone. You do so much for me and-"— you interrupted youself, wondering what words to use to accurately describe your thoughts on the matter —"and it feels like the efforts are unbalanced, you know? It's unfair."—

His eyes darted across the room, seeking to be fixed anywhere but to your direction.

—"...can't say I feel the same way"— he mumbled.

You sighed softly, letting the quiet atmosphere to sink in once more.

Growing up as a servant for the Asim family, constantly having to look after others and never prioritizing himself, barely taking any breaks- for sure these responsabilities took deep roots on his subconscious, wether he noticed it or not, no matter how much he believed he deserved better, there was always a voice in the back of his mind, telling the exact contrary. Ordering him to hold the act for just a little while longer, to work a bit more, and above all, to do it all alone. It was HIS duty and no one else's.

But among crowds you only had eyes on him. And among layers of deception you knew what he really felt. Saw the burden he'd much prefer for you to ignore it.

—"well, you know I love you very much"— you added weakly, taking the now empty cup from his hands and placing it on the drawer beside the bed, along with the hairbrush you had just finished using —"maybe we can talk about this tomorrow, once you're well rested?"—

In no time Jamil turned around from his spot on the bed and tackled you down on the matresses with him, hugging your frame like a body pillow.

—"promise to remind me-"— he added drowsy as he finally allowed his heavy eyelids to shut —"I'll make up to you tomorrow"—

—"yeah, promise."— in no hesitation, you lied. As you had done times before, in this scenario you felt no guilt in doing so. For there was no need to have your favor ever be payed back by Jamil. Taking care of him was no task, much less one to be returned in feeling of obligation.

It was something he couldn't wrap his head around. The fact that someone would do such things, all purely out of love for him. There was still a long way to go until he could even begin to truly understand, your adoration for him was not a matter of exchange, but one of heart.

You ran your fingers through his hair until he was fast asleep, and prepared yourself to join in soon, waiting for morning to wake you to another busy day, that by the end of it, you'd be willing to repeat the same nightly routine over and over again, if so needed, and if he would allow it.

[erisenyo]

for the ask game: 8, 29, 40!

For this Fic Writers Ask Game!

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Not making me choose my favorite bit of my favorite thing to write lol. I was torn between the last chapter of To Cleave These Roots We've Made when Sokka and Katara finally talk and Sokka's emotions finally break containment, because I worked on that scene a lot and I'm really pleased with how the pacing and flow came out along with the emotional beats, and the way it ended up being about Sokka and Zuko but also about Sokka and Katara, too.

But I would have just pasted in like, thousands of words, so, here is the name reveal from Part-Time Plumber, Full-Time Problem, because I'm really pleased with the way I managed to get four people all talking over top of each other without losing the pacing or the interpersonal beats:

“Sokka what the hell,” Suki says over top of them, some mix of amazed and horrified and fuck, there’s no way Katara isn’t going to hear about this. “You broke out the nicknames so early you never even got his name?” That—when she puts it that way—in his defense— “What have you been calling him?” Mai is asking Z, looking fascinated despite herself. Zuko just glowers. “Look,” Sokka says testily as Suki continues to stare at him like she wants to put him in a jar and study him forever. “When you meet someone under unusual circumstances—” “And then meet him like eight more times the same way! How did you never introduce yourself!” “Why would I introduce myself!” Sokka shouts, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “I already knew him!” “Zuko, please don’t tell me you’ve been calling him dude when you’re fucking,” Mai says. “Fine,” Zuko huffs, going to cross his arms and immediately reconsidering when his cheese pile wobbles. “I won’t.” “Oh my god,” Suki says, catching the edge of their conversation and staring with wide eyes before turning back to Sokka. “Have you been calling him buddy when you—” “First off,” Sokka cuts in, putting his nose in the air. “I don’t see how it’s your business.” Mai snorts. “With how much you’re always calling her?” “Second off—she calls me just as much and I have the call logs to prove it.” “He does,” Suki admits. “Third off—so what’s an ironic buddy here and there,” Sokka says, making his tone reasonable, inquiring. “Fucking hell,” Z—Zuko—says, tilting his head back to the sky as Suki and Mai groan.   “Haven’t we all called someone dude in our time?” “No,” Mai says firmly. “We haven’t.” “What’s a little ‘buddy’ amongst—" “Oh my god!” Suki exclaims in sudden, horrified understanding. “You committed to the bit! You committed too hard! You have been calling him buddy while you—”

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

*Side eyes my history of writing endings to stories that are unfinished that I loved...*

This is a tough one, but I absolutely adore People in the Mirror by Nele, it's truly an amazing piece of writing at all levels. I regularly reread it and stare longingly into the distance imagining what could come next, and...I might have a bit of an AU of an AU in the works for this one, actually lol

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

Ignoring the alternate ending of The Mortifying Ordeal of (Your Ships) Being Known I provided in the end notes lol...

This is actually quite hard for me, because I find endings difficult so by the time I finally land on one I tend to really like it, and if I have other thoughts they're basically sequels lol.

But I went back and forth a lot on whether to end (With Wonder and Care) Reach for Far-Flung Dreams with a proposal or not. I ultimately decided no, it would either happen when Sokka asks if a proposal is next after finding out that Zuko built in time for the gift shop (which would have resulted in Zuko choking and getting flustered and a few disbelieving exchanges and Zuko complaining about Sokka ruining the surprise before finally getting down on one knee there instead of at the display of moon rock rings he would have strategically made sure Sokka wandered over to), or after the multi-day space camp adventure is completed, Sokka graduating (alongside all the middle schoolers lol) to find Zuko has built the proposal into the graduation ceremony in a Very Large Planned Big Gesture the type of which Sokka loves.

[rainsmediaradio]

Joseph Prince Daily Devotional 23rd November 2023 - Thanksgiving Can Raise the Dead!

TOPIC: Thanksgiving Can Raise the Dead! Scripture:John 11:41–42 . . . And Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. And I know that You always hear Me . . .

DAILY GRACE INSPIRATION 23RD NOVEMBER 2023

After Jesus had said these words, He cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” And the man who had been dead for four days came out of his tomb! This is one of the greatest miracles that Jesus performed. Lazarus had been dead for four days when Jesus raised him to life. Wouldn’t you agree that death is indeed an extreme problem? Facing a financial need, being sick and losing your job, bad as they are, are not as final as being dead! But what I want you to see is this: If Jesus, in the most extreme of problems, shows us that the solution is still, “Father, I thank You,” then how much more should we thank God in the midst of the less serious problems we face. If thanksgiving can raise the dead, then let us give thanks in spite of the negative circumstances and we will see victory. Unfortunately, we tend to do the opposite—murmur and complain. But murmuring and complaining only magnify the problem. Thanksgiving, on the other hand, is the language of faith which pleases God. I am not saying that we give thanks for the problems we have. No, we thank God that He is our answer and that He has already given every blessing to us (Eph. 1:3). “But Pastor Prince, what I have is so little.” My friend, thank God for the little you have and it will multiply. Jesus thanked His Father for the five barley loaves and two small fish, a little boy’s lunch, and they were multiplied to feed more than five thousand people with twelve baskets full of leftovers (John 6:8–13)! And notice that when the Holy Spirit talked about this event again, He specifically mentioned the Lord giving thanks—“the place where they ate bread after the LORD had given thanks” (John 6:23). The Holy Spirit seemed to be more pleased with the act of giving thanks than the miracle of multiplication or the twelve baskets full of leftovers. Beloved, the more you thank God, the more you please Him. What little you have will be multiplied and whatever is dead in your life will be raised to life! Read the full article

[areallybadwriter]

12/26

I write this from AZ where my dad’s side of the family lives, about to sleep. I was supposed to fly back home today but my flight, along with a thousand others, was cancelled and we scrambled to find accommodations. my dad flew back to where he lives tonight and i am flying out tomorrow.

arizona has been a lot of fun and its always really good to see this side of the family as i feel closer with them in terms of values and hobbies. we are a family full of artists so its very refreshing being able to talk about art with them and also there is a common disdain for some of my fathers actions or words that i feel comfortable relating to them on. its nice to hear that others also are disappointed by the way he acts sometimes. my 87 year old grandma is also out here, who lived a great life and passed a desire for art and aesthetics to the rest of us. i don't get to spend nearly enough time with her as we live thousands of miles away so its so nice to see her and talk with her. we spent a lot of time looking at old photos of her family and my late grandfathers family (dating back to the 1800s) so that was sooooo cool and ill cherish that forever. some of the names of ancestors were really cool too and if i ever did consider having kids (unlikely) i’d get my inspiration from the registries we have. i also gifted my grandma a book that i had handmade in my bookmaking/photography course so that we could use it as a shared notebook, sending it back and forth between us. she seemed to love it and already drew something for me to “respond” to so im very excited to start that. my dad thanked me for the way i treated her which surprised me as she is my grandmother who i highly value (a trait i think he could borrow). and because she, and the rest of the family, is out here in phoenix and not the midwest anymore, i would definitely consider moving out here if the circumstances worked out. the air and the sun and the landscape help clear my head (and my skin) and i don't feel the same worries and emotional coils i do in the cold, cloudy midwest. my cousin is also getting married in march out here to the sweetest boy ever and i couldn't be more excited for them. i also love weddings and i get to bring my best friend so i think it'll be lots of fun. 

I am officially graduated from college which is crazy and it doesn't feel quite real yet. i didn't attend the graduation ceremony because i was not about to spend $100+ dollars on renting a cap and gown and dragging all of my willing family members to that in the dead of winter. i do hope i get some gifts, mostly money for traveling, but if anything it's really nice to be celebrated a little after a grueling four and a half years. now i just have to figure out what im doing and make money. yay!

I met up with ex b a couple days before i left for arizona, which i was surprised to do but it was a lot of fun. i had gotten a little wine drunk a few weeks ago and mentioned meeting up to catch up and at the time, he did not seem into it at all so i dropped it quickly. but he texted me about a week after and continued the conversation on it so i figured why not? we were both back in the hometown (we met in high school) so it wasn't the easiest to figure out what to do, especially because he didn't want to go into the city for anything. we ended up settling on a townie bar in the town over. when we showed up, about 50 carhartt rednecks stared at us intruding on their karaoke night, so we found a quiet booth in the back. i got a jamo & coke, which ended up being very strong, and he got a beer. its always very easy for us to slip back into comfortableness around each other (we did date on and off since 2017), but i was wary after this last summer. i don't remember if ive mentioned it previously on this blog but it as exes do, we were hooking up and hanging out again and it was bad on my brain. he also was going through a patch of absolute selfishness (which is ok, he needs more of that), so we were clashing pretty hard by the end of it and the fallout was messy. but, we were able to talk about all that and speak about our lives and dreams and it was really, really nice. now, i proposed it as completely platonic which is genuinely ok with me as the rest of my life is quite hard to manage at the moment but i couldn't read whether it was purely friendship or not. he touched me a lot and made a lot of callbacks to memories and things we had done during our relationship and even towards the end of the night prompted the “what now” question as we were both staying at our family homes and couldn't go back anywhere. i don't know if he meant what i thought he meant but we have plans to see each other again some point soon. it honestly was really nice and he is still one of my favorite people and will always be a great person to have in my life. we’ll see where that goes, if anywhere.

another meet up that is hopefully happening is one ive waited on for quite awhile. wyoming is home for christmas and apparently staying until mid-january. i told him that i would literally stop talking to him (we talk every day still) if we didn't see each other, as there's a lot of effort being put into our relationship, whatever it is, and i will not continue to try if there's no promise of seeing each other in person when its possible. i would say that im pretty committed to the idea - i worry too committed at times - and would try very hard to make this work if he shows that he wants it as much as i do. ever since we started talking again, i think he has shown that and has said some things i wouldn't dare to even dream of (but who am i kidding, i think about him all the time) that have urged to me to at least try. there is a promise we will see each other, but its just hard knowing whether he wants it as much and i am simply waiting for him to make the effort to plan something. we live less than a mile away from each other in our hometown so its safe to say I'll be livid if something doesn't happen. and with everything we’ve discussed up to this point, it'd be stupid not to see each other. i am scared that i will show all my cards up front, not that i haven't started already over the phone, and make a fool of myself. i know that we are better friends than that at this point and there are bigger concerns, but i think back to how giddy my 16 year old self was at the thought of him and can't say that i won't revert back to that feeling. corny as it sounds, i have never ever been so delighted than at the feeling of his hands on me. a few weeks ago, he was drunk and told me that bottom line if he felt as much as i did (the big one) that he would never be the first one to say it. as ive relished in it since we were 16, i told him i had no problem saying it first, and about a week later i did. i was also a little inebriated and absolutely terrified, but i said “i do love u” (just like that) and then went to bed. i didn't feel bad about it in the morning, no regret, and would say it a thousand times over if he wanted me to. in a way, it was nice for me to finally get it out there - it had been a thought of mine for so long that i forgot that it was real. he didn't say it back automatically which was absolutely grueling but i knew he felt the same way and was secure enough to not really need to hear it. he had shown me. but in an air of warning almost, he did say it back and basically told me he was scared to start something official as it meant losing me one way or another. i didn't tell him this, but i think not starting something also means losing me. ive kept it in so long and now ive finally said it and i feel like my heart is bursting and i just want to keep going. i said it again a couple days ago when he was driving home from wyoming (in one go, mind you) because i figured it was a hard drive and no way would i have let him get into an accident or something without saying it again. and i will say it again and again and again because i love it. and at this point in my life, i really don't care. if im going to try, im not going to half ass it or not feel it as strongly as i do. one of us could die tomorrow. so in the mean time i will say “i love you” until i can't anymore. 

gracie did in fact pass away a few weeks ago. we hired a vet who specialized in the process to come out to the house and do it there, where the puppy was comfortable and safe at home. she was scared and i think somewhat understood what was going on, as i had been coming home a lot more and goodbyes from the kids were said the night before. i don't think she would've made it through the weekend anyways. it happened on a friday at 1 pm, and she passed laying on her favorite blanket in her favorite spot on the couch. she got a brownie and a lot of oyster crackers on her way out. the worst part was seeing my mom and step dad cry, and the way the vet and my dad carried her out to the car after the process was done. i had never ever felt pain like that before and while its easy to push it away after all of the shit ive coped with, there's a twinge every time i think about her or see other dogs. it feels wrong to be in the house without her and i don't know how my parents do it. i have some of her fur and i want to have it with me in some way, maybe a locket or build-a-bear. my way of coping is to make or consume art (as well as write about it i guess) so i do want to get a tattoo remembering her at some point, but the wound is too fresh right now. where does all the love go for her? i carry it with me like a weight. 

next update will hopefully be a bit more lighthearted and will hopefully have big updates to things that ive been wanting to happen or change for awhile. 

xoxo anonymous

[itaehynz]

INFRUNAMI !

SIX • oh my goodness

-

an hour before the fair: friday, 17:29

-

“THE FERRIS WHEEL LOOKS A LOT BIGGER THIS YEAR DOESN’T IT?”, you say with much amusement in your voice.

"yeah it does look a little bigger than last year…” chaewon states while plugging in the cotton candy machine, looking back and forth between you & the ferris wheel.

you look up from the register, seeing chaeyoung & jiung coming towards your stand at what you’re assuming is their full speed. as your eyes slowly widen & your brows slightly furrow in confusion, they finally approach your register.

"YN. today is a big day for you pookie… and we’re here to guide you." jiung says with a huge grin on his face and in the corner of your eye, you also see chaeyoung nodding her head with a smirk on her face.

-

now you’re here. several people lined up at your stand, asking for blue or pink cotton candy or maybe even a mix! but you have yet to see yeonjun… it’s like he’s not here? you start to think that but as soon as you see a tall purple haired male with four others right behind him… 'is that soobin?' you think to yourself.

all questions you had were answered once you see yeonjun coming into view. he has glasses on? you begin to feel butterflies in your stomach & can’t help but smile to yourself. you see yeonjun looking around, so you assume he’s trying to find you? you tap on chaewon's shoulder & say, "i’ll be back, okay?", she nods her head & smiles at you.

you watch as yeonjun's group separates & yeonjun begins walking around by himself. you slowly begin to approach him with a huge smile on your face, yeonjun looks to his right & sees you. he starts to smile as well & goes in for a hug, of course you accepted his embrace as you hug him back. no words have been said yet but it’s like a thousand have already been spoken.

after a couple seconds, yeonjun pulls away from the hug first, "you look nice", he says. "thank you but i’m literally wearing an apron?", you state with slight confusion in your voice, "i still think you look nice", he states as he grabs your hand & begins to walk towards the teacups.

-

"WAIT, so ALLLLLL of the years that we’ve been friends. you NEVER decided to tell me that you didn’t like CORNDOGS?" you question him in shock while still standing at the corndog stand.

"i’m pretty sure i did, you probably just forgot”, he states. "i would never forget what are you even talking about." you say with a slight eyeroll, you guys start to finish up your corndogs/pretzels/cotton candy (whatever you like to get!)

"OH MY GOD. the ferris wheel’s open. LETS GET ON IT PLEASE", you say with excitement obvious in your voice & on your face. "YEAH SURE LET’S GO!" yeonjun says with a huge smile on his face.

you guys begin to run over to the line that has formed in only just a few seconds & see jiung taking peoples tickets.

you & yeonjun quickly make it to the front of the line as jiung sees you both approach him slowly with your tickets in hand. a smirk starts to appear on his face as he states, "why hello there yn!". you bite back a smile as you respond to him with "hey jiung…"

yeonjun notices this awkward interaction and can’t help but watch. jiung looks over at yeonjun & his smirk grows wider, "wanna introduce me to your friend?" jiung states playfully. "jiung, meet yeonjun! yeonjun. meet jiung!" you say with your eyes narrowed at jiung.

"hi jiung", yeonjun states with a small smile. "hi yeonjun", jiung says with the same smirk on his face, "welcome to the ferris wheel of dreams & wonders", he says winking at you. you roll your eyes slightly and walk onto a cart while yeonjun giggles slightly.

you & yeonjun sit down next to each other and watch as the ferris wheel begins to slowly make its way up.

the ferris wheel is halfway to the top & you begin to see all of the beautiful lights shimmering from the fair. you stare in awe & look over to see yeonjun smiling at you. "what?" you ask with a slight smile. "nothing i just find it cute how you’re staring at the lights & stuff—" yeonjun stops. 'i just called them cute' he thinks to himself. 'he just called me cute' you think to yourself.

"thank you yeonjun", you say with a huge grin on your face.

-

the ferris wheel has officially come to an end & so has your break. you and yeonjun hop off the ferris wheel & begin to walk back over to your stand. "i’m glad you took time off to come with me, i had fun with you!" yeonjun says with a faint blush on his face. "i’m glad i took time off too! i had a lot of fun with you as well!" you say as you end your sentence off with a small hum.

"i unfortunately have to go back to my stand now", you say with a slight frown, "i know i know, i’ll walk you back over!" yeonjun states.

-

you guys walk for a few minutes & now you’re back at your stand. you see chaewon watching with a huge smile on her face, "welp, this is it! i’ll call you or see at school okay?", you say with a grin on your face. "okay yn, i’ll call first of course! i’ll see you later." yeonjun says. you start to think your night with yeonjun is really gonna end here right before he pulls you in for a warm hug.

once again, who are you to decline this beautiful embrace? you wrap your arms around his torso accepting his hug. as he begins to hold you slightly tighter than it started off as, you start to feel fuzzy. like you’re floating on cloud 9. but you can tell the hug and your night is officially coming now because yeonjun pulls away with a sigh & a smile on his face. "bye yn" he says. "bye jun!" you say as you begin to walk back inside your stand.

oh man… you definitely loved how tonight went.

prev + masterlist + next!

taglist: @recreatiun @blahbluhblahbluh @iheartsxna @shiggyscumdump @moaberryjjunie @yeonqt @ioszzn @luvsoobs @boba-beom @nobodyshallenter

notes: this chapter was so long omg.

[writeshite]

Ok so i had to get this thought out of my head. What if Eddie and Venom had a boyfriend that was a.....tall beefy four armed alien......ok I'll leave

Headcanons for Eddie and Venom With a Four-Armed Alien Boyfriend With a Tail

Pairings:

Eddie Brock/Venom x Male!Reader

Words: 835

Author's Note:

I am living for the fact that the collective mindset seems to revolve around Eddie having a giant beefy boyfriend. We live for that shit.

We all know Eddie and Venom are certified himbos, so a tall beefy four-armed alien with a tail is a dream come true to them. You met how many people met; you broke into his apartment, and they found you asleep on their couch. Now, Venom, surprisingly, was the voice of reason.

“Eddie, there is a stranger in our apartment, and he’s eaten through half of our meat!”

See, Eddie wasn’t listening; he was focusing more on your tail, which was swishing back and forth as you curled up the pillow in your arms. That and also you were bleeding purple blood on their couch. Despite Venom’s protests, Eddie crept towards you, reaching out to inspect you. Without warning, your eyes shot open, and he found himself pinned underneath you.

You growled at him, sharp teeth, hissing, slit pupils, claws digging into his skin as your tail applied pressure to his legs. ‘Still think this was a good idea?’ Venom’s mocking question was followed by a shut up from Eddie.

“Hey..so...you were bleeding, and I just wanted to help and if you could maybe stop squeezing me like a pincushion.” he gasped out that last part, as your hold on him had grown tighter. Now, at this point, Eddie should’ve let Venom take over, but some part of his mind likened you with a cat, so like he would with a cat, he reached out and scratched the back of your ear. The next thing he knew, he had a massive pound of muscle fall on top of him.

Yeah, Eddie saw this giant four-armed injured person and his mind went cat. Venom was unhappy about this; he complained the whole time as Eddie wrapped your injuries, reluctantly helping to move you from the couch to the bed, where there was more room.

After that, he went out to replace the meat you’d gone through; this time, when he came back to his apartment, it was to you standing in his apartment looking around in confusion. As soon as he came within arms’ reach, you lifted him off the ground, which Venom took as hostility. The symbiote surfaced and was growling something fierce, which in perspective was kind of like a chihuahua growling at a husky. You paid him no mind, doing the same thing you did to Eddie; you picked Venom up.

“You’re a funny-looking thing.” you muttered, “Don’t think I’ve seen one of your kind for decades.”

Venom struggled in your grasp, squirming as you poked him. “Put me down!”

You ignored him in favor of continuing whatever it was you were doing, when Venom hissed at you and bared his teeth, you hissed right back, and truth be told, the symbiote kind of found it hot.

‘What happened to him being dangerous?’ Eddie taunted.

Venom squinted his eyes, ignoring the taunt and all the others as he let himself be maneuvered by you into a semi-cuddle, hug thing.

After some introductions and some explanations, the three of you had come to understand each other. You’d been injured while trying to escape SHIELD and kind of just broken into the first place you saw, which happened to be Eddie and Venom’s place.

With all that down, there was only one thing to do, help you hide from SHIELD. This was mainly out of a sense of obligation to help; it wasn’t like Eddie and Venom were already kind of in love.

They were so in love. Maybe that was their problem; they fell in love too quickly; one look at your arms and Eddie was thinking of a thousand different things, not limited to but including if you had double the number of arms, did you also have double the number of dicks?

This thought often haunted him, as he sneaked what he hoped were subtle glances, while Venom told him he was not in any way being subtle. As if Venom could talk, Eddie was 99% sure the symbiote was thinking it too.

“Yes,” you muttered one morning as you walked into the kitchen.

Eddie lowered the bread in his hand and turned to you in confusion, “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I do have two dicks.”

Eddie felt his entire face go beet red; how did you know? He didn’t say anything, did he? Venom didn’t say anything unless he did, but he wouldn’t.

“No, he wouldn’t,” you said, “You didn’t have to; I can hear both your thoughts running in there.” You came up behind Eddie, pressing your body against his; Eddie gulped when he felt the distinct bulge of something big. “If you like, I could give you a personal showcase.”

Eddie woke up a couple of hours later to the afternoon sun and snuggled up close between you and Venom. Later on, the symbiote would regale him with the details, which summed up came down to; Eddie got railed, Venom got railed, and you left enough marks on his body, he might as well be a crime scene.

Bonjour my Croissants 🥐

Look, at this point I think we can all agree that Eddie and Venom will swoon over anyone whose taller, beefier and can deadlift them. Remember Requests are Open.

Thank you for reading my shite. Stay Hydrated.

[runner-owen]

You are drawn into the darkness by the music. No human in this stolen castle should be awake at this hour, the magnificent old clock rocking the minutes back and forth between one and four. Yet there it is. A violin cries in the eternal night, over the desperate fury beyond the walls.

It pulls your soul, even though you know already who is playing that sad, sad song.

At the edge of the room you linger, falling into a crouch to stay out of sight. This sitting room, half repaired, half transformed, is not unfamiliar to you. A fire dies in the hearth, burning low like the blue glinting crystal lamps. In the center of the room he stands, his long dark hair flowing free of the ribbon that usually held it, his worn and handsome face strained.

You can't look away from him. There embodies a tragedy in his music you cannot understand. It unsettles you. He is not as old as his music makes him seem. After all, he's only human.

Mid-note, he stops, and sighs, face wrinkling.

"You are a stubborn little pest, aren't you?"

You jolt. When did he and how did he notice you were here?

"Bad enough you scared me from my horse and injured my leg," he said, pulling the violin from his shoulder. "Now you follow me to my place of temporary sanctuary?"

"It was an accident," you whisper.

He looks at you, Locke Hepatica, and he looks tired.

"Nothing is ever an accident," he says, and there's only exhaustion in his words.

You stand from your crouch. He tenses but doesn't move. You don't either.

"Why are you here, fledgling?" He asks.

"The music," you say.

"Ah." He nods, sets the violin down. "I imagine you were not trying to avoid the actual question, which is what you're doing at Black Velvet Manor."

"Oh!" You blink. "I'm not allowed to talk about that."

He grins. "I hope you know that explains more than you realize."

Before he can speak again, he cringes. The man falls back onto the couch, face bracing with pain, and you reach for him without thinking. Hepatica shakes his head. A moment and then another and he sighs, leaning his head backwards onto the couch.

"I'm so sorry," you blurt out. "I didn't mean any of this!"

He smiles at the ceiling. "There are no accidents," he says.

There is nothing now but the smell of dust and soap, the restless fire and the furious storm beyond the walls of the former vampire stronghold.

"Do you know what I was playing, just now?" Hepatica asks.

"It was beautiful," you say. "It was sad."

"It was about the Goddess," he says. "And her husband."

You shift. That's new. You couldn't remember much about humans considering the Goddess's husband. He is merely a vehicle for her suffering, the father of vampires through her. He didn't even have a name. At least She has a thousand titles. He is just… the Evil God.

"What about them?" You ask.

He isn't looking at you still. You could drink from him and he would not be able to stop you in time. But you don't want to hurt him. He is already full of hurt.

"Do you think he regretted it?" Hepatica asks. "After she birthed their last child and died. Do you think he understood what he'd taken from the world?"

"I can't imagine he cared," you say. "He was wicked even for the rest of the Gods."

Hepatica raises his head.

"He is your grandfather," he says, "metaphorically. Isn't he? You worship his children."

"That doesn't mean I have to like him," you say.

He laughs. Something warms in you. It's good that he's laughing. It's better than his sadness.

"You are a strange one," he says. "What kind of vampire says something like that?"

You just shrug. You just smile.

[tobesolonely]

house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit​‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless​ and @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response  to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in. 

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.” 

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.” 

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.” 

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject,  gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own. 

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit. 

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.” 

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side. 

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated. 

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?” 

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment. 

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone. 

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.” 

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.” 

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.” 

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him. 

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow. 

“All good?” 

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him. 

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles. 

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush. 

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

as always, please let me know what you thought here!

[knittingwithhighlighters]

Some musing about epistolary books

Hello everyone! My name is Markiplier KWH, and I’m here to discuss a theory...a book theory. More specficially, lately, I've been reading the Princess Diaries (return to the early 2000s!!). And while I was reading, I noticed something interesting. So, Princess Diaries is an example of an epistolary book, which includes books written in journal or diary entries, logs, newspaper articles, letters, e-mails—so on and so forth. Other examples of epistolary books include Frankenstein, The Martian, Bridget Jones’s Diary...and yes, Dracula. 

(For what it's worth, I subscribed to Dracula Daily more than a month ago, but I haven't even cracked the story open yet.... Good thing I have until November, lol. Maybe I'll start reading it properly once I finish the other four books I've already started.)

One thing I noticed about Princess Diaries—which would apply to many epistolary books in general—is that the protagonists are seemingly able to remember large swathes of conversations they were involved in, and verbatim. Word for word, they're able to remember these huge chunks of dialogue, even though in real life this would be out of the range of possibility for most humans—and even hours or days later, in some cases, depending on when the entries are written in the book.

Of course, a Doylist perspective (out-of-universe/meta) would state that, well, the author(s) wanted the story to flow and go a certain way, and it simply made sense for them to render those conversations within the context of the story. 

A gentler Watsonian perspective (in-universe, named after Sherlock’s right-hand man John Watson) might state that, for example, the character writing the journal isn't remembering all their conversations word-for-word. Instead, they're simply remembering the general gist of conversations, and filing in the blanks after the fact with sentences that would plausibly fit into the gaps in their memory.  

But I thought of it another way, relating to the concept of Required Secondary Powers, as discussed on TV Tropes, a website that catalogs different kinds of tropes and other conventions used in media. (Fair warning: TV Tropes has been known to be addictive; memes about it will go along the lines of, for example, you start reading, and then realize you're still reading it 4 hours later. Will this apply to you, not necessarily. But I just figure I'd throw it out there regardless.) 

Anyway, according to the netizens of TV Tropes, Required Secondary Powers are when, for example, a power with a given supernatural skill would need—if the real-world laws of physics were to apply in their universe—additional, unstated powers to make their explicitly stated powers make scientific sense. To make this clear via illustration, TV Tropes provides the examples of super strength (in real life, you'd need super-strong bones for your super-strong muscles); super speed (you'd need the ability to think as fast as you can move, and a way of naturally preventing friction-induced burns); and invisibility (real-world physics would have it that—if a person was well and truly invisible—they wouldn't be able to see via human eyes).

To wit, this discussion of Princess Diaries, and other epistolary books like it, brings up an interesting thought. Following a diametrically opposed Watsonian perspective than the last one I talked about, the protagonists of epistolary books must have the Required Secondary Power of a supernaturally good memory, able to remember thousands of words of conversations exchanged between them and other people at any given time.

(Final note: it would make sense that this kind of memory does exist in real life, but my quick search on Wkpdia was inconclusive, so I couldn't tell you whether or not it really exists. What I will say, though, is that, sometimes, people and animals do have what would be considered superpowers, if their lives were works of fiction. Take the adrenaline-induced strength that has allowed people to lift cars off loved ones trapped beneath them, for example. Not to mention science—I could totally see science someday allowing us to create mechanical tentacles like Marvel’s Doctors Octopus have got. And in the animal kingdom, take your pick. Bombardier beetles, for example, will emit a toxic chemical when disturbed.)

[ningningsplushie]

Bookstore Rivals

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Word count: 2171

Genre: Used bookstore, cold to clueless to cocky Joon, rivals but in a cutesy way, strangers to lovers, meet cute, reader likes to tease Joon

Summary: Walking into your favourite bookstore, you don’t anticipate to come across the new, handsome cashier. To say the least, the two of you don’t kick it off right away

Warnings: minor descriptions of blood, nothing intense

Y/N’s Wednesday schedule was planned out to a tee. Wake up, attend class, work for four hours, and visit Mr. Kim’s bookstore. As organized and strict as her Wednesdays were, the rest of the week was fairly inconsistent, which was precisely why she enjoyed the middle of the week most as it allowed her to take control for once, not to mention that going to the bookstore was like attending weekly Mass, an occurrence that excited her without fail.

Before the doors of the bus could fully open, with the energy of a thousand men, Y/N leaps through, almost getting her bag caught on the handles during the process. Y/N paused on the sidewalk, tilting her head up towards the high buildings of apartments and stores in the downtown area of Seoul, she closes her eyes and takes a deep to inhale, relishing the smell of the air right after it had rained. The walk from the bus stop to Mr. Kim’s store was only ten minutes but during the ten-minute expedition, she was skipping, flinging her arms back and forth.

In about no time, she arrives, already pushing open the glass door and grinning upon hearing the chime of bells signaling her entrance.

“Per Aspera ad Libros!” Y/N yells out, spreading both of her arms wide. She wasn’t sure why but she greeted the shop like this every time and it just felt right. Through hardships to the books. “Mr. Kiiiiiiim! It’s me, Y/N!” she calls out, peering through the endless rows of brown, nearly rotten shelves.

 “Y/N you come here every week like clockwork yet I never tire of your presence,” he greets, exiting from the back room, “how have you been, dear?”

“Oh, I’ve been great, sir. Classes are interesting, I meet new people at work, and my brain is still sucking up thousands of words,” she replies, clasping both of her hands atop her head.

The Fifty-something-year-old man chuckles, the deep-set lines of his mouth accentuating when he reveals his grin, his crow’s feet growing stronger as his eyes close in joy. “Good, good, I’m glad you’re enjoying life.”

“I try my best to, but, you know, it can get hard at times.”

“That’s true enough. Just keep your head high and the things you love near.”

“That’s what I’m planning on. Oh, I nearly forgot! The store didn’t have any strawberry smoothies so I got you a mango one. I know those are your second favourite,” she acknowledges, shrugging off her backpack, bringing out two small bottles of smoothies, one for Mr. Kim and one for herself.

“Thank you, dear. Let me just put a few more books away and we’ll get to talking.”

Not even a minute later, he returns, and the two stand by the large window next to the entrance, talking as they usually do about books, life, and Y/N’s school.

“I’m really glad I switched majors. Business was such a bore and-” Y/N stops in her tracks, eyes glued to the cash register when she spots a tall man sitting while reading a book with brown hair that was pushed back, revealing his forehead. She couldn’t quite tell if he was good-looking or not as his face was impassive, too engrossed in his book. From what she saw, he was easy on the eyes. Y/N frequented this bookstore on many occasions and she had never seen this guy before and she was worried that he was a suspicious character, attempting to steal. “Uhhhhh Mr. Kim,” Y/N says at a low frequency, making sure the stranger doesn’t hear, “I think that guy at the cash register is trying to steal.”

Mr. Kim’s eyes go wide and whips his head toward the counter. He’s about to yell out but then rests his eyes on the sitting figure and begins to laugh. “You had me worried for a second.” he croaks out, chest heaving from laughing too much. “He isn’t stealing or anything like that. Y/N, meet my nephew Kim Namjoon. He’s just moved here from Ilsan and started working with me while he attends university.”

Now it was Y/N turn to laugh, hand slapping her forehead as she leans forward, shoulders vibrating. “Oh wow, I’m really stupid.” She composes herself and straightens her back, offering a bow to the tall man. “Hi, I’m really sorry about that. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

She expected the guy to close his book and smile, introduce himself, or even offer a small nod, but definitely not, “It’s Per Aspera ad Astra, not per Aspera ad Libros.”

Mouth hanging open in shock, she finally takes a nice look at Mr. Kim’s nephew. As handsome as this guy was, he certainly wasn’t nice. He had a heart-shaped face of some sort, his cheeks being his widest features before tapering down to his chin. His eyes, best described as puffy monolids, were wide-set and made him look intelligent. If he’s trying to correct my Latin then he certainly is, she thought. Y/N tries to detect any sign of him joking but is only met with the limp rest of his plump lips.

“Namjoon!” Mr. Kim gasps in shock. “We don’t treat customers like that.”

Y/N recovers from…whatever that was and simply questions, “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yeah, I should know.”

Nodding, Y/N takes a look at the book he was reading and ignores his answer, replying with, “How disappointing. Have fun with Fitzgerald.” Y/N then turns to Mr. Kim and says, “Alright, I won’t be here too long, I’ll just see if you have anything of interest.”

Walking towards her favourite section, she hears, “What is wrong with you, Namjoon? You choose now, of all times, to be a smartass?” This was followed by a sharp thump, which Y/N assumed was from Mr. Kim’s hand meeting with Namjoon’s head.

Y/N browses a few sections for ten minutes before noticing Namjoon standing on a ladder from the other side of the shelf. Hearing him grunt, obviously struggling with something, she peers up from between the shelf and cracks of old books and sees him trying to push a book between a tight crevice. Y/N stifles a giggle at how different this guy looks, from the cold, impassive face at the counter to the one with brows furrowed and cheeks puffed up. He was…kinda cute. She keeps watching him from the other side of the shelf and he finally succeeds in nudging the book on the shelf. That, however, came at a price. When he forcefully pushed the novel between two other ones, it came in contact with one on Y/N’s side, sending it tumbling down, hitting Y/N on the forehead.

“OW!” Y/N’s eyes close in pain and her jaw clenches at the sharp and immediate pain. Namjoon, meanwhile, jumps from the top of the ladder and rushes to her side.

“Oh god, I’m so so sorry. Please, I really didn’t mean to hit your head I was just-”

Wanting to tease him, she interrupts him, whining out, “I didn’t know you hated me this much. First you criticize my Latin now you hit me with…” she bends down to pick up the fallen book and does everything in her power to not laugh at the coincidence. “Fitzgerald! You hit me with Fitzgerald! Unbelievable. I’ve been here for thirty minutes and you already have a personal vendetta against me. And here I was thinking that the two of us could be great friends.”

Namjoon tilts his head back and groans. “Great, I’ll never live up to this. I really didn’t intend to hit your head. Are you alright though?”

Y/N playfully nudges his shoulder. “Relax, I’m fine. I’m still in one piece, aren’t I?”

She wasn’t. Blood dripped down from her forehead onto her nose. “What-” Y/N crosses her eyes to inspect the drop and says, “Oh wow, I guess I’m not. You got a tissue?”

This only urged Namjoon to panic even more. “I’M SO SORRY!”

“Hey, it’s fine.”

“It hardly isn’t,” he yelps back, eyes shooting up. “My uncle’s gonna kill me.”

Faking dejection, she hangs her head down and looks up at him through her lashes. “So you’re more worried about your uncle and not me?”

“What?!” Realizing his mistake, he winces, given himself a facepalm. “Just ignore me, please. Let’s get you fixed up before he comes back,” he murmurs, gently pushing Y/N to sit on the counter.

Y/N dangles her legs off the counter, swinging them around like a restless child as Namjoon goes to the backroom, trying to find the first-aid kit as fast as he can. A few seconds later he returns to Y/N, fumbling with the latch of the kit with his large hands before Y/N snatches the white box from him and opens it.

“Don’t be so nervous, Doc, it isn’t life and death. Or…” she tracks off, suddenly grabbing her chest with one hand and holding Namjoon’s shoulder with the other. “Namjoon… I don’t feel so good. What did you do to me?”

“Stop that! Don’t worry me even more.” He sputtered, glaring at Y/N.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Just do your thing.”

Namjoon starts with cleaning up her wound with alcohol, carefully applying pressure so as not to hurt her even further. Y/N winces at the burn on her forehead, causing Namjoon to flinch. “Sorry if I hurt you,” he apologizes, offering her a sheepish grin, revealing the dimples she hadn’t seen up until now. Wow…he’s really handsome.

All the confidence that Y/N flies out the window, becoming increasingly flustered at his adorable features. “It’s alright,” she mumbled, drawing her eyes to the ground.

Namjoon resumes wiping her wound clean and Y/N decides to tease him even further. “Did my comment about Fitzgerald sting you that bad that you had to throw one of his books at me? Or was my Latin that bad?”

Namjoon groans, clearly embarrassed at his own actions. “Can we pleaaassseeee not bring this up again? I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?”

“Hmmmmm,” she considers for a while. “No. My Latin wasn’t wrong, by the way. It was 100 percent correct.”

“But the phrase is-”

“I know what the phrase is. I changed it because I’m talking to the books, not the stars. Through hardships to the books. No matter what I go through, I always find myself with a book or at your uncle’s store. It’s always been that way. You’re not the only smart one here, wiseass,” she finishes, trying to contain her grin.

Namjoon clamps his mouth shut, opens it, and closes it again, all before spitting out, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“It’s alright, Joonie.” He pauses his actions upon hearing this. “Hmmm, Joonie. That’s a cute nickname. I’ll call you that from now on.”

“Oh…alright. That’s-that’s cool.” He’s done with cleaning her forehead, now rummaging through the kit for a band-aid. “Wait. What do you have against Fitzgerald?” He questions, finally finding one of the appropriate size for the cut.

Here’s the kicker. “Absolutely nothing. I quite enjoyed Tender is the Night and The Great Gatsby. I just wanted to get a rile out of you. That’s what you get for trying to correct my Latin.” She taunts, sticking her tongue out at him.

He applies the band-aid and smirks. Now it was Namjoon’s turn to tease her.  “And look where it got you.”

“Hey! You said…wait,” she sidetracks, hopping off the counter. “Go out for coffee with me.”

“What? Where’s this coming from?” Namjoon asks, bewildered.

“You said, and I quote, ‘what more do you want from me?’ I’d like to go get coffee together.”

“You really are smooth, huh?” he muses, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I try my best. So what do you say…Joonie?”

“I’m not sure. You could be a psycho murderer for all I know.”

Y/N drops her mouth open and scoffs. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one who almost killed me. Listen, You’re new in the city, I can show you around and guess what? I’ll let you pay for the drinks. As an apology for my gorgeous new bump. How’s that sound?”

Namjoon stares at her for a few beats, basking in her features. “You’re really cute when you’re defending your case.”

“Uhhhhh, I know I am, now please, stop beating around the bush. Would you, or would you not like to buy me coffee and allow me to show you the hottest spots in Seoul?

He considers his answer and asks, “Promise not to kill me?”

“I can’t protect you from my good looks, Joonie,” Y/N quips, twirling a strand of her hair with her finger, causing Namjoon to let out a cackle.

“Alright, I’m down. Just make it worth my while, Y/N.”

“Oh, I promise.”

[professorrw]

Seven Minutes In Heaven

marvel masterlist

Pairing: shy female reader x Wanda Maximoff

Request: wanda x reader story— this is honestly just me projecting at this point lol, but i’ve never been to a party✌️😀so maybe a seven minutes in heaven vibe with the team? feel free to add smut as well

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, thigh riding, denied orgasm, drinking, partying, embarrassed reader, mentions of Nat x Steve

A/N: Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Maybe you didn’t grow up like a normal teen, or maybe you were just shy, either way you had never played the game ‘Seven Minutes In Heaven.’ You knew what it was but you’d never played it. And how strange it was that the first time you would be at a party hosted by Tony Stark. You’d think that super heroes between the ages of twenty and one thousand five hundred years old wouldn’t play that kind of game. But at that point you couldn’t put anything past your makeshift family.

Everyone other than you, Clint, Bruce, Tasha, Tony, Steve, Thor, Wanda, and Pietro had left already. You couldn’t blame them. It was four in the morning and the music was on full blast all night. Most of the guests would be going home with headaches and waking up with them too.

Most of the group was drinking. Everyone other than Steve, who couldn’t feel the side effects of alcohol. So if you really thought about Steve was going to be the only one with a sound mind. You and Wanda both had a drink or two, but not enough to be drunk, just a little tipsy. The most drunk was Thor, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest.

Natasha finished off her beer, the last resort when it came to drinking in her opinion, and set it down on the circular table you were all seated around.

“Let’s play a game,” she suggested, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“What’d you have in mind?” Thor asked.

“How about,” she smirked, looking at you and Wanda, “seven minutes in heaven?” She shot you a wink, knowing how bad you had it for Wanda. If that was her idea of a way to get you to confess, maybe she was on the right track. The liquid confidence flowing through you was more than you normally had and what other time would you have the guts to say something?

“What is that?” Thor asked. “Are we supposed to take turns killing someone and then bringing them back to life after seven minutes?”

You threw your head back and laughed, and Thor grinned too even though he didn’t know what was so funny.

“No, it’s where you take turns picking two people to go into a closet or room or whatever and set a timer for seven minutes and you can’t let them out until the time is up. And usually what they’re supposed to do is kiss and make out and such.” Natasha explained it so well that you questioned how many times she had played the game.

“Ah, I see. Well let’s get on with it!” Thor shouted.

Tony was slouched down in the seat next to him and swatted at his arm. “Keep it down would ya? I’ll play the game as long as no one’s too loud. My head is already throbbing.”

Clint chuckled, “Are you sure all that alcohol is good for your… machine there?”

Tony rolled his head over to look at Clint with a glare. “My machine is perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Would you grandpas quit it? We’re trying to play a game,” Wanda huffed.

“Yeah, yeah, just start already.” Tony tossed his hand up in the air and waved you guys on without much effort, making his wrist look like jelly.

“Okay, Tony since you have so much to say, why don’t you go first?” Natasha asked.

“I think I will.” He sat up and looked around surveying the group. He did that for a good two minutes before he finally said anything. “I choose… Natasha and Steve.”

Steve, who had been silent that whole time, looked over at Natasha, who wiggled her eyebrows and started to get up. Steve followed and you noticed how he had a little pep in his step. From what you could tell three out of the five original male Avengers had a crush on Nat. You couldn’t blame them, she was gorgeous.

You picked up your phone and started the timer for seven minutes as soon as the broom closet door shut. Wanda, who was sitting next to you, looked over and watched the time tick down.

“What do you think they’re up to?” she asked. Her small smirk and half lidded eyes were enough to make you catch your breath. She wasn’t trying to look seductive but she sure did to you.

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “What do you think Pietro?” To alleviate the pressure of looking and talking to Wanda you addressed Pietro, hoping the attention would no longer be on you.

Your crush's twin leaned forward and looked at you from across Wanda. “I bet they’re kissing. I don’t think the Captain would do anything more than that for a game.” You heard Bruce make a noise from across the table but you didn’t pay him any mind. You knew he liked Nat too, but he never made a move on her, so he couldn’t get mad.

“I’m not so sure, brother. Maybe Natasha wants to do more than that. I could see something happening between those two.” Wanda furrowed her brow and squinted her eyes up at the ceiling, thinking.

There was more random talking for a few minutes until your phone began to chime, signaling that their time was up.

“Guys!” you shouted, “Times up!”

“Oh my god I’m going to bed.” Tony got up from the couch and left the room, scowling all the way there. Meanwhile the door to the broom closet had opened, and out stepped Natasha and Steve. There was no visible sign of them doing anything, but you still eyed them suspiciously. Tasha caught your eye and smiled before reclining back in her seat.

“So I guess I’ll choose next. I want Y/N and,” she eyed each of the players left before settling on the person next to you. “Wanda.”

On the inside you were beaming and your heart was fluttering. On the outside you were nervous. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the sudden feat. Wanda wasted no time and shot up from her seat. With enlarged eyes you stared up at the red head, who was wearing a smirk on her face.

"Come on beautiful, it's our turn." She beckoned you to follow her and you did, trailing behind her with wolf whistles in your wake. Once you two were gone Natasha and Pietro shared a smile. They both knew your feelings, and talked about their plan to get you two together. Pietro was able to get his sister to admit that she had feelings for you earlier that night, and the operation was a go from there.

Wanda's sultry smile wasn't disappearing. She was beyond happy that you were paired together. She shut and locked the door behind you, and pressed you against it. Your breath hitched and your whole body was tingling and on edge. Wanda's skilled hands held onto your waist and her breath was on your neck.

In her seductive Sokovian accent she said, “I’ve been wanting to do this for months.” Her lips pressed against the soft and sensitive skin on the center column on your neck, sucking and nibbling on it. You had been holding a breath the whole time, but when her skin touched yours your mouth fell open and a moan escaped involuntarily. Wanda grabbed hold of your hair and pulled back, giving her more access to mark you.

Your hands were shaky, and she could tell how nervous you were. She pulled back and slipped her hands into yours. “If you don’t want to do this I can understand,” she said while she looked into your eyes. All forms of seduction were gone, she was genuinely concerned about you.

You shook your head so fast it felt like your brain was spinning. “No, no. I do want this. I’m just nervous. I really like you and I don’t want to mess up.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t know what I’m doing either, I’m just going with the flow… and doing what feels right.” She put one of her hands on your cheek, the metal of one of her rings stinging against the warmth of your face.

“We can take this as slow as you like,” Wanda whispered.

You bit your bottom lip and nodded, but Wanda pulled your lip out with her thumb. She looked you in the eye and hesitated for some sign for her to go on. You took the chance to lean in, capturing her lips with yours. She was an amazing kisser, though you couldn’t say much, you hadn’t kissed many people before. Her kiss was electric, sending jolts through your entire body, even places you didn’t know could be affected by a simple kiss.

Your back arched into her, pressing your crotch against hers. She moaned, tugging on your lip. Her hands went to your behind, landing on your butt and squeezing it tight. Even after her words she could sense your hesitancy.

“Go ahead, beautiful, explore me.”

You did as told, letting your hands trail up her stomach under her shirt and up to the lacy fabric of her bra. To support her weakening knees she slotted one in between your legs, hiking up the fabric of your dress and pressing her slacks against your wet underwear. You scooted further down the door, making the fabric rub even more. Without thinking you started to slide back and forth on her thigh. Wanda thought it was sexy, seeing you getting on with her leg, rubbing your slick cunt against her for relief.

You realized what you were doing and panicked, eyes shooting open in alarm. She laughed quietly, the ring in her voice more beautiful than anything else you had heard before. It eased your nerves and when she told you to go on you weren’t so nervous anymore.

Wanda helped you, putting her hands on your hips to guide you and moving her thigh to meet your movement. You held onto her shoulders, head falling forward and hair fanning around your face. Wanda wanted to see your face. She thought it was beautiful. She tilted your head back up so she could look at you. You tried to hide your face, somewhat embarrassed by how much pleasure you were getting out of the experience.

“You don’t have to shy away, I think you look amazing. Even when you’re moaning,” she added with a smirk.

“Wanda,” you started, trying to tell her that it wasn’t true.

“Shh, you don’t have to say anything. Just ride me until you cum darling.”

You did. You kept on riding her, at some point pulling your panties to the side so your bare pussy was against her. You were moaning for sure, but you tried to stay quiet, knowing that everyone outside would hear if you were too loud. Your peak was near, not too much to go until you would have your orgasm right there on Wanda’s pants.

“Okay love birds! Time’s up!” Natasha yelled from the other side of the door. You gasped, the feeling of Wanda’s thigh leaving you. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to appease yourself but it was to no use.

“We’ll continue this later,” Wanda whispered. She could tell you were struggling but everyone would know what you were up to if you stayed any longer, they may even open the door themselves. You pulled your dress back down and got yourself situated and Wanda checked over you, making sure that you looked presentable.

She opened the door and everyone was staring. Heat, unbearable, searing heat, rose to your face, undoubtedly turning it scarlet. You scurried to your seat and tried to drown in the couch. Wanda excused herself, walking to the bathroom with your eyes trailing after her. You weren’t sure what she was going to do, but she was actually going to clean your juices off her pants. As much as she would have loved to represent you, she knew how embarrassed you would be if everyone saw the glistening on the black fabric.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

[13uswntimagines]

She Might be a Forward, but You’re a Keeper (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: Emily x reader where r doesn’t have the best reputation and is sorta known for being a troublemaker but once Emily comes into the picture everything changes. Livin’ The Dream by Morgan Wallen is what made this pop into head.

Author’s Note: Firstly, Firerfly and i thank the one voter so much for voting for this fic. Secondly this almost didn’t happen because my dumbass deleted from the doc just seconds after we had finished it. Thank you to @literaryhedgehog​ for saving it. 

“You have to do it Sonnett,” Lindsey said sternly, taking a sip of her drink and ignoring Emily’s puppy eyes. She wasn’t going to feel bad about this. It was only fair, since she was the one who got them caught. 

“Yeah,” Rose added, crossing her arms. “consider it your punishment for not following through on our prank on Pino.” Meghan had been pissed, and the lecture they had gotten did not seem to fit the crime, especially since they had been stopped. All they wanted to do was start an itsy bitsy prank war. Where was the harm in that?

“Oh come on.” Emily whined, glancing back and forth between the two girls and the woman standing on the other side of the room. “She would have murdered me if I let you put blue dye in her shampoo,” Emily said, her bottom lip trembling. 

“And now Y/n might kill you so we’re even,” Lindsey shrugged, fighting a smile. Whatever way this ended, it would be entertaining for her. 

Some might think that that it was a gross overstatement, but it wasn’t. You had a reputation. A terrifying history of explosions on the pitch, and a complete lack of approachability off of it. You didn’t give a shit what anyone thought, Alex and Kelley being the only exception, but you had known them forever so it didn’t count. 

You didn’t have many friends (contrary to what the public though), but you were viciously loyal to the people you actually let get close to you. 

The youngins had been warned that you did whatever (and whoever) you wanted and they should steer clear. You wouldn’t mess with them as long as they didn’t mess with you. 

The problem was that the blond defender was smitten from the first moment she saw you this season. When she had first joined the team you had just been another veteran and the excitement of joining the national team had overshadowed everything else. But then you transferred to Washington during Club season and she started noticing you everywhere.  Partially because you were everywhere- weaving around the field and her vision, at team events and now here at camp, and… she might have been caughts staring once or twice. Maybe Emily had tripped over her own feet a few times because she accidentally got distracted by the sight of you pouring water over your head after a hot practice, who's to say. Either way,  her two meddling best friends knew about her little crush and had decided to use it as blackmail. 

“I hate you guys,”  Emily said, downing half her drink for liquid courage. 

Lindsey rolled her eyes and shoved the defenders shoulder. “No you don’t,” 

“You better get your ass over there before she starts flirting with another girl,” Rose said with a disinterested wave of her hand, motioning towards the dejected Brunette walking away from you. There was a parade of women all night, and it seemed none of them were having any luck. 

Your eyes followed the woman as she left, but your face didn’t betray any emotions, appearing completely uncaring to anyone who happened to glance in your direction. 

Emily nodded. It was now or never she supposed. 

*****

You took an uninterested sip of you beer, swirling your finger around the glass when you set it back down on the bar. You had never exactly found team bar nights fun. It felt like thousands of people would come up and talk to you (and call you by name) and expect you to instantly be their friend. 

You didn’t need anymore friends. 

You took another sip of your flat beer, making a mental note to chastise Alex later for her terrible bar choice, and stared listlessly at the football (American style) game on the tv. 

“Hey, wanna hear a joke about paper?” You turned slowly to look at the speaker. You squinted at the blond defender, tilting your head to the side, not letting your surprise that a youngin actually had the balls to talk to you off the pitch show on your face. 

She scratched the back of her head grinning impishly at you. “Never mind, it’s tearable.”

You raised your eyebrow at the woman, you lips ticking up slightly at her adorable fidgeting. 

That seemed to give her confidence, as she set her drink down and slid into the unaccompanied stool next to you. 

“Why didn’t the vampire attack Taylor Swift? She had bad blood.” 

You suppressed your snort at the terrible joke, hiding it behind a sip of your bad beer. 

“It’s more fun if you actually let me respond before you hit me with the punchline,” You smirked, thoroughly entertained by the pink starting to bloom on the defenders cheeks. 

“Oh, my bad.” Emily said, making an embarrassed face. “Sorry, I often tell dad jokes- most of the time he laughs!’

This time you did snort, the smile you were holding back finally cracking across your lips. 

“Just most of the time? Sounds to me like you need to get a better one,”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Emily said, a wicked gleam in her eye. A terrible joke competition was right up her alley.

“Not at all. I could never compete with someone with your… particular skill set. You should be a magician because you just make girls disappear,” You wiggled your fingers, mimicking a magical motion. 

“Ouch,” Emily said, holding back giggles. 

“You could let me ice that burn as consolation,” You shrugged, also holding in a giggle. 

“Nah, I just need to wait a little for it to warm back up. You know what the hottest time of day is?”

“No, what?”

“Two- flirty!”

You cackled loudly, nearly throwing your head back. 

****

“Is the Ice Queen actually smiling?” Kelley asked, sliding into the booth beside Alex, passing a disgustingly fruity drink to her girlfriend. 

“It appears so,” Alex nodded, pushing the stupid mini unbrella out of her way to take a sip. 

Her eyes followed your laughing form, taking in how your eyes lit up, and the way you leaned closer to the blond defender. It wasn’t your typically cocky posture when you talked to girls, you seemed much more unguarded. 

“Who knew Junior had it in her. I never thought she’d work up the courage,” Kelley smirked over the edge of her drink. Emily’s crush on you wasn’t a secret (to the two of them at least), but they never dreamed Emily would actually make a move. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Y/n look at anyone like that.” Alex started thoughtfully. “Well maybe-”

“We don’t speak her name Alex,” Kelley interrupted with a glare. They didn’t talk about your previous relationship. It had nearly ruined you completely. 

Rose and Lindsey joined Alex and Kelley where they were standing, all four trying to hide the fact that they were staring at you and Emily together. 

“You enjoying the show too?” Rose said, shaking her head slightly as she watched. What the heck could you two be talking about? For a few seconds she saw you talk animatedly then - in unison with Emily - double over in laughter. 

“You know something about this that we don’t?” Alex asked, glancing at the two younger players. 

Rose and Lindsey exchanged a look. “Sonnett’s only over there because we made her,” Lindey said. 

“How?”

“Told her we’d rat her out to Vlatko for the snack incident last camp,” Rose shrugged. Revenge was best served with blackmail. 

“I didn’t know she had a soft side,” Lindsey said after a few minutes. 

“Only a few people actually get to see it,” Kelley shrugged. You were guarded but not heartless. It just took a special touch to break that cast iron shell. 

****

“Okay, okay. So I know a guy who's great at soccer but is super untidy.”

“You do?” You asked, biting your lip. You weren’t sure why you were suddenly nervous. 

“Yeah, he’s just a Messi guy!” Emily said, already laughing on the last word. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I think these are just getting worse,” 

“Oh come on, you were the one who told the one about a frog liking hoppy beer,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “I think that one was objectively worse.”

“Whatever you say cutie pie,” you said, leaning forward on your hand. You weren’t usually this interested in conversation. You were more of an… in and out kinda girl. But there was something about Emily that intrigued you. That pulled you in and made you want to know more about her than just her bedroom preferences. 

“Pie sounds so good right now,” Emily said sighing deeply. “I don’t even have a joke to go with that, I just like pie. Although I think I read one at some point for Pi day, I could google it…” 

“I don’t know any jokes either, but I do know a place pretty close to here if you wanted to ditch these losers,” You offered, picking idly at your napkin. 

“Losers? I didn’t know the men’s team was here!” Emily smirked. You didn’t know if she was blowing you off, or just completely missed what you were implying. 

“See that one was actually a good one. Those idiots wouldn’t know how to score if they were shooting at the broadside of a barn,” You shook your head. Half of the women’s team midfield had better finishing stats than all the men’s forwards. They were terrible. 

“Oh come on. They’re not that bad. At least 9% of them are keepers,” Emily laughed. “Well that’s their position anyway. But yes, I would love to go get some pie with you. Just don’t tell Dawn I broke my diet.” 

“No promises Princess,” You said standing, and holding out your hand to the woman. You kissed the back of her hand when she laced her fingers with yours, earning yourself another giggle. 

It made your heart flutter, and you just wanted more. 

“You sure you’re okay missing the end of the party?” Emily said hopefully, scanning as if to make sure no one would waylay you on your way out the door. The last thing she wanted was to get stopped by one of your parade of brunettes. 

“Better than okay. The word happiness might start with an H, but mine starts with U.” 

[hwrryscherry]

 The one where the reader meets Harry as Jack

characters: HARRYxREADER!FEM

blurb: Harry is filming Don't Worry Darling in Palms Springs while Y/N is moving in in her new house in the neighbourhood where the movie is being filmed. Turns out the fate wanted to cross Harry and Y/N's way as a box full of books is very intriguing to Harry and Pride and Prejudice becomes Harry's new favorite.

word count: 2.7K

author's note: Heyy guys, it has been SO LONG and honestly I don’t think this is best work yet lol but anyway, I had the worst writer’s block of my life so it was so hard for me to write a single word. Honestly, I felt kinda pressured to write. I felt like I was pressuring myself for that so I had to take advantage of this block and take this idea out of my mind. I want to say something important too; I really want to say that the only story of mine that I’ll keep the face claim is HARRYxMODELY/N, just because I like to use the photos to make instagram posts sometimes. I will no longer describe types of hair as I used to say ‘’long strands of hair’’, it will be neutral for you to imagine yourself in the story. It’s all about you guys and how you can visualize the story and the character, if you want to imagine a face claim that’s cool but if you don’t want to it’s cool too. Feel free to read and visualize, it’s all about you. Thank you for the support on my account and my writing. I’m aware that I’m not the best lol, but I also think that I have so much to learn from you just as I have to teach. I’m so grateful for everyone who reads and like my stuff. Never forget that you’re unique, you’re loved, you’re so golden and treat people with kindness always.

   "Why is it so hot in here? It's fucking December!", you'd think to yourself as you drove your new car through the streets of Palm Springs. The thing is that after you moved from Columbia to reside so many years in New York while you were studying English Language and Literature in Yale, you just got so used with the usual colder weather from NY and it's just a different vibe from California. You had such a hard time to decide what you wanted to do after graduating, though. And after a few weeks and some long conversations with your family, you decided you would go to California. Palm Springs, to be more specific. You decided that because you remembered all the times you went there when you were a kid because your grandmother lived in there before she passed. You remember spending your summer vacation with her and how cool it was. It was in the early 2000′s and there was many kids on your age that lived on her street. You remember playing with them all day and then getting back into your grandma’s house and feeling that cinnamon scent that for some one only her house had. It wasn’t a usual cinnamon scent. It had something special in it. It made you feel so warm and welcomed. You remember helping her to bake the most delicious cookies, brownies and cakes in her kitchen. You remember the kitchen had a yellow counter, but the entire kitchen was white. All very pale and then the cheerful yellow in the kitchen that colored everything. You remember going to play bingo with her and how it made her happy to having you around. You both were so close and you had such a hard time when she passed, but the most important was she taught you so many things during your time together, and you’d never forget those things and her.

    As you drove, you’d remember those streets vaguely. You’d pass through the soccer court you typically used to go with the other kids and spent hours playing in there. You were vibing with the song in the stereo as you started getting closer to your new house’s street. It was Carolina by Harry Styles; you have to admit you’re not the biggest Harry Styles fan in the world, but you were definitely a One Direction fan when you were around 16, but you couldn't be considered a directioner either. You just listened to a few songs and thought it was good. But anyway, this specific song is one that you particularly like. It may have something to do with the fact that you’re from Carolina, of course. But it’s more about the vibe and the melody that by being animated it could actually cheer anyone up and the lyrics were undeniably good though, a little sexual, but good. It’s more about the vibe and the melody that by being animated it could actually cheer anyone up and the lyrics were really good though, a little sexual, but good.

    When you turned the right way into the street of your new home, you came across much more than you expected to see on your moving day. There were, as it seemed, paparazzi. Apparently they were shooting a movie right in your street, and it had also many people with many cameras and trailers that probably were dressing rooms. Naturally, you knew that thousands of films were shot in California, that’s obvious. But you didn't expect one to be shooting exactly on your moving day and specifically in your street, let alone that the street would be this crowded since the world is experiencing a global pandemic, ironic. You observed some of the people walking down the street, or should you call it a set? You don't know, but there were many people and many cars, at least they were all wearing masks. It had many classic cars, probably in the 40s or 50s style. They were colorful; vivid colors, though. Colors like yellow, blue and lilac was really present. To resume, the whole street looked like a movie from the 50s and for sure that was the intention because you could notice some extras walking around the set dressed up as 50s people used to.

    As you carefully drive through the street, you’d notice that from what seemed like a divine miracle, there was a vacant parking spot right in front of your house and you can’t help but smile when you see it. The first time you came here to see the house. You were with your family, and that was about four months ago. You just loved the house completely as it had such a different vibe from the place you used to live in New York, and honestly, just the thought of the house made your creativity activate as it had some really cool colored walls and you bought some colored mobile as well. Anyway, you stopped the car right in front of your house finishing the engine and grabbing your mask and putting it in your face as you'd use your hand to get rid of the seat belt and your other hand to open the car door and get out of the car.

    After closing the driver's seat door, you go around the car walking to the trunk where you use the car key to open it. When you open it, you are faced with two cardboard boxes. One was full of books. Books of all kinds, books of period novels, books of suspense, books of investigation and etc. Books that piqued your curiosity and made you want to finish reading it as quickly as possible. The other box was already full of clothes, those last clothes that you would finally be taking home. Your mother has done the biggest job in the moving issue; she was the one who was bringing the furniture and your things while you finished packing the rest of your things to leave New York. You try your hardest not to pay attention to the set of recordings and the people who walked back and forth, at the same time that you tried hard not to make any noise, because if you accidentally disturbed a scene, you would feel extremely embarrassed and would probably not even show up at the gate until the end of filming, but that was not the case. You removed the two boxes from the trunk just before closing it completely. You chose, perhaps, to enter the clothes box first. You bent down taking the box in your arms and walked to the door of the house where you used the key you received from the real-estate agent to unlock it before entering. You immediately noticed that some sunbeams reflected on the living room floor due to the white linen curtain that covered the glass windows. You observed the contrast of the sofa in such a light tone with the lilac wall just behind it. You walked with the box in hand by the door extension to the room where you placed the box on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. Returning out of the house, you can see the figure of a tall man dressed in a brown suit crouched in front of the box of your books. He had brown hair and properly cut. It didn't look like he was messing with your books, but he was definitely looking at them and it seemed like he was trying to read the covers of it for some reason. You slowly got closer to the man's body without making too much noise while you analyzed him, you crossed your arms upon your chest as you noticed the book cover he was looking at: Love is a mixtape by Rob Sheffield.

— This one is amazing! — You said, surprising the man that stand up fastly with the book in his hands connecting his green gaze with yours. He was tall, really tall by the way. His suit seemed perfect, just as his hair. He had a black mask on as a protection but the 16 year old teenager inside of you could never mistake those eyes. It was Harry fricking Styles. You considerated being quiet as you, yourself were pretty surprised now, but then you took your gaze to the book in his hand and then back at his face — It's like comparing love to a popular song that we usually search to define love. Just to find out that love is like oxygen, or love is a kind of drug, or a battlefield for some... — You said referring to the book with a tender smile on your face that Harry couldn't essentially see, but talking about a book that you loved caused this on you. And as you talked you didn't notice that Harry had a smile on his face as well. Maybe it was because you completely ignored the fact that he is Harry Styles and he was messing up your books as he's on the set filming a movie, or maybe it was the fact that he loved this book just as much as you did. He'd use to say this is probably one of the books that if he had to read just one book to the rest of his life, he'd chose this one and he usually had so much to talk about this book and so much to put on an argument about it but now he was completely speechless. He was just tongue tied. He was tongue tied about your reflection of one of his favorite books and how it looked so identical to his own personal reflection. He was tongue tied for the number of great books that he always wanted to read that was on that box. He was tongue tied at the owner of those books and her beauty, her intelligence of her voice and her voice as well so he just chuckled. A nervous chuckle as he leaned his head to look at the floor for a second before looking at you and holding out the book in his hands to you that calmly took it from his hands.

— I know! It's one of my favorite books! — Harry'd ultimately manage to say it as he observed you admiring the cover and running your fingers through it as a truly book lover would do — It's very interesting the interpretation you have of it.

— Don't you agree? — You'd interrupt him rising your head to examine at his face. He seemed paralyzed by some way, little did you know that Harry was mesmerized. He enjoyed the informal way you were speaking with him, and it genuinely felt like you already knew it each for years.

— That's the intriguing part. We have the same interpretation! — He'd say serenely, and then running his hand through his hair as he frown a little because of the sun that just hit on his glowing eyes.

— Well...Maybe you're just trying to imitate me to impress me! — You'd joke, with a mocking expression on your face making Harry giggle at your words and your face. It was the sense of humor to him.

— Oh really? And what makes you think I'm trying to impress you? — Harry'd say back with the same mocking tone that you formerly used. He'd observe your face go from playful to thoughtful in just as you to come up with a response.

— I mean...you were the one looking through my stuff, mister! — You say raising your eyebrows as you utilized one of your hands to take some strands of hair out of your face.

— Right... — Harry said with a defeated voice before as he compressed his lips together and moved his suit away from his shirt a little as he places his hands on his waist — I'm sorry about it, though. There was this box hanging here and I guess I was just intrigued! — He said shyly making you start walking towards the box walking closely to him causing him to feel a hot warm from your body as you passed. You'd bend over to grab the box but was stopped by Harry taking the heavy box from your hands — Let me help you with this! — Harry said as he held the box on his arms.

— There's no need for that. It'll ruin your splendid suit! — You'd say gently to him as he was standing up in front of you carefully holding the loaded box. Legitimately, he looked hot. He properly looked like a 50s husband helping with the moving with this outfit — And if you piss off your costume designer because of me I'll die! — You'd complement receiving a loud laugh from Harry's lips that shook his head while looking at you.

— She’ll be fine! — Harry'd argue back, then get a sigh from you before nodding at him as a statement.

— My house is right there! — You'd say using your right hand to point at your house, watching Harry turn his back to you and start walking towards it. You followed him through the door that was already open. Harry looked at the house immediately. It had a good vibe, and he wouldn't deny it. The choice of colors was exceptional, but he also noticed it was not very tidy, which would probably indicate that you were moving today.

— Where do I leave it? — Harry asked, referring to the box as he went farther into the living room.

— You can just leave it on the floor — You serenely said crossing your arms together and watching as he left the box on the floor and turned around to face you, but then deflecting his gaze to the ceiling before staring at your face again.

— It's a beautiful house! — Harry said as he moved his gaze through the room. He observed everything. He likes to observe. He likes to notice things that maybe other people didn't — Just like the owner, if I might say — Harry said cheekily and charming hearing your giggle invade his ears as you started walking towards the box of books that he previously set on the floor.

— The owner says thank you — You said bending down and starting to take the books out of the box and place it on the coffee table beside you as Harry watched your movements. You shyly looked at him thinking for a second and them smiling under your mask — For both compliments! — You said getting your attention back to the books. It's not that you don't want to give him your attention. It's that you genuinely think that he's just being nice, and he's probably not even interested in anything that you say.

— So... I have to go back to the film now but maybe you can give me your number so we can talk about your interpretation of my favorite book — Harry said shyly. His words took you by surprise actually but you couldn't hold back the smirk you had under your mask as you stand up again turning to face his green eyes. You noticed that he had his phone on his hand, hoping and waiting that you'd give him your number even though both of you knew that the book excuse was nothing more than an excuse as he was truly interested in knowing you.

— Well, it depends... — you said slowly as you took a deep breath before actually saying anything — If you agree to read my favorite books too, I'll give you my number!

— I'd be honored! — Harry chuckled after letting a sigh out feeling relief that you asked for something so simple that he'd love to do if that would make you happy — What's your name? — Harry said as he unblocked his phone screen and started to save your phone number.

— Save it as Elizabeth Bennet in there! — You said fastly with a proud smile on your face as Harry giggled and did as you ask and then looked at your face as he put his phone back on his pocket.

— Only if you save my name as Mr. Darcy when I call you! — Harry said knowing that after this, Pride and Prejudice would definitely become one of his favorite books ever.